OH hai!

SO. I was planning to go back and "catch up" on my blogs. Every time I sit down to do it, I get busy. Apparently 5 month olds keep you on your toes. 5 MONTH OLD? Yes. My sweet, tiny, preemie, couldn't wait to get here baby is 5 months old. Closer to 6 at this point if you're counting. Or you're my mother in law. Hi, Meme, if you ever happen to read this.

We've taken several trips. We've gone to Louisiana a couple of times, Charlie had his first flight to Maine in June, and last night he had his first food... sweet potatoes. He's found his hands, his feet, my hands, my feet, Hanker's hands, Hanker's feet... you get the point. He is soooo inquisitive and amazing. He's at the age where he sees everything. He's always looking around. I love it. He's getting so interactive and giggly. OH the giggles. I never thought I'd be the kind of person who acts a total fool for their child, but here we are. With me acting like a goob to get this boy to giggle. Be still my heart.

The whirlwind nature of mine and Bob's courtship, marriage, and life has no slowed down at all. Charlie has just been folded into the mix, and we've all adjusted pretty well. Later this month will be our three year engagement-iversary. Holy crap. It barely seems like it's been a year.

I'm going to try to start blogging regularly again. But things come up. Like spit. And drool. And sweet Jesus, hopefully some teeth soon.

See you peeps around!

It's official.

Charlie and I are alone for the first time. For days. For 4 days. Holy balls.

He still has his cold, but he's sleeping better. Last night he only woke up one time! Woo hoo! I see light. It may be a nightlight at 4am, but hey, it's still a light toward the end of the tunnel. Hopefully. 

We are getting ready for our first trip away from home. It isn't until Easter, but I'm already nervous about it. It'll be just Charlie and I driving to Atlanta. Just the logistics bother me. How do I go pee? Do I take the carseat in? Take Charlie out and put him in a wrap carrier? Will he sleep the whole time? Do I wake him up to feed him where I'm comfortable stopping or when he's starts screaming? SOO MANY QUESTIONS. I know it'll be fine. I'm just anxious. Time to break out the big girl panties again. And not just because I haven't dropped all the baby weight...

And that's another thing. At what point do you buy new clothes and give up hope of fitting in pre-preg clothes? Well. That point for me was this week. I went shopping, and for the first time (maybe ever) I HATED all the clothes. Not just the fit, I hated the styles and colors. I found a few things at Loft and Old Navy. I refuse to spend a whole lot on new clothes. Eventually I fit back into my old ones. Eventually. Right?!

And now, a photo filled post...

Can I have these boobs, Mom? Typical boy... already after some boobs. And check out that head control? Super baby.

I love pissy baby pictures.

He loves his monkey. When Bob deployed, I gave him a sock monkey drenched in my perfume before he left. We named him Don Juan (DJ), and I call Charlie's monkey, Junior (as in Don Juan Junior).

He's finally able to wear newborn clothes! They finally fit!!! Yay!

Burning the midnight oil.

Or maybe the 4am oil, perhaps.

Charlie has his first cold. A cold that he apparently picked up AT the doctors office earlier this week. I adore our pediatrician and his staff. They are all awesome. I don't, however, love their waiting room. There is no division between perfectly healthy newborns there for their well baby checks and the snot nosed, puking, or bleeding 1-18 year olds. It's just aggravating. To go to the doctor and then get sick.

So anyway. We're dealing (meaning, I'm freaking out) with this new illness. I never knew baby poop could be so disgusting. My facebook friends have told me it gets worse, but holy balls. Tonight I made Bob change him. It was just as bad as it was last night. It literally seems like something crawled in his ass and died, and then came back out as green pudding. Yes, I know you all wanted that vision. Sorry. If I have to deal, so do you. You're lucky Bob didn't get his way tonight... He wanted to take a picture of it and send it to his friends. Thank GOD he didn't have his phone in the room with him, and I refused to go get it.

