Sunday Shopping

Wow, I really wish I hadn't forgotten cat food on Thursday when I went shopping. Alas, I did. Usually I am one of those people who will only go to the commissary on the weekend- especially payday weekend- under penalty of slow torturous death... and even then, I might consider the death for a few moments before I go.
They were out of most everything- and the place was a bit of a mad house. I got what I needed and split. It is a blessing that today is one of those glorious days that makes me like Germany.... About 70 degrees, partly cloudy and windy. The breeze blowing the big puffy clouds by, and making the leaves in the forest trees seem to shimmer.
Now I am off to start the grill and stick a can up a chicken's ass for dinner.

Would be nice if I had my microwave to make dinner with- so I didn't have to dirty a pan to make a can of corn. My last microwave decided last week that making big blue arcs inside the oven was a good idea-and trying to catch everything on fire was the thing to do. It has been summarily quarantined, and shall be replaced in the coming days. I wish I could drop the fucker off the balcony, and take great glee in it's explosive impact with the ground 45 feet below, but in order to get it replaced, we have to turn it back in to the folks who provided it in the first place.
More's the pity.

All Done

Yesterday was my last session of Physical Therapy. I couldn't be more pleased. Although I liked the lady I was working with- very funny and very nice- I am glad to not have to go stand on the ankle torture board of pain.
I am depressed today. I shan't elaborate much beyond that, as I know my depressive writings are... depressing.
To combat my blues, I shall go outside and play! Yes, Freud frolics, on occasion. Hard to believe, but it does in fact happen.
A joke for my readers...

Preparing for parenthood

1. Women: to prepare for maternity, put on a dressing gown and stick a beanbag down the front. Leave it there for 9 months. After nine months, take out 10% of the beans.
Men: to prepare for paternity, go to the local chemist, tip the contents of your wallet on to the counter and tell the assistant to help herself. Then go to the supermarket and arrange to have your salary paid directly to its head office.

2. To find out how the nights will feel, walk round the sitting room from 5pm to 10pm carrying a wet bag weighing 8-12lbs. At 10pm put the bag down, set the alarm for midnight and go to bed. Get up at 12am and walk round the sitting room with the bag till 1am. Set the alarm for 3am. As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2am and make a drink. Go to bed at 2.45. Get up when the alarm goes off at 3am. Sing songs in the dark until 4am. Set the alarm for 5am. Get up. Make breakfast. Keep this up for 5 years. Look cheerful.

3. Hollow out a melon and make a small hole in the side roughly the size of a golf ball. With a piece of string, suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side. Now get a bowl of soggy Weetabix and attempt to spoon it into the swaying melon by pretending to be an aeroplane. Continue until half the Weetabix is gone. Tip the rest into your lap. You are now ready to feed a 12month old baby. To prepare for toddlers, smear Marmite on the sofa and jam on all the curtains. Hide a fishfinger behind the stereo and leave for a couple of months.

4. Dressing small children isn't as easy as it seems. First buy an octopus and a string bag. Attempt to put the octopus in the bag so that none of the arms hang out. Time allowed for this: all morning.

----->(How true)5. Forget the sports car and buy a Volvo. And don't think you can leave it out on the drive, spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that. Buy a chocolate ice-cream and put it in the glove compartment. Leave it there. Jam a 50p piece into the cassette player. Mash a family- sized pack of chocolate biscuits down the back seats. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car. There, perfect.

6. Get ready to go out. Wait outside the lavatory for half an hour. Go out of the front door. Come in again. Go out. Come back in. Go out again and walk down the front path. Walk back up. Walk down again. Walk very slowly along the road for 5 minutes. Stop to inspect minutely every cigarette end, piece of chewing gum, dirty tissue and dead insect along the way. Retrace your steps. Scream that you've had about as much as you can stand until the neighbours come out and stare at you. You are now ready to try taking a small child for a walk.

7. Go to the supermarket, taking with you the nearest thing you can find to a pre-school child - a fully grown goat is ideal. If you intend to have more than one child, take more than one goat. Do your weeks shopping without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goats eat or destroy.

8. Learn the names of every character from Teletubbies or Power Rangers. When you find yourself singing 'Postman Pat' in the bath, you qualify as a parent.

9. Always repeat everything you say at least 5 times.

10. Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who are already parents and berate them about their methods of discipline, lack of patience and how they allow their children to run riot. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's sleeping habits, potty- training, table manners and overall behaviour. Enjoy it - it'll be the last time in your life you have all the answers.

