Shabam. Shabang. Shabooty!

Sha-bam! Sha-booty! Sha… bangs?

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It’s been over two years since I cut my bangs and I decided to give them another go! Cutting them is something I had been contemplating for about a week. I’ve got another big reveal coming up and just wanting something to mirror that change. I was initially going for side-swept bangs, [why, oh why can’t we call them fringe in the states? Sounds a million times cuter, but I digress..] but realized that I would probably just pin side-swept bangs up how I had been pinning that part of my hair up for two years now. So there you go, heavy blunt bangs. Let’s file this post under the “snap” category of this blog because it did take 36 pictures to find the perfect one for this reveal.

My friends helped me have the courage to make the cut, and my son was amused by the change. He studied my face for a full two minutes before laughing. And if you’re wondering where the title of this post comes from, chock it up to my mom and I being the random women that we are.

Back in a few days with something you’re not going to want to miss. . .

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Calling Dibs

My husband left 239 days, and a little over two hours ago.. Two-thirds of an entire year, gone. I wish I could say that time passed in the blink of an eye, but it didn’t. They all said time would crawl by until I had the baby, and then it would go lighting fast, but that wasn’t the case either. I felt every moment of the missing.

It is difficult for most non-military families to truly understand how being separated that long feels.. I’m not saying that working opposite shifts isn’t hard, or that a week away for training should be easy. But it isn’t the same. At first, you count the days that pass. Missing hugs and goodnight kisses. Then weeks begin to slip away, and daily events are glazed over in the short emails you exchange. It’s long enough for new routines to be established. Seasons come and go. I bought a house last year. Traded in our car and had a baby… all without him. I’m not saying I’m the only one who has had to do those things alone, but I am saying that it isn’t ideal. When your partner in crime suddenly isn’t anymore, and you’re left to keep up the household, keep everything together.

It’s almost over. The countdown to our airport homecoming is almost up. Time is running out to pick out homecoming outfits, to get the house clean and organized, and things put back to how they were when he left so that it feels like home again.

I can’t wait for a new routine to slowly emerge. For a single night away during one his duty days to feel like forever again. For our son to have not only me, but his daddy to play with, to smile and talk to. I can’t wait to sneak a million pictures of the two of them together, of us all together, finally a whole family.

Since it will no longer be “ship’s movement,” I wish I could post the exact countdown, but this is linked to my Facebook and there are a couple people who don’t need to know right now. We are being selfish, and we called dibs on those first few moments home the day he left. Just know that it is very, very soon. Only a few more wake-ups without him.

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Blowing Raspberries

My blog feels a little dead, I will admit that. My mom was visiting, and with my husband’s homecoming breathing down my neck, I’ve been doing my best to stay busy. In the haze of activity, the bumble butt has been sleep regressing and teething and reaching a new, small developmental milestone each day. It’s amazing.

There is something magical about watching a tiny human grow up before your eyes. To go from the newborn days of the eat/sleep/poop/cry cycle, to a baby that is rolling over and laughing, scooting in circles on the floor and blowing raspberries. I didn’t think my blog would be consumed by baby talk once the little man was here, but it’s kind of hard to not talk about him. His sometimes happy, sometimes grumpy face is the first thing I see every morning, and the last thing I see at night. Make that multiple times a night.

Raspberries

I bought a camcorder, to capture all these little memories, and it was definitely one of those purchases that made me feel old. I mean, I can vaguely remember the boom-box sized camcorder my parents used to record my antics as a kid back in the 90’s… and the fact that my size reference is an out-dated music player kind of seals the deal. I somehow went from being a kid myself, to having one, in what feels like no time at all. Anyway.. I can hear the little dragon stirring from his nap.

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A Hard Year

It’s been a hard year.

Searched out my old blog hosted by blogger to find the name of a song I knew would be on the music player there. Found it. Paused for a few minutes to read the first few posts, or the last few before I moved to this blog, my “real” blog.

One of those last posts was written 364 days ago, detailing a mini-vacation the sailor and I had taken. I can remember getting into a fight, but I can’t remember about what and I don’t remember how we made it better, or if we did at all.

It’s been a hard year.

I often say, if you told me x-amount of time ago I would be here, now, I wouldn’t believe you. And that is true for a year ago, today. If you told me I would be in Washington, sitting in the living room of a home my husband and I own, nine months pregnant, waiting for the days to pass until they all blend together… well, I don’t think I would believe you.

This isn’t how I expected things to be, back when I was excited to be stationed in Washington, excited to return to the West Coast. I am doing the best I can, but I sometimes wonder why I ever wanted to come here. I wonder why I ever veered off the path laid out for me. Followed my heart instead of my head, chose a family over a career (even though they say you don’t have to choose).

All that nonsense.

Over Thought

I’m in a talking mood today, and unfortunately for you, I currently live alone and my baby boy is asleep, so I figure writing would be a fine substitution…. Some nights I don’t sleep well because there are too many thoughts swirling around in my mind. It’s almost as if the processing that’s supposed to be done by your subconscious when you sleep, begins too soon, and I am well aware of it’s work. Last night was one of those nights. I can’t remember exactly what my mind chatter was all about. It was too much like standing in one spot on the platform of a busy train station. Too  many thoughts coming and going; hitching rides together and disappearing before I had a chance to grasp what they were all about. I was just aware of the constant motion, the disorderly organization of it all.

I think I over think things. I have always been this way though, for as long as I can remember, and as far as I know, it’s not intentional. I wrote a post a while ago about being stuck in the past, or looking back too often… I believe that is because I spend too much time in my head. I’m not the cerebral type at all. Don’t confuse me with someone who doesn’t have or choose to respond to their feelings. I think this blog alone paints a pretty accurate picture of that.