Bob goes back to work next week, and I'm already dreading it. It's going to suck being here alone. Not just dealing with Charlie alone, but actually being alone and not having anyone to talk to. I've had at least one other person in this house every day since February 21. It's going to be so quiet and boring here, and I've already binge-watched all of Orange is the New Black. Damn Netflix... I didn't realize the new season wasn't out yet. 

Happy life.

So sitting here this morning, I was looking at all the pictures of Bob and I around our living room. Very soon, someone will be looking at those pictures thinking, those are my parents. Holy crap.

In looking at these pictures and back at mine and Bob's history together, I'm proud of the marriage we have. I'm so happy that we are bringing this baby into our relationship. I am having a baby with my very best friend. I get to experience all this with someone who knows me better than I know myself somedays, especially now with my hormonal baby brain.

I am so excited to see Bob as a dad. For so long, I saw him as a friend. One of my bestest. Now I get to see him as a husband. The chance to see him as a dad... This makes me happy. Especially since it's MY baby's dad!

A week of remembering.

There are some times of each year that you just know will be shitty. This particular week is one of them. In various years, three of the most important people to ever touch my life all passed away. Add pregnancy hormones and an absent husband and you have one hell of a craptastic week.

The first 5 years of my life, I lived and breathed for my great grandmother, Mom's grandmother. My mom was back in college, and I'd stay with my Nonnie every day when Mom went to class. We had a very special relationship. Even at 5 years old, I knew this. I remember the day she died. I remember where I was (Mamaw's house) and what I was wearing when my parents told me, or rather, when my Daddy told me. My mother couldn't quite speak, if I recall correctly. Nonnie had been her one and only constant during her childhood. We both struggled when she died. I still vividly remember all things surrounding her death on February 10, including her funeral a few days later, again, including what I wore. I wasn't sure what death was at the age of 5, but I knew enough to know my Nonnie was gone.

In 2005, I lost my Mamaw. My Dad's mom was the strongest woman I've ever known. Being the only granddaughter, she and I were special together. I was the one who drove her around, took her shopping (and to Burger King for fish sandwiches and vanilla malts), tilled her garden, learned her recipes, looked at her pictures, balanced her checkbook, learned the family stories, called her almost daily, and was the one she told when she was ready to finally go to the hospital when she was dying. She had a not so very long battle with ovarian cancer, and when she decided she was ready to go, she went. Her death is still the most peaceful event I've ever experienced. Myself, along with all my relatives, cousins, aunts, uncles were in the ICU cubicle when she died. Her breathing and heart rate slowed, and we all thought she was gone. Then she perked back up for a minute, enough for a cousin to comment that clearly heaven wasn't perfectly ready for her yet and she was waiting for them to sweep the floor again. A few minutes later, she was gone. We were all there with her when she took her last breath. It was peaceful and perfect, if you can describe a death as perfect, on February 13. I can tell you from experience, flower shops are not prepared to deal with grieving people picking out funeral flowers on Valentine's Day. But that's what my aunt and I did that day. And yes, it sucked as much as you can imagine.

Through both of those deaths, my Aunt Hazy had been there for me. She was Nonnie's daughter and roommate and had been an important part of mine and Mom's lives. She'd never had any children and made Mom and her own. She spoiled us both, not with money or stuff, but with love, homemade fudge, and amazing margaritas. She was the person that we could both go to for advice, or venting, or anything really. She was a sharp tongued, tell it like it is, smart ass who smoked like a chimney and rarely kept her thoughts to herself. In short, mine and Mom's hero. When she died on February 8, my world was totally shaken. During her wake and funeral, almost everyone there came up to me and told me what an important role I'd had in Sara's life, how she never missed an opportunity to talk about me and what I was doing at that point in life. I knew she had played a huge role in my life, but I never considered the role I'd played in hers. It made the hole she left even bigger, a hole that is still very much there.


I'm so ready for Bob to be home, but his trip back home keeps getting cancelled. He's been told the significance of this week in the past, but I haven't reminded him this year, and he hasn't been at home to see my sadness. This year, it's been my own sad struggle alone, which is okay. It has made me even more ready for my little guy to be here. I need someone to hug and snuggle with, besides Hank, who has had the most epic flatulence this week. Thanks, bud.... as if I needed another reason to make my eyes water.