Also:

Concussion?

Rachel Baby fell off the Bed.
Rachel Baby bumped her head.
The Poor Little girl,
She started to hurl
"Let's go to the ER" Momma said.

Long story short, I was out of the house until 3 am, at LRMC. About 10 p.m., Rachel took a tumble off the top bunk.... no knot on her head though, which is never a good sign- swelling out good, swelling in bad. At midnight she came out puking.... and I was off to the hospital.
Given her vomiting spell the day before, and the fact that she was sentient and just wanted to go home, I was told to keep an eye on her and take her to Peds if anything got worse or persisted. This was after almost 2 hours of waiting.
She should be fine. I may not recover for the lack of sleep.
Rachel is eating this morning, and says her tummy feels fine. So we'll keep our fingers crossed.

Dreams...

Had the strangest dream...
My house- well, it looked like my house, 4th floor and everything, but it was my Aunt Barbara's House. See, I was house sitting for her. In July. And the phone rang, and it was my husband saying they were going to be staying at work extra hours, and for some reason that caused some kind of mental panic and crisis for me. When I hung up the phone and walked out into the living room, all the doors and window were open and it was snowing. In July. Snowing heavily, and windy. The wind was covering the inside of the house with snow- and there were goats. 3 goats walking around the house.I shooed them out on to the patio and started sweeping the snow out the front door... and felt like I had to get it all swept up before my Aunt got back.
I was worried about the animals outside- and when I looked out the window I saw desert plants covered a foot deep in snow- and found myself realizing that my husband- at work- had no idea it was snowing in July.... I kept sweeping the snow out- even though it was terribly windy.
I shut the front door, and turned around- and went to a computer- Above the computer set up was the prettiest hanging light I had ever seen. Gorgeous rainbow colored cut glass, and the light was swinging on it's hanging cord. There was a webcam watching me, it was trying to get my attention away from the pretty colored light. I knew it was because it was putting up a picture of me watching the light on the screen- I realized- hey- THAT'S ME!
So I pushed the button and saw my husband, doing those late hours at work. He wasn't talking to me- I was watching him work on some computer related problem at his desk, with his work mates, including Scott standing over his shoulder. When I turned around my uncle was standing there, and he told me we would have to go get Barb.
Then I was in an RV.... with chocolate brown carpet, and all the drapes were closed- they were the ugliest curtains I have ever seen in my life. It was really stuffy feeling in the motor-home.
My Uncle Buddy was making a "try-out" video for some kind of contest- to be a guest conductor of an orchestra. Mom mom was making... no cleaning up.... a dinner. On the plate she took from her own setting was ap ile of asparagus- which she commented she hated. At which time I proceeded to argue with her that she, in fact, did not hate asparagus, because I got her to like it. So she ate it.... in the RV.... while cleaning up dinner plates.... that were already clean.
Then I started thinking about changing the sheets before we found my Aunt- as I was worried the goats and snow had messed up the bed.
My Uncle at this point was WAY into conducting his invisible orchestra to the tune of Bolero which was playing on the speakers. His hair was flopping like Leopold.... and the last note, he did with great artistic precision and emphasis.
I was snacking on cold asparagus, saying to myself, "Damn this asparagus is cold"...
And then I woke up.

UPDATE:

Kevin just called. He is gonna be late tonight.
I better close all the doors to keep the goats out.

3.. 2.. 1..

My kids just watched their first shuttle launch.
How cool to see the look of excitement and wonder on their faces. How odd that I still hold my breath when they go for Throttle Up. I was in sixth grade when this

Became this...

Not only in sixth grade, but in Catholic School.... we got called to a mid-week mid day mass. We were kids and couldn't really appreciate what it all meant- but we knew it was bad.
Today's launch was beautiful... the kids cheered. I did too, a little.

Forums Are Up!

My hubby bought me a new domain name.
I have decided I am hell bent on telling AAFES they are...to put it mildly... LACKING. Since the letters I have written have fallen on deaf ears, and have have gotten nothing back but responses of placation, I have made an entire website dedicated to how bad AAFES sucks!
Come by and visit click here or use the link on the right. You can also go straight to the Forums.
Please register and post! Post! Post!
Let's get an earful for the bastards, and maybe we can get something changed... (As if!)

Puking Child

n. Vomit
v. vom·it·ed, vom·it·ing, vom·its
v. intr.
To eject part or all of the contents of the stomach through the mouth, usually in a series of involuntary spasmic movements.... barf, be seasick, be sick, belch, bring up, disgorge, dry heave, emit, expel, gag, heave, hurl, keck, lose it, puke, regurgitate, retch, ruminate, spew, spit up, throw up, upchuck...

