Thankful Thursday. Again.

I never get tired of finding reasons to be grateful for the things that I have in my life. I forget, very often, how lucky I am. I don't fault myself for forgetting. It's easy to overlook all of the good when you are running around after your kids, trying to keep the bills straight, running to lose weight, doing laundry, doing dishes, putting food on the table, cleaning up after pets, doing homework, and trying to have a little bit of fun. That's a lot of responsibility.

I have to make to-do lists in order to keep it all straight. If I don't write appointments on my calendar, I won't make it to them because I simply cannot remember everything that I have going on. Another problem that i have is that if I don't receive a paper bill for something, I won't pay it. I would love to be all green and eco-friendly, but I need those little pieces of paper to remind me to pay for things.

Sometimes, I feel like it is hopeless. Tonight, I was sitting at my dinner table alone eating a meal that I didn't really like (too spicy) and thinking about everything that didn't get done today (new light bulb in the kitchen, skipped my workout because my knees hurt) and everything that I have to get done tomorrow (won't even go there). Then I started thinking about how fun my weekend was going to be, but how that fun comes with chaos and I just need a freaking break. I was mentally ticking off a list of things that I have going on and need to get done before the end of the month and I was getting more and more depressed about how lonely and isolated I feel. Then, like a bolt of lightening, my grandmother flashed into my mind.

My grandma is one of the greatest blessings of my life. I could go on and on about why I love her, but I won't do that here. What I will say is this: my grandmother has Alzheimer's disease. The person whose eightieth birthday we celebrated a couple of years ago is gone. She is skin and bone. She doesn't remember my kids. She forgets to eat. Her once immaculate home is dirty. She yells at my mother for reminding her to take her pills. She mutters to herself and her face twitches as she sits and stares at the television. She isn't really seeing what's happening, she's just trying to understand the world around her.

My grandma still makes to-do lists, the problem is that then she reads them and only becomes more confused. She doesn't remember exactly what the little notations mean or she loses the entire list in the massive pile of mail that she refuses to let anyone dispose of. If I think that I am overwhelmed and lonely and that the only person who cares about me is across an ocean, I should probably think again. My feelings are valid, but at least I can process them. At least I am here and now and I know what's going on. I can't imagine the loneliness and the overwhelming feelings that are associated with memory loss.

The thought of my grandmother humbled me today. She's amazing, she doesn't deserve this. I'm so, wonderfully, painfully alive. I am making memories both good and bad. I am present and I need to remember that. No matter how many things don't go as I have planned them, no matter how often I allow myself to feel let down, no matter what reality I am perceiving, I should always remember that I'm lucky, I am blessed, and I will overcome.

Oh! What a Busy Life!

Here I was thinking, "Molly- just count down to Christmas break. Then you can do crafts with the kids and take it easy!" Little did I know that I am a naive, optimist. I already have a to-do list a mile long for Christmas break, and it includes getting Elvish and assembling all kinds of things that I know are beyond my capacity to assemble. And this week before the break? Forget it. I am so busy that I feel like my head is swimming in circles while I look on helplessly from the outside. Who would have thought that my last fifteen credit hours as an undergrad would be so draining?

The last week has not come without a new set of lessons. Life without Dave brings at least one per day and not all of them are the fun kind. In the past week I have learned:

1. The cat, along with three medium sized stuffed animals, can fit into a toddler sized Buzz Lightyear suitcase. However, he will pee himself from fright and be close to expiring by the time that you find him. Salvaging the suitcase and stuffed toys will be pointless. Also- I have good instincts and I should follow them. I am still not sure what prompted me to open that suitcase.

2. Herman Melville is an asshat. He was an asshat when I was in high school, reading Moby Dick and he is still an asshat years later when I have to read his "short" stories for my elective literature course. He's also talentless and overrated.

3. Dogs and cats poop a lot. Pet ownership is a lot less awesome when you have to clean up after the pets without any help and while your child is flushing Captain America down the toilet inside.

4. Swallowing the SCOBY when drinking Kombucha is awful. Absolutely terrible.

5. Three-year-olds are amazing snugglers. They also smell really nice and give the best kisses. They know just when to tell you the right things.

6. My kids are the most annoying beings on the planet, but I like them better than I like anyone else on the planet.

7. Skype was clearly created by God. It also does not use the internet, my husband's images (though blurry) and his voice (though cracking) are streamed to me on the wings of angels.

8. Rio is a really cute movie, but only the first twelve times in three days. After that, the songs start to get a little annoying.