Hormones are a bitch.

So this week has been a flurry of activity in our house. We've been trying to get everything cute and looking just right in preparation for my baby shower this weekend...at our house. Bob had a honey-do list damn near a mile long. I've stressed us both out to the max. Nesting blows sometimes.

So Wednesday night, after an already super long day at work, I decided to tackle assembling our brand spankin' new pack n play... alone. I assumed I could handle it. I could not. It took me 1.5 episodes of DVR'd Ellen to put the damn thing together. Bob got home around 11pm, surveyed my work, and declared that surely it wasn't THAT difficult. Yep. That made me feel lots better.

Once upstairs, Bob started asking questions about how I wanted Baby's curtains hung in his room (which was to be Bob's Thursday project). Aaaaand I lost my shit. I told him I'd just do it myself and he could just go to bed. I went into our bedroom to fold laundry, he came in and told me to breathe, and I lost it. I cried for approximately 30 minutes, hyperventilated a smidge, and then started all over again when I realized he was smirking at the scene in front of him.... ME. Sweet Jesus. He didn't say it out loud, but I KNOW he was thinking, "Where in the hell is the calm, sensible, even-keeled woman I married?" Well, buddy, you knocked her up and now she's a bundle of hormones and tears.

So by Thursday, all was well again. I had another doctors appointment, and Baby G is measuring and sounding just like a galloping horse. I'm now at 31 weeks and so ready for March 20 its not even funny!

How to raise our child.

This week, Bob has left the fuzzy butts and I home alone to travel to Maine. His Grandpa is currently living there (with one of his kids), and he's not in the best of health. Bob went up to spend a couple days with him. No one knows for sure how long Gpa will be here, so Bob wanted the chance to see him again.

Since he's been there, Bob has purchased groceries for the Aunt and Uncle Gpa is living with, and he's cooked them dinner tonight (with enough for leftovers). It makes me so proud that he's so thoughtful and generous. He didn't have to do all that. He didn't need any prodding from me. He just decided to do it.

When I see Bob do things like this, it makes so happy and proud that he will be the father of my children. When he sees that there is something he can do to help someone, he does it. He doesn't expect a single thing in return. He does it because he wants to make that other person happy. While he was in training in Little Rock back during the summer, he spent a weekend and went down to see our families. I didn't expect him to stop in and see MY grandparents, but he did. He spent the afternoon with them, and it meant the world to them. They are still talking about his visit 6 months later.

I want our son to be like this. I want him to genuinely respect his elders. I want him to see an opportunity to help someone, or make someone's day, or go out of his way to be kind to someone in need, and do it. I know it will take urging and examples from Bob and I to teach our kids this. We can show them through actions how we want them to grow up. We can mold them and help them learn to respect their elders, to see how to care for others, to have good manners. To say yes ma'am, no sir, yes thank you, and please. To treat others how they would want to be treated. To respect other peoples opinions and beliefs. To know that being different is okay.  These are things that are very important to me and Bob. I'm excited to watch our son grow up and become the man his dad is today.

Oh baby!

So. It's been a long week. I've puked all over town, fallen asleep at work, and heard the baby's heartbeat. HOLY CRAP.

I had my first official doctors appointment on Thursday. It took me approximately 45 minutes to pee in a cup. Yep. Talk about a shy bladder. Once I FINALLY squeezed out some urine, they immediately took me back to the room with a big CONGRATS! My doctor came in beaming, so excited, and ready to chat. We talked through all the, what I assume to be normal, things. Symptoms. Problems. Expectations.

They were able to squeeze us in with the sonographer too, so we were able to see and hear the baby that same day. Puking the last 5 weeks, being so tired I can't hold my head up, hearing the doc say congrats did not feel real. As soon as I heard the heartbeat, it was there. Real. Actual. And boy, did the tears start falling. Even sweet Bob teared up a little. The sonographer printed some pictures for us, and then I went out to do the pre-screening blood tests for genetic disorders. They haven't taken that much blood from me since the mysterious elbow incident of 2010.