To hoist chow, to yuke, to lose one's lunch, to blow chunks, to whistle beef, to toss one's cookies, to ralph, to boot, to worship at the alter of Brother John, to go Linda Blair, to barf up a lung, to bend and send, to drive the porcelain bus, to hork, to launch lunch, the big spit, to undo dinner...

All joking aside, it is a horribly heart wrenching sound to hear a small child dry heaving. Upon going into the bathroom, to hold Rachel's hair out of her face, and reassuringly rub her back, another heave hits, and it literally brings her up OFF her feet, wherein she almost falls face first into the toilet. Then she looks up at me with that sweet little face, and an expression that says "I am trying to be a brave little trooper"; it makes me feel all the more powerless to help her, and she turns her face back to the bowl for another round of "Try to pass your toes through your mouth".
She is resting now, thankfully... and is even asking what's for lunch.
Don't think so, sweet pea. Not until you can keep down water.

Oh no!

Not even 9 AM yet, and strangely I already have this creeping feeling that today is gonna be rough.

~Rachel is throwing up. Against my admonitions, she ate a pice of chocolate, and just finished booting that- and of course, as all little girls with long hair do, she got it in her hair- and on the floor, the toilet seat, etc.

~I am going blind on CSS code for a new site. AAFES Sucks, as I am trying to set up a new forum site for those out there who like I have a seething dislike for AAFES and the lack of products and services... of course I was ousted early by the husband who told me "I think I broke your site". Calming. He, in fact, did not break it- he just.... fudged with it a bit. All better now.

~The house looks like it does every Monday- like a cluster-fuck bomb went off in it- after the weekend of 4 people being here all weekend, and only me picking anything up.

If I thought it would help, I would go back to bed and see if getting up all over again would make it different somehow.

AAFES still SUCKS!

I am entirely too pissed off right now to type rationally.
I am so proud to be the #1 complaint on google when it comes to AAFES. They SO deserve my wrath and disgust.
We got a hair across our ass to circumvent TKS and their security IP blocking today, and were going to go buy another xbox... (long story, suffice to say TKS sucks too!). We can not see our buddy who lives a few buildings down from us with system link play, so we were gonna go to playing on live- for this we need another xbox.
AAFES has no Xboxes. None. No more coming, either. Despite their exceptional sales of said consoles, the big wig asshole, whomever he is, has decided no more xbox until the 360 is released. Not because of low sales, or lack of consumer interest- but just because... he said so, I guess.

Sorry Timmy, if you wanted a new console for your October birthday, you'll have to pray Santa brings you one in December... Cause AAFES will not be selling anymore Microsucks Xboxes until Christmas.
This whole AAFES thing is really beginning to PISS ME OFF!!!

Be still, my vassal

My dear sweet child, my darling baby girl... How I am floored by thee.
Just a few moments ago, as I stood over a heaping basket of clothes, most of them belonging to the children, folding and hanging at a fevered pace, my darling daughter came into my room. I gave her a plastic bag and asked her to pick up the trash that she and her brother had littered the floor with, mostly drawing papers and bits of candy wrappers.
She bounced up and gleefully grabbed the bag, in an obvious gesture of gratitude for me seeing to her every need, every single day of her little life. NOT. Nay, she dropped to her knees, bag in her hand, and started crying. Not just any crying mind you, she had to articulate. "I don't want to do this."
To Which I explained "Well, I don't want to do laundry, either, but we have to get it done." This is where I pat myself on the back in my mind, for coming up with a perfectly logical response to her protest. Much to my surprise, my logic fell upon deaf ears, maybe due to the fact that she was crocodile crying to drown me out.
Then she said it... "I can't believe you are using me as your slave!"
Hold for the dramatic pause, as I checked with my ears and, yes, in fact, she DID just say that.
Are you kidding me?! Slave? SLAVE?! USING?!