I just like to mull things over. To take a thought or idea and write it down on binder paper, old school style. To tear it apart into it’s smallest components and wonder why it is the way it is. I wonder why people are the way they are – and it must be the things they think but don’t dare say, much of who I am is what is written on these pages… the thoughts I could never just say aloud. I could sit here and wonder how I got here for hours. Especially because this isn’t where I thought I would be a year ago.. no where near who I thought I would be at the beginning of college.

It makes me wonder how much God is involved on a daily basis. I was saved when I was thirteen, but spent much of my teen years off doing my own thing. Now that I am back to praying daily, what affect does He have exactly? What would my life be like if I couldn’t believe, if there weren’t that calling in my heart? Why did I need to believe when the rest of my family doesn’t?

Why me.. I spend my free time meditating and reflecting and I think it makes me a better person, but that’s not to say someone who never takes a second to analyze their life is wrong. I wonder what it would be like to live that way for a week. I wonder if I would be any different.

I have friends that think my life is over because I’m this old, married and with a baby on the way. What they don’t know, is that I want to tell them that they are too afraid to start living. The social, party scene was never my thing.  It’s like a rut I see them get caught in. Work or school all week, Friday hits (TGIF by the way) and it’s once again time to pre-game for a weekend spent drinking and hanging out with other people who are stuck in the same way you are. People who are on the same “train” as you.

I feel like in many ways the decision to get married wasn’t mine to make. It was the path I inherently knew was mine to take. And I do take ownership for standing there, repeating vows that I didn’t remember but a second later. I was in the moment but out of it. It was life changing. It was one of those decisions that forces you to move away from who you were. Having a baby will be the same. It’s no wonder my friends think I’ve reached the end of all the good times in my life.. they can’t see the grass is still green on the other side from where they are standing. They can’t possibly know.

And so there you have it. A peak into what my mind is like the morning after a night of little rest. Tonight I hope to fall asleep and just sleep, but with a baby boy bouncing around all night, it’s highly unlikely that will happen. I almost don’t want to post this publicly.. because who really wants to read this? But it is my blog for saying the things I can’t say out loud; for writing the things I don’t think anyone would care to read. Let’s be honest, most days my page gets two hits, and one is probably me, signing in. I’m ok with that.

We Are Never Ever Ever

I’ve had a song stuck in my head since I first heard it on the radio early last week.. Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.”

The funny thing is that it has 0% to do with my life!! I haven’t broken up with someone in years and even then, I was never the type to go back to someone. Once and done. I guess I should feel sad because I am now long past that phase of my life… That is, if I hadn’t hated the high school, college age of dating and wondering where I would end up in this world, who I would marry. It’s almost like a comfort of sorts to remind myself that I’m never, ever going back to that. Marriage, especially to my high school best friend who was there all along just waiting for me to find him and vice versa, definitely has it’s inherent benefits.

If you haven’t given it a listen, check it out in the iTunes store. I tried to find it for free on Youtube but there’s no official video up, just a few pretty good covers by random people. If nothing else, it’s extremely catchy and unlike all her other songs, it’s not a love song. Haha.

Summer Soon

I was thinking I owed it to anyone who might still read this thing to post something besides a weekly update, but all I’ve got are a bunch of random thoughts on my mind.

It felt like summer earlier this week. Was bright and sunny, like we brought back a part of CA to the typically gloomy Washington skies. Didn’t last long though, because it is once again an overcast and misty day out there. Was sunny long enough for me to buy a hoola hoop though, in the spirit of summer and all. I’m going to see if I can get Graham to jump through it, even though he really isn’t that great at jumping. And then I’ll get to see if I’m still any good at hula hooping. Haha! A gym I used to work out at in SoCal had weighted hula hoops and they were the best at working out your abs while standing up. It was either use the muscles, or squish your kidneys which never really felt all that awesome. That’s part of the reason I suspect – despite this little fat covering I’ve got on my belly – that it will be a long time before I’m honestly “showing” or have “popped.” I’m okay with that though. Less stretching = less stretch marks.

I’m still fighting off this cold. Had a major coughing fit as I walked into Target which was less than ideal considering all the stares I got. I know, sick people suck, but I’ve still got shopping to do and finally have the energy to leave the house for more than cold medicine. Oh! Speaking of shopping, I’m going to challenge myself to cook a wider variety of dinners. I’m in a major food rut of pasta, shake and bake chicken, salad w/ranch dressing. Things that are fine every once in a while, but have become far too easy to make way too often. I want more variety. And I also want to start making a salad as part of our meals every night for dinner. Doing the dishes together after that,  and going on walks afterwards. It’s time for some change.

I really wish I could be grocery shopping right now, as our fridge doesn’t have much besides yogurt, pickles and condiments in it. I feel the need to clarify that the pickles are for me, but not because I’m pregnant, just because they are delicious with a turkey and cheese sandwich. Instead of shopping for lunch foods and dinner foods, I am instead stuck here waiting for a plumber to come give me an estimate of what it will cost to clean the massive root invasion in our sewer line. The line that runs diagonally down our entire front yard. The same one I am hoping they can just jet (clean) and not have to dig a trench and replace because that would look seriously awful for a long time. Fingers crossed! The joys of home ownership; always something that needs fixing/replaced/worked on/painted. Anyway, I think I’ve about said enough for now. Going to make myself a sandwich for lunch and then take Graham a lamb out for some fetch in the yard. That is, if he actually feels like retrieving the ball today, unlike yesterday when he just looked at it.