So anyway. We have a baby. Growing and making it's Mama super crazy sick. Hank also seems to be aware of it's presence. He's now resting his head on my belly when we sit together, and it's super sweet.

For now, meet our March baby!

Sappy Saturday.

Some days I realize just how lucky I am. Usually these are days when Bob is home. This morning, we walked Hank down to the waffle shop in our neighborhood, sat outside, and had a lovely breakfast.

This past week was our two year first-date-iversary. At this point, we've known each other for 11 years. We've been "together" for two, married for a little over one. We spent the week together, doing all the things we love.

When I stop to think about what we have with each other, I still get weepy. Sad, I know. We both acknowledge our joint sappiness frequently.

You always hear people say, "I married my best friend." They start dating and then become best friends. We became best friends and then got married. We truly have the very best of both worlds. Finally.

This concludes this edition of Sappy Saturday. 

Two way training.

So it's been ridiculously awesome to have Bob back home! I'm so happy his training is over. However, he's only home this week, and then he's gone again. I pretty much won't see him until our vacation at the end of July. I may get a day here or there, but that'll be it. It's going to suck, but at this point, I'm sadly kinda used to it.

This week while he's been home, I've noticed that he's pretty well trained. He likes to say that he's trained me, but I've also trained him. Usually before I go to sleep, I ask him to rub my back. It relaxes me and puts me close enough to sleep that I actually fall asleep shortly thereafter.

So one night this week, I asked, "Will you do me a favor?" His response was, "Roll over." I'd like him to just volunteer for the back rubbing, but I'm not complaining! I'm going to take full advantage of him being here.

It's got good bones.

Soooo. The pins came out. Holy balls. It was awful. There's a video of it on YouTube, courtesy of Bob. I haven't watched it yet, but I sent it to a guy friend today who proclaimed, "That's some seriously awesome shit!" So naturally, I can't wait to watch it... Not. But my foot is somewhat healed. The bones are where they're supposed to be, leaning the direction they were meant to, and I don't have permanent metal keeping them that way (unlike my right foot).

Now I'm stuck nursing a dried, cracked, swollen, oozy foot. You barf yet? Yeah. I have. My foot is that gross. Bleh. This poor mangled thing is in need of some serious attention, which I am happy to give, especially considering Bob left again today to go back to training. Boo. And again, if you're reading this and you need this surgery, let me know if you wanna see pics. I have weekly updates from both surgeries.

I actually have a pretty exciting weekend planned, and I'm already looking forward to it. A friend from work is hosting a Thirty-One party, which appears to be right up my alley. I also have shopping planned with my girls... One girl is going shoe shopping with me to find shoes that I can actually wear (starting next week!!). The other girlfriend is house accessory/furniture shopping with me. She just moved into a new house and we'll be in ours soon. Hopefully. I'm going to go ahead and start sale shopping for accessories so I don't have to purchase everything at once. It'll be bad enough with all the furniture we have to buy...

Speaking of houses... ours was framed today! We have vertical boards that resemble the walls. WOO HOO!!!!!

 

Sadly, our friends are already picking out "their" bedrooms. And even worse, they will each have their own. We may have picked a floor plan much too large for the two of us. Oh well. Guess we'll need to start having some babies to fill all those bedrooms. 

Boot be gone!

Sooo. Guess who gets out of a boot in less than 2 weeks? THIS GIRL! I'm super crazy excited. My pins come out on Monday, and then I'm in the boot until the doc is comfy with me walking without it, which I estimate to be two weeks. Mainly because I'm not wearing this damn thing any longer, whether he agrees or not. Screw you, doc.

Bob is coming home from training this weekend so he can be here for my pin removal on Monday. I get a smidge queasy and fainty in these situations. I'd rather him be there than just a friend. Not that my Charlotte friends aren't amazing... I'd just prefer my Bob there.

I went out to see him last weekend. We've done a pretty good job of seeing each other on weekends. He's traveled here more than I traveled there, but that's to be expected considering the boot situation. Although the experience was pretty pleasant last week. I have to say, airport peeps go above and beyond for those physically impaired. Or at least they did for me. It was a cluster to actually get to the airport, but once there, it was all smooth sailing... flying.