Holy shit, hold up! My brain was a whir of reactions- like a computer looking for a solution to a problem amongst a million possibilities- going down the list. I dropped the shirt I was hanging back into the basket, and whipped around to face her. Did she take note of my bewilderment? Of course not. She was still whimpering out what was now a long string of nonsensical blubber. All of which, I am sure, was somehow characterizing me as a modern day Simon LeGree. I was still stupefied and had little response to the comment of her serfdom.
Without much comment, I took the bag from her, and told her to go take a nap, and that she hurt my feelings by saying that. Her wailing only became louder as she screamed down the hallway "You don't love meeeeee...." and then the door closing behind her.
There have been many days that my kid's comments or actions have caught me completely off guard, either with the outrageousness or cuteness of it all. Nothing like this.
Since the event, she has come to me and apologized for "Taying that, and hourting yo feelins".
What is it... that saying about the mouths of babes?
What am I to do with those kids?

Home Care

On August 3rd, I will be embarking upon an insane mission. As my youngest is starting school this fall, it is time, I think, for me to rejoin those amongst society who get paid for what they do. Through careful research, I have found the most lucrative of jobs in the KMC is to be had providing home child care for others. They have classes and seminars about how to become certified, trained, CPR and first aid qualified, and even how to draw up a contract for the parents to sign in blood, as they hand their kids over to me.
Since I am, of late, ass deep in a refit of the children's quarters, this may be as good a time as any to revisit this childcare option. How hard can it be? I get to stay here and play all day; that is between trips to and from the school to drop off and pick up. The "before and after" providers are even paid extremely well for what amounts to all of 2.5-3 hours of care.
During my brainstorming, and thinking back on the care I lined up for my failed commissary job, and the contract I signed, I will expand my services beyond 6:45 a.m.- 5 p.m., and even be available for "goal days"... for a price.
I have also decided... no babies. In fact, nothing that is not potty trained or self feeding. Children that age are the ones that are prone to trying to drink windex and eat paper towels if they are walking- or throwing mess like a slingshot from a highchair or bouncy seat if they are crawling. Thanks no, mama of 4. Not my gig.
Crafts, planned activities, park schedules... this is the way to do it. That plus the ULTRA-cool play room I am day by day designing to be the ultimate kid hang out. So far we have the TV, which gets only AFN family and the cartoon network, the eMac which runs only iTunes (loaded with all kid music), and Bumpercar, tons of toys, and a bright airy theme. Add to that the soon to arrive N64 loaded with kid friendly platform games, and you have a veritable kid oasis. How hard can it be?
In the old days, my mom ran a day care center for a shit load of kids, upwards of a dozen or so, and she liked it. Now, I know there will, of course, be days when a roll of duct tape and a dark closet will seem the best solution on hand- but that is what the Almighty made parks for, and lucky me, we have one right down the hill.
Ooooh, I just had another idea- I can make a new web page to advertise THE coolest daycare in the KMC.
That will be right after I wade through the red tape of the Childhood development people; background checks, house checks, child lock installation, CPR certification, and training. I should be about ready come start of school. This may well all fall right into place.

Settle Down

Apparently my previous entry re: my meltdown has caused some concern amongst my readers.
Worry not. I am FINE. Some times I lose it. It's just part of being me. It is a blessing that I have great friends and family to support me, and still be there when I get ahold of my brain, and beat it back into submission.
I freak out from time to time; a peril of living with bi-polar disorder, and a long forgotten history of some really fucked up shit that I am, to this day, dealing with. Revelation time? I am an adult survivor of childhood molestation by a family friend, I was date raped at 19 by a man who is now a successful eye doctor in Tempe, and my best friend hung himself in a bitch's garage with his own belt last year. I have some baggage. I am coping.

I promise I am okay. Stop panicking, y'all.

Meet the World....

We are planning a big.
This is my dad... Dad... this is the virtual world.
If everything goes according to plan, he will be here in Germany in late October, which means Halloween... Freud's favorite holiday. I am sure it will be a blast. Making plans to go see more of the countryside than we were able to last time he was here. The kids are older now, and are able to do and appreciate more. But, AH! Halloween!
I have yet, in all my sewing years, made him the costume I have always wanted to, and one he has always wanted. Something Ren legal and faire appropriate.
Since I will most likely have neither time nor desire to make another renaissance dress for myself, I will make his costume to match my green gown and he will go as.... ready for it...? Henry XIII.... (Or any other tudor man, for that matter.)
Can't wait!

In other news, a fun website to play with. Beer Game

Meltdown

Freaked out.... Totally lost it last night. My big bad bipolar nemesis reared it's ugly head and spun me for a loop. Then I walked home, came in the house and had a two hour breakdown... Took me that long to stop the hyperventilating and sobbing and shaking.
Sucked.
Before I lost my mind- whilst we were sitting and chatting, and laughing... this beautiful white cat came up to the rail of the porch. Friendly and sweet as could be... She was a stray, looked like she may have been abandoned recently, and we were gonna bring her home. Of course, she had other ideas, and I got mauled a bit.
The rest of the night was fabulous. Great food and great friends... Then I freaked out.
How does one explain to people without much experience of unstable personality type things that I freaked out for no good reason, because I am in some aspects a certified nut-job, and I am sorry...?