9. Friends are never overrated, and some times you meet the most important ones in adulthood.

10. There is not enough coffee and Zoloft in the world to get me through the next six months. I may have to invest in some Red Bull, Speed, or a medically induced coma.

As I look forward to the end of this week and the beginning of Christmas break, I realize that I am doing worse in my head than I am in real life. Rock on, Molly B., Rock on.

I leave you with a picture of myself, moments after I accidentally swallowed the SCOBY.

More Lessons.

I think that it is truly amazing where life takes you and which sets of plans don't work out and which do. In 2003, I had been accepted to three different colleges and I was trying to pick one. In 2004, I was going to my local community college and living in the ghetto. In 2005, I was pregnant. In 2006, I fell in love. In 2007, I was pregnant again. In 2008, I suddenly found myself in Washington State with my husband. Now, here I sit in 2011 (albeit, the end). My husband is over seas. He won't be back for several months. I had another baby ten months ago. I am less than six months from finally finishing college, after a lot of obstacles and breaks. We are less than a year from ending our association with the Navy. We plan on staying in Washington. My husband has decided that he is going to go to school for a second bachelor's degree, in music. Life has led us in such an interesting direction, that sometimes I just have to stop and shake my head. I love where I am right now, but that doesn't mean that there aren't some things that I would change.

In the last six days, I have learned that best-laid plans are for the birds. No matter what, something will always come up that changes the name of the game. Today, the book store was closed and I was unable to pick up some books that my three-year-old ordered on his school field trip. It was small, but it was still a part of my plan for the day and it was still a change. When it comes to deployment, nothing is certain. I am less than a week in and I have already learned that. I expected my washing machine to be exploding and my children to be running rampant. Instead, my trashcan broke and they are having trouble sleeping. Nothing is ever the way that you plan it to be. Here are some lessons I have learned so far:

1. You will get the one person at the NEX who doesn't comprehend "fade" when you take your little boy in for a haircut. You will also need to know certain numbers for a fade, otherwise it will barely look like a haircut at all.

2. Recordable books are really annoying in the hands of a child who doesn't use them correctly.

3. Porcelain trash cans can suddenly and inexplicably break into two pieces.

4. Your support network can change at any given moment, in the Navy world people are not the most reliable thing.

5. A ten month old who suddenly starts rejecting food will go back to having seedy, breastfed baby poop but they will have more of it and it will explode all over everything.

6. Grocery shopping is not so bad when you do it completely alone.

7. Skype freezes a lot and always when you are making a weird face.

8. Skyping on a laptop while in bed creates a really unflattering angle, which also adds ten pounds.

9. Dogs get weirdly territorial and overprotective when they sense a major change.

10. Cat boxes are absolutely disgusting and cats are foul, filthy little buggers.

That is all for today. Good night. I shall leave you with a picture from the unflattering Skype angle.

The Weekend and the Store.

Weekends with a deployed spouse are the pits. Everyone else is using the time as their major family time for the week, which means that you either impede and tag along or spend the weekend alone.

I am entering into my first weekend without my husband at home. I have a lot on my schedule in an attempt to keep myself busy. I have a Dove Chocolate party today. I became a consultant a little over a month ago, with the sole intent of giving myself something to do while he's gone. Not that kids, housework, running, and school wouldn't keep me busy enough. I just felt like it would be nice to have something else going on for me.

Then tomorrow I am hosting a coffee date for some others who have deployed husbands. I am very much looking forward to getting to know them and hopefully having a good network going for the next few months. After they leave, I am going to go to the grocery store. That's usually Dave's job and I am not looking forward to it.

The grocery store gives me major anxiety. I deal with very severe depression. I have social anxiety coming out of my ears. I have a really tough time in small groups where I don't know everyone or in large groups period. I also diagnosed myself as agoraphobic a couple of years ago and the grocery store triggers that. I hate the fluorescent lights and all of the strangers. When I add screaming, whining, wiggling kids into the equation I start to really panic. My vision gets blurry and I have a hard time focusing. I usually am actually dripping sweat by the time I check out at the register.

Then, when I get home, I have to juggle fussy kids with the fact that the groceries need to get put away. Also, I can't stand to leave them out because I hate messes and clutter. After that, I have to settle the kids after the whole ordeal and by the end of it I usually feel totally defeated and emotionally exhausted. Then it triggers my depression and I get bummed out about what a basket case I am.