-I had a lighter suitcase. I can't wear a lot of pants unless the legs roll up over the boot, so I packed only dresses. I also only had to pack one shoe per pair, which saved a lot of space and weight.
-I was able to hitch a Skycap ride and not look like a lazy asshole. It was amazing. We left out of E terminal in Charlotte, which is the furthest from civilization. The walk would have been horrendous... I'd STILL be walking.
-I was able to upgrade to first class. More room equals easier sitting with the boot.
-Free booze in first class paired with a Tramadol made it a pretty sweet flight.
-At every turn, someone was asking if they could help.

Bob suggested I keep the boot handy and use it every time I travel. I'm not sure I could do that, but it sure did make traveling a lot easier.

SnuggleBitch.

So Bob would probably not be super happy for me to share this info, but oh well. He'll live.

He has a pillow that he's had since, uh, birth. It's been restuffed, restitched, and remolded several times over the years by his Mother. It's always lived in the same pillow case and he's always slept with it in his bed, except for when he's working or deployed.

"She" is lovingly called (by me), SnuggleBitch. He totally cuddles with her instead of me, which is okay because I don't love to be snuggled up on while I'm sleeping. I pretend to hate her. When he's home. However, when he's gone, she becomes MY SnuggleBitch, and I love her.

Between her and his t-shirt blanket, I can almost pretend there is body taking up half our bed. It's working until I can purchase this, which will be asap.

Happy Anniversary!

Well, we made it a year! Our one year anniversary was over the weekend. We have been through a lot in the last year, too much to recount. Instead of these horrible things pushing us apart, they brought us closer together. We've learned how to deal with each other, we've needed each other, and we've pumped each other up. We're each others best cheerleader. I mean, I'm obvs a better cheerleader, but you know... Bob's pretty damn good too.

To celebrate, we went down to Charleston. I've never been, and I was craving a beach. And Bob is typically on board with most everything I suggest. So we ordered a cake (our cake topper was misplaced by our venue after the wedding), and headed out. We had a blast hanging out in Charleston. We checked out the market, took a carriage ride, met one of his friends for drinks, and then headed out to Isle of Palms where we actually stayed. I kinda felt like I was with the Mayor. Bob ran into THREE people he knew. One from Charlotte, who we ran into walking down the sidewalk. Another from pilot training, who lives in CHS now, met us for a drink. Then when we were at dinner (try the Boathouse if you're ever in the area.. it's amazing), he saw a guy he played church basketball with in 2001 in Peachtree City, Georgia. Talk about random!! It was nice for them to catch up and say hi.

I forgot our bottle of Dom Perignon at home in Charlotte. So we had our cake and some cheap champagne in the paper hotel cups on Saturday night. Then Sunday when we got back home, we had hot dogs, cake, and Dom in crystal flutes. We're awesome and we know it.

We exchanged gifts before we left for the weekend. Neither of us could wait to give each other our gifts. He gave me a gorgeous crystal clock, which I thought was random until he pointed out clocks are the new "modern" first anniversary gift. It still makes me giggle that he gave me a clock, but it's so damn cute that he actually looked up what he was supposed to give me.

I went with paper for his gift. He received a collage-ish collection of maps of all the places we had our firsts...where we met, where we spent our first weekend together, our first I love you, our wedding, our honeymoon, and our first home together. Yes, I shamelessly stole this idea from Pinterest, but he doesn't need to know that. My plan is to frame pictures from each of those events and group it all together in our bedroom at our new house. It should be pretty freaking awesome and cheesy as hell.

As Bob's sister commented on our facebook picture, we're still smiling after one year. Hopefully all the rest of our years together will end in smiles as well :)

New normal.

Lately, Bob and I have separately realized how unique our every day lives are compared to others. For him, it came when he was trying to schedule our house stuff around his work days. For me, it's been trying to explain to peeps how excited I was for him to be home for my birthday (and next for our anniversary- SQUEE!).