Savings

Tonight I got to do something I haven't done since we left Las Vegas. I got to get dressed and go shopping after 8 p.m.. In fact, I went at 10:30. Glorious.

Not the local class six either- I went to the BX. Since tonight is the release of the new Harry Potter book, the BX was open until 2 in the morning. (I feel bad for the employees.) During the build up to the book release, the store ran a "Manager's Special" sale. This means that anything already on clearance is an additional 50% off.
You can tell an AAFES regular sale vs. an AAFES clearance sale one way, and one way only- if it's marked off by a percentage- it is clearance.
Spending just less then 100 dollars, I got stuff for everyone in the family- including some new house pants for Kevin, and some sweats for me... even "fifty dollars a pair" school shoes for the kids, and I paid a mere eleven dollars a pair. Who could complain about that?
Yes I went to the "AAFES sucks" (women's) section, and found all my bitchery is not unrewarded... I sent them a letter two months ago about the dark dingy corner with 98% ugly clothes. They email placated me, or so I thought... and then they went and bent over backwards for the customer- They installed new light bulbs- now I can see the ugly clothes better. I got results! Huzzah!
Heidi was, as always, great company... and much fun to shop with, as she shops like I do- she sees, she walks to, she grabs, and she walks on. If you are one of those "shopaholics" you should stop reading now, before I offend you.
One of my other good friends who has since PCS'd was fabulous- until you took her up on that shopping offer. She had to try shit on-and not just here and there- but in every single store. She enjoyed spending hours sorting through racks of stuff looking for a good price, instead of heading for the sales rack right off...she tortured me with waiting for her a cumulative number of hours, standing outside of dressing rooms, while she tried on an ass-load of items... none of which she purchased.
There are more of you out there like her... You are all nucking futs.
If you wear the same size jeans this week as last week, and ask me to go with you to get another pair just like them this weekend- then go in, get the jeans and lets GEE-OHH! No need to try on THAT pair- if it is made by the same company, and is the same style pant in a different color... you know they fit- let's away. NO NO, you DON'T need to try it on. That Jedi mind-tirck of mine didn't work very well.
Commissary days are no different for me... I have a predetermined set of things to buy, and I go for those things- I don't plug up the frickon isle with my cart while I read the label and compare the price difference of $.04 and ounce or $.05 cents for a name brand can of corn... while my child screams pulls shit off the shelves. Seriously- get a LIFE. Go find a new addiction- hear here Alcohol is popular...
hmm, seems I am ranting again.
Anyways.. tonight was great.
Fun sometimes, to act like a grown-up, and leave the kids at home...

Oddity

It just occurred to me, as I was sitting here, waiting for my coffee to finish (hurry up!!), that I read my favorite blog sites before I read the news in the morning... I don't read any of those upbeat contemporary blogs either- the ones that talk about recent events and politics.... I read mostly those of other wives and mothers.
Thinking on it a bit, I am actually quite faithful about it. If something got bombed or crashed into from the time I went to bed until now, I wouldn't have the slightest clue until at least an hour from now... after I had turned on the TV, or finished my blogs, checked ebay, chased the cat off the table, and read my mail.
That's kind of odd, isn't it?
I am obviously not very politically savvy.

New Gallery

I finally did it.
Got my proverbial shit together, and made a photo gallery that I actually like and that I can update easily.
Only took me five months, right?
You can check it out with the links on the right.

I am still sick as a dog, and used my infection induced insomnia to put this together.
Hope you like!

Sick

I feel like an economy sized can of smashed assholes.
Who comes down with a cold in the middle of the summer?!
The sneezing, the stuffy nose, the snotty throat..it's all too much to bear. I am coughing up balls of snotty crap the color of original gatorade- a good indicator that I have a full-blown sinus infection. It is no doubt the result of my allergies to the many, many, many, green things that grow here- it has gotten worse since the big rains of last week have stopped and the sun came out. Now everything is germinating and trying to kill me with a slow death of drowning in phlegm.
Of course, when the mom gets sick- the world does not stop... it just turns upside down. I can't possibly just not be mom. I can't call in, and take a day off. The children must be fed, the house must be picked up, the clothes must be washed, the dishwasher loaded. If it is not, it won't go anywhere- it will just be ten times worse when I am feeling myself again to do it. There are times I am convinced this job of "domestic engineer" sucks. The pay is awful, and the vacation package is atrocious.
I need a nanny...someone to make me soup and tuck me into bed, and keep the house running and quiet without me. The cure now becomes painfully obvious, and terribly unattainable. I need to hit Megabucks.
Shit.