That may seem like a lot of writing just to describe a simple trip to the store, but it's my truth. The fact is that going to the grocery store is necessary. I am going to have to do it. Even if I am lucky enough to find a sitter once or twice, I am definitely not going to have one every time I need to go. This is one of my anxieties that I am going to simply HAVE to get past before my husband returns.

Wish me luck, and pray that the canned goods don't attack me.

Things I Have Already Learned.

Yesterday was the beginning of a new journey for me. My husband left on his first deployment. This is the first time since he was in boot camp that we will be separated for more than a month or so. He will miss all of our birthdays, Christmas, our anniversary, and my college graduation. I know that it isn't going to be easy, but I am very determined to face it with a smile and a positive attitude. I am looking forward to becoming more independent and bonding with my elder son, who's a major daddy's boy. It has only been twenty-four hours, but I have already learned quite a bit.

1. There are concrete barriers on base that are short enough to not appear in the rear view mirror.
2. Dogs relish the opportunity to try and claim your bed as their own when they notice extra space.
3. My three-year-old is perfectly capable of holding a long, meaningful conversation on the phone.
4. My mom is awesome, sometimes.
5. Bananas are a wonderful breakfast for a self-feeding baby who has the trots.
6. Deployed husbands mean no more breakfast in bed for me.

and 7. I fall asleep at 9:30 with no one to keep me entertained.

I know that in the coming months, the list of things that I will learn will only grow longer. Some of the things that I learn will be funny, others will be frustrating, and there might even be some sadness. The important part, however, is that I will be learning. No matter how old I am, I relish any opportunity to better myself and learn more.

I am so pretty.

I spent almost five years thinking that I was disgusting. I lived in my sweats, because I was afraid to admit what size I was and buy clothes that fit me. In the past 8 months, I have worked really hard to change that. My hard work has paid off and I am about eight sizes smaller than I was when I started and I am almost sixty pounds lighter. I am so fucking pretty, I could die.

I live in a world that is full of skinny girls, fashion statements, and materialism. There is way too much focus on physical self and it's hard for someone like me to feel good about myself because of it. I am average. I am not a super model. I am normal. But today, I feel so fucking pretty that I could just die.

I spend most of the day in bed because I have a cold. I didn't run today, which I usually do. I didn't put on any makeup and my hair is in a pony tail. I did brush my teeth, but I didn't get dressed. It doesn't matter though, because I feel absolutely gorgeous.

I spend so long feeling badly about myself that even now, when I know that I look good and I know that my body has changed, I still look in the mirror sometimes and feel gross. Sometimes I still see a fat girl because my stomach isn't tight and I don't have a six-pack. Sometimes, all I see in the mirror are the flaws that I have lived with for twenty-five years. I know them all in and out, but today I don't want to dwell on them. Today, I looked in the mirror and realized that I am really fucking pretty.

I have a really great head of hair. It's thick and curly and shiny, and I love it. I have a nose that fits really well on my face and I have a huge smile, with relatively nice teeth. My eyes are an interesting shade of brown and I have a great set of eyebrows. I'm a good height, not too tall and not to short. Right now, my body is a great shape. I'm relatively slender but I haven't lost my curves.

I woke up this morning really liking myself. I hope that I wake up feeling that way tomorrow. I hope, even more, that someone will read this and wake up in the morning feeling really, ridiculously, insanely pretty.

I love blogging when it's still dark out.

I woke up this morning around three with a headache that I attribute to TMJ and drinking five beers in order to stop thinking about my throbbing toe. I took some Advil and drank some water and then I went back to sleep. I woke up again at five because my baby was crying in his crib. Upon further inspection, I realized that the fever he has had for three days is the highest it's been and he is miserable.

I nursed him, loved on him, gave him some infant Advil, and then put him back to sleep. Now I am sitting here writing this and the only thing that comes to mind to write about is how powerless motherhood has left me feeling. Here I sit, this person who is all full of opinions and ideas and convictions and none of them can make my baby feel better.

All of my really strong opinions about fever reducers, vaccines, antibiotics, and illness come into question when my own baby is sick. It's a lot easier to tell someone else what to do than to do it myself. I am all about not over-medicating my children, letting fevers do what nature intended them for, and letting them build up natural immunities. But that game changes when my smiling, laughing, sweet boy has been reduced to a fussy mess with a head so hot that I can barely stand to touch it.

Today is day three of Puff's fever and I cracked. I gave him a fever reducer because I can't stand to see him miserable any longer. I compromised with myself because I love my baby boy so much. Motherhood has made me powerless. It has turned me into a mushy puddle of love that has a mind telling her one thing and a heart telling her another.

Darn these kids for being so captivating.