It's not totally normal to be away from your spouse 4 days a week, and then usually only see them at bedtime the other 3 days. We have to plan our lives around his uncertain schedule, which means we really don't plan, which means I've lost a lot of hair and sleep trying to curb my OCD. 

For example, I'm having foot surgery next week. I've known for years that I need this surgery, and I've been putting it off forever. Well now, we're ready to start talking about kids. Like as in, this year. I don't want to be pregnant with a unfixed foot, and if I wait until after babies, I probably won't do it. So we decided this was my year for the fixture. I want Bob in town for the actual surgery. If something went wrong, I'd want him there with me. The only time for us to coordinate that? In between the "vacation" he's taking for our anniversary and his 6-8 week long training out of state.

So. I have surgery on Friday and he leaves sometime early the next week, like Monday potentially, for Washington state. Does it work? In theory, yes. In practicality? We'll see. Luckily, his Mom is coming to stay with me for a few days post-op to help me maneuver life, and I'm super grateful she's available to come babysit!

This post isn't meant as a pity party, it's just confirmation of a realization that our lives aren't normal, but it works for us because we work hard at it.

They all spend the same.

SO. I'm kinda on an ebay kick. I found Bob a birthday present on there and it arrived today in a moderate size box. Covered in 13 cent stamps. 50 of them. Wow.

Back in college, Bob and I switched birthdays. It happened one year when his mom brought him flowers for his birthday, and then he gave them to me. So I get gifts on his and he gets gifts on mine. This year, I've gotten him two things he's wanted for a while, but not enough to purchase for himself. Soooo. I'm pretty pumped to give them to him next month... on my actual birthday!!

Houses and bugs.

Sooo. I've been absent for a while. And it's going to get worse.

Bob and I have been so busy. He had this weekend off (his only one for months and months) so we celebrated with a crawfish boil and a new house. WHAT!?! Yep. You read that correctly. We had crawfish shipped in from Louisiana and had an amazing boil Friday night. It was super awesome and Bob did a phenomenal job with the mudbugs. Tonight, we had andouille and crawfish etouffee. Whew. It was superb.

Now, about the other thing... SQUEEEE! We've been looking at houses for several weeks now. We'd seen a couple we liked, but none we just had to have. So, next best thing? Build your own. So this afternoon, we bought a lot in Fort Mill, SC, and we start construction as soon as all the 9,000 pieces of paperwork go through. Holy crap.

It's going to be huge for the two of us (we're planning ahead), but it's going to be perfect. We get to pick every single detail out and I'm so excited about that! Hank and Jack are going to have more room than they know what to do with, and all our close friends and family will each have their own dedicated bedroom (until the babies come). Squeeeeeee!!

So about my absenteeism... This will probably turn into a house blog, because I'll be bitching about all the house details. But maybe not. Stay tuned and find out.

Valentine's Day.

So I typically don't celebrate Valentine's Day. I don't protest it or have anything against society as they celebrate. My Mamaw died on February 13 a few years ago, and I had to go pick out the flowers for her funeral on Valentine's Day. Soooo. This date is usually just a sad reminder...

Knowing how Bob likes to celebrate every conceivable holiday, I participated this year and I was excited to do it for him. I struggled on what to get him, and finally decided on a man bouquet, thanks to Pinterest. His "bouquet" had duck tape, hot sauce, airplane liquor bottles, beef jerky, Big League Chew, some valentines candy, cigars, some Grizzly (to encourage his bad habit), and sock monkey.

Tangent time: So sock monkey's have kinda become our thing. I'm too lazy to see if I even explained Monkeytoes previously on this blog. When we sleep or cuddle, we grasp each others big toes with our big toes and kinda link them together. Anyway, that's where monkeytoes comes from. For his last deployment, I bought a mini baby sock monkey (nicknamed Don Juan), sprayed a shit ton of my perfume on him, and put him in a plastic bag.  So DJ went to Afghanistan, came home, and now lives in my office. ANYWAY.