Ugh!

Have I said before I HATE going to Ramstein?
I hate going to Ramstein. The parking mostly bothers me, but the traffic and the constant construction that rivals the Phoenix DOT in it's inconvenience and seeming uselessness. Today, I have to go back for my Physical Therapy session; the first of many. I don't want to go; I just hate the idea of driving there, parking there, being there, driving home from there. Today the entire concept of shoes makes me wince. To go and do movements with odd looking appliances? Unappealing to say the least. Alas, I must.
As I know Heidi reads this daily, if I didn't go, I would never hear the end of it... Not from her, my mother or my husband. I dislike you all for it, even if just a little. I am all about transference. If I have to go... it must be someone's fault; the doctor's... maybe the man in moon. Have to have someplace to direct the angst, lest I turn it inwards and become a little more of a lunatic.

To My Silent Readers

I have just again checked my web-stats. It's a compulsion... completely anal, I know, but I really have great fun reading the shit I get hits off of from search engines. I also have a counter for people who added me to a favorites bar. We are up to 15 for the month...
I would just like to know... who are you people?
You don't comment, you just read and run.
Do you actually come back, or are you one of those who has a favorites tab the length of Rapunzel's hair...so bad that the latest greatest thing on the skymall catalog ends up in it- though you have no intention of EVER purchasing some four hundred dollar piece of shit technology that transfers Vinyl records to CD-R.... so you don't have to spend ten dollars to download the whole album of MP3's from the Apple store?
I digress. It seems highly unlikely anyone who would add me to a favorites tab would be a wacko... oh, wait... I'm a wacko.

Who the fuck are you people?
You just stopping by for a Springer-esque dose of idiot, crazy military mom and wife?
Comment, please... Let me know you were here. It makes me feel important. ;)

Kids are Gross

I spent the majority of yesterday and today rearranging the kids stuff. Since Rachel refuses, as of late to sleep in her own room, and Brenden seems to encourage her to bunk with him, so no one is lonely nor scared of the dark; we are adapting the rooms into a bedroom and play room set up.
This, of course means sifting thru all the toys they both have to pull out the various junk and broken bits, and sorting them into some kind of system they can understand and comply with... Cars with cars, play kitchen with play kitchen.
The bedroom, the smaller of the two rooms, is filled with various clothing that has been MIA since the early spring, candy wrappers and my missing cups. Despite my best efforts to stop the missions of taking food and hiding it from me in their rooms, I have failed. Now I must pay for that failure by, once again, being grossed out by crusty pudding cups, brick hard half eaten sandwiches, and globs of God-knows-what on the floor holding onto starburst wrappers like super glue.
Every time we do anything like this, we get the pie crust promises that they won't do it again... and they do. We know they will, but for a few days it is nice to delude ourselves into thinking otherwise.
The play room is not fraught with the spoils no two kids under the age of 8 could ever dream of... TV, DVD player, eMac with wireless internet, coloring desk, books, chairs and bean bag, leap pads, trucks and barbies, and a metric ton of stuffed animals.
Now all I have to do is pick some kind of themes for the rooms, so that each one is more unisex. I did her "Powerpuff" room two years ago, and thru my frugal ebay ways, was able to get it all done for about $60.00.
It took me two weeks of scouring the net for all the things I put in there, and another 3 days of painting, sticking, designing, and such to put it all together. Rather nice effect, but it's well past time for a change.
His room- now the bedroom- is all Buzz Lightyear- and I have already decided to go with a more space/celestial theme for that one. Conducive of sleep and dreamy time.
Maybe I should hire myself out as a kids room designer.
I could make a fortune.

Insomnia Again

It's nearly 3:30 am.
I am still awake. This last week has been rough sleep-wise. Last night, I went to bed at 5 in the morning- just as the sun was breaking the horizon- thank heavens for the thick trees outside to the east. I didn't nap today either. Welcome to the parts of my life that actually define me as, and bring out the worst symptoms of, bi-polar disorder.
In other news, there was a bomb threat on base today. Had I been on base at the time, I would have found out first hand. Instead, I was made aware as a friend came over with her kids to play at noon-ish. She had been standing outside in the park for 2 hours and needed a place to sit.
After the London thing this week, (and I may rant tomorrow about the US media and the American arrogant attitude about "the world"), they had to be completely thorough, and she was not able to go home again until after four in the afternoon.
The house was... very noisy. The little one would get upset, and mom would coddle him. He would go back to play, and be back with more hurt feelings. I do not miss that age in my kids. Then there was the general ya-ya that ensues with a bunch of kids who get along great being packed in a 10' x 12' room together.
I was glad to help... I was glad when it was over, too.
Two six year olds, a five year old and a three year old in a house where a grumpy husband who is purposefully trying to escape and get a nap is combustible at best... especially when the hostess didn't see sleep during the hours of darkness. We made it through. Everyone in tact, and none worse for wear... Except me. As I am the only one still awake, and I am not sure how much longer it will be before I can retire without that nagging sensation of being exhausted, and sleep refusing to come to me.
Tomorrow is a commiscary day.
Pray for the other patrons of the Vogelweh store.

Fixed-ish

The admin of Vista Pages has installed the patch for Movable type, and most of the things seemed fixed with my site. I do, however, seem to be having problems with power editing mode and such... but that is my problem, not that of my readers. :)
I went today for my first Physical Therapy session at Ramstein. It was... painful.
Maj Boone took measurements- and my right ankle is about an inch bigger than my left, and was impressed at the range of movement in my "normal" foot. She took lots of notes. I like doctors who take lots of notes... Makes me think they are taking the time to really assess my problem. Then she bent and twisted my bad ankle and took measurements. Thats where the pain part was at, mostly. She also made me stand on my bad leg and try to balance. A whole new definition of "Ow!".
The wonderful doc prescribed some new kind of anti-inflamatory, as motrin sucks, and when I walked into the pharmacy, the computer system crashed. Nice.
She also prescribed my return, twice a week for a month, and she gave me some nifty rubber bands to bring home. I have a series of exercises to do with said bands that hurt like a bitch, but are supposed to make it stronger in the end. We can only hope, right?
When I go back on Tuesday, I will have to get on these machines that look like some kind of nazi war doctor devices and work my foot out that way. We'll have to see where it goes.

500 error

MT is having issues with cPanel these days. I am not the only blogger who has noticed.
I have had issues with posting and modifying certain entries. MT is working on a fix, which I may or may not be able to get Vista pages to use so I can blog care free again... Until then, entries may be a bit hit and miss.
Prolific as I am, it is difficult for me to keep my posts to less than 100 or so words, which is where the bug seems to like to make my site freak out... That is the nice way of saying I like to run my big fucking mouth, and this bug has put a cramp in my style.

Worth 1000 words

Went to see fireworks, as did most every American.
Even got a few great pictures from it.


We had all decided in the middle of the week to not be among the crazy people and go ON base to watch the display, to only end up trying to fight for our lives to get off base, (sometime before the sun came up the next morning).
So, scouting the locations, I saw a little dirt pull off across the road from the runway, near an insurance agency.... Wasn't sure we'd have a good view, but it was sure to be better than the throngs of insane people and their cars post-show. We were delightfully surprised when the show started, and we ended up with the best seat in the house- maybe 150-200 feet behind the mortars! Totally cool.
The kids had a great time! We had a great time! Happy birthday America!

Freedom Fest 2005

Took the kids on what promised to be a fun filled afternoon to "Freedom Fest" at Ramstein today. It is a yearly carnival type event they set up for the fourth, with rides, a midway and a gigantic beer tent. This is our second trip, and it is much better and bigger than last year.
We arrived early, and were fortunate enough to find a parking spot not in east-bumfuck... of course when we first got there at noon, everything was still in the process of opening, so we had to walk around a bit with a couple of excited kids who wanted to go do everything, when nothing was operational.
It wasn't too long before we were bouncing ping pong balls into barware type glasses in hopes of winning them. Even Rachel won herself a little stein... a slightly bigger then shot-glass sized mug with the city of Saltzburg embossed on it. I won a .4 liter pilsner glass, and Scott and Heidi got a few too... More than we did, but they have older kids- who one up our family-they are a better set of shots as a whole :)
The kids went on a mini-merry go round; one of the kids got to ride Bart Simpson. Then it was off to the bumper cars. Unable, due to my injury, to partake, Scott drove for Rachel, and Kevin with Brenden.
There were a few times that Kevin, since he let Brenden do all the steering, looked a little frightened, as though he were at the mercy of a madman. Which, of course, he rather was. Brave daddy... I am fearful of him turning 16.
Off again, we next did the Himalaya/ Avalanche... the ride that spins around through a tunnel, up and down- I have seen it called many names. Sometimes they go backwards, this one went forwards, and it was my turn to escort the young thrill seeking Brenden on it. Being so very early in the day, the ride operator ran the experience for a long time- what I would normally consider three times longer, and the kid was really digging it- he put his arms up, smiled his ass off, and constantly screamed "Faster, Faster!" I had a sore neck from the G-force when I got off, but it was great fun; Scott and Heidi and gang in the car ahead of us had a great time too- especially when Scott turned around and said "This is one damn long ride!"