He and the fuzzy butts got me candy, lily's, which are one of my fave flowers, and some Nook gift cards. It was perfect. We stayed home last night and cooked dinner. He grilled steaks and I made bang bang shrimp and we had some cheddar stuffed potatoes from the deli. After dinner, we just watched movies. It was awesome.

The fuzzy butts got involved in Valentine's day too. Here's the card they sent to their Grandma, their MP, and Bob. Oh and all of facebook, of course.

 

 

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

We'll start with the ugly:

Yesterday morning, I fell down our stairs. Yep. It wasn't all of them, but I still did some damage. I slipped on the very top step, went airborne (think cartoon-ish situation), and landed on the 4th step down and the landing. It wouldn't have been too bad, except my lower back made the first contact with the edge of the step. My lower back is already screwed, and that little mishap didn't exactly help my situation. I ended up at Urgent Care, where Dr. Brown told me I had blunt force trauma and muscle stiffness. No shit, Doc. He gave me some good drugs and sent me home.

The bad: Bob is leaving tomorrow for his "fake deployment." He deploys (for real) all the time. Now, not only does he real deploy, he fake deploys as well. Basically, there are people in the military who will NEVER deploy. Finance people, office people, on-base people. Tomorrow, those people are being "deployed" so they'll know what to do should they ever be deployed. EXCEPT THEY WILL NEVER ACTUALLY DEPLOY. Bob is the pilot for their "mission" so he has to go sit in ______, Georgia, for 5 days. It's just pure bullshit.

Now for the good: The amazing actually. I'd like to say thank you to everyone who thought happy, job offering thought to me. I GOT THE JOB!!! My absolute dream job. They called and offered on Thursday, and I accepted immediately, with a start date of February 11. YAY!!!!

Life decisions.

Today our choices are:

1. Get a dog

2. Fix my car.

3. Buy a new car.

4. Go to Vegas.

5. Quit my part time and start subbing or suck it up and continue working this measly shit job.

6. Have foot surgery.

Now let's break this down:

1. Get a dog. I am torn on this. I want a dog to keep me company when Bob is gone for work. A friend of mine in Little Rock, who I adopted a dog from previously, has another bundle of adorableness available. He's a sheepadoodle, gets along with cats, and will be massive when he's grown. I know this friend is being honest about the dog's temperament and we won't encounter a situation like Reesie again. Downside is that I'll have this dog alone when Bob is gone. I'll be it's sole provider. Am I ready for that? And if I am, how the balls do I actually obtain the dog? Fly to Little Rock and rent a car to drive him home? He sure as shit won't fit under the plane seat to fly his ass back here.

2/3. Fix my car or buy a new one. My car is dying a slow painful death. We're about to replace the power steering pump for the second time in a year and a half. And that's just one of it's issues. At what point do you stop putting money into an old car and just suck it up and buy a new one? Preferably when I have an actual full time, good paying job. Which means that is not now. With our financial situation and the deals we can get, now is not a BAD time to buy, it's just not perfect. And I wouldn't necessarily get exactly what I want (a Mom car). So I'd get another smallish sedan and hold out for a Mom car when I get impregnated. Someday.

4. Go to Vegas. I get free flights. My girlfriend, Elizabeth, gets free flights too. Another friend of hers called today and said, "Let's go to Vegas." So E calls me to tag along. Do I go? Or stay at home and save money for a new car/dog/whatever?

5. I have a hours guaranteed part time job. I can take off whenever I'd like. I get reimbursed for mileage. I barely get paid minimum wage and the person I work with/for drives me nuts. I am in the process of becoming a substitute teacher. In order to sub, I have to quit/take time off of current part time job. Do I rock the boat? What if I don't get as many hours subbing as I want/need to potentially pay for a dog and/or a new car?

6. Foot surgery. It's needed and my doctor says I need to have it now. Do I take time off work/push back subbing until fall/wait for summer to be cut on? Then it interferes with summer vacation plans. Bob's schedule is anything but easy to work with. We need to coordinate his time at home, plus time for another friend/family member to stay here with me when he does go back to work.

Gah. Balls. Shit. I hate being a grown up.