The next stop on our tour-de-circle was the scrambled eggs type ride... except it was very whippy. I had my reservations about letting Brenden ride it, but he was insistent. Half way through the ride, I saw him get incredibly pale, and sport the "Im gonna blow chunks" face, by the time I had gimped up to the ride operator to ask him to shut it down, it was over, and Brenden was all sorts of dizzy and nauseated.

GIven Brenden's new found motion sickness, we walked to the giant beer tent so he could sit down and get a drink. We had rather dry and rubbery hamburgers and some water. My son wasn't up for eating, but he have a few sips of my water bottle and put his head down, as we waited for the Watsons to join us. As they ate, Brenden moved to another bench to put his head down... and then it all got bad....

Some volunteer, whom I will name either "Private Prickhead" or "Airman Assface"... must have been in a rush to get his job done so he could go wank-off, or engage in some other form of prickishness, failed to properly lock the legs of the bench, so that when someone sat on it, it would not collapse. The victim? My poor little nauseated boy.
He hit the ground with a great crash, and began to scream. Thinking that where I saw the immediate blood was the problem, I looked in his mouth- where he now has two chipped teeth. I set him on the table, and turn to the closest vendor- where he feels the need to announce "It's not our fault, we didn't put that together", (like I give a shit), and another man behind the counter does something useful and hands us some ice. Heidi, as incensed as I am, tells the old fart, "We didn't say it was your fault- can you tell us who is responsible, so we can talk to them?!" (What kind of asshole sees a little kid screaming in pain and bleeding, and the first thing into his head is "Wasn't me". Fuck-bag. Brenden is not only howling in pain, but does see that EVERYONE else in the tent has stopped and it is looking at him, which only makes it worse.
Brenden's eye, by this time, is growing a lovely goose egg, and he is still wailing. Now, he is a tough kid, and he rarely keeps crying when he is minorly hurt, and I am beginning to think we will be spending the rest of the afternoon in the ER. Brenden is not only howling in pain, but does see that EVERYONE else in the tent has stopped and it is looking at him, which only makes it worse.
Heidi, always thinking on her feet, mentions that there are medics on site, and we got out in search of one, as well as the fuck-bags who ARE responsible for the set up of the tent, so I can yell at someone, (and let them know that a problem exists, as any civilly responsible person would).
At least the kiddo had forgotten about his tummy ache. The medic said he was fine, and we got a half-assed apology from someone who was in no position to be in charge of anything, and therefore not the right person to make an apology about anything. I was, and still am, way pissed off about the whole incident.
Poor little-man- he was still crying in pain, and now upset that we had to come home; whimpering through his tears that now he was gonna miss all the fun. His eye knot was turning purple, and I could tell he was trying so hard to be brave. We grabbed the kids some cotton candy, and headed back for the car, Brenden still crying that his eye hurt so very bad.
We may try to go back tomorrow in the early hours for him, so he doesn't feel like he got gipped... I feel like he got gipped.
A final note to whatever your name is who was responsible for putting up the tables and chairs at the freedom fest 2005- the shithead who put up the benches at very the rear of the tent, on the left hand side near the small beer and burger vendor ... You're an asshole!! You owe my kid and my family an apology. You also should apologize to the Watsons for making them worry. You should grovel at the feet of my five year old daughter, as your carelessness put a rapid halt to her fun, as she was out playing midway games with her daddy. It could have been a lot worse- my poor son could have suffered a concussion or lost teeth or a broken bone- all because you had to be a gigantic negligent imbecile, and do slipshod work, instead of taking the 1.5 extra seconds to ensure a latch was locked. I hope your ballsack runs into a hungry and pissed off pit bull, you jerk.