Saturday Photos

It was a busy week in our household. On Tuesday we got to see Dallas jump out of a perfectly good airplane. Usually we do not get to hang out on the drop zone, this was a special family jump. It would have been more special if we had gotten to jump too but the Army has some silly rules agains that sort of thing.

Instead we saw this.

Dallas is in there somewhere. See if you can pick him out.

I couldn’t either, but it was still fun to watch.

The aircraft made another pass that was almost too close for comfort, but the twinkies loved it.

It was an excellent day.

Today I got to go on a date with one of my favorite guys, John.

We had lunch at a little sandwich place near a soccer store because he wanted some new shoes. If you don’t know about our soccer experiences, you can read all about them here.

On the way in I saw this bumper sticker.

No, I did not see Sarah Palin, but this may have been her car.

Unfortunately the soccer shop was no longer in business. This was ok with John because he hates shopping. Instead, we Googled the shoes and ordered them over lunch. I love the internet. John loves not having to actually go shopping and, “talk to salesmen and stuff.”

I had a reuben, because I always have the reuben. As a reuben connoisseur I have to say that Marty’s New York Bagel Deli in Anchorage makes one that is in my top 5.

After lunch and “shopping” I took John to see Cars 2. By Cars I mean Hangover. Don’t judge, Dallas had already let him see the first one, so what difference does it make?

 

Saturday Photos

June 14th was the Army’s 236th birthday. Happy Birthday Army! Thanks for giving me a reason to get all dressed up.

That guy in the hat is pretty handsome isn’t he? But, that’s not why I love him.

Nope, it’s because he kept me stocked with drinks…

didn’t care that I spent most of the night with these ladies instead of him…

did the Electric Slide…

acted like a fool…

and then passed out on the way home.

Luckily I wasn’t the only one…

HOOAH!!!

Saturday Photos

Today was all about me. Me, me, me. It might have been the best day ever. The day started early with my first race. First race ever. I did a 5 mile race for the Alaska Run For Women to support breast cancer research. I’ve never run 5 miles. If you had told me 3 months ago that I could take part in a 5 mile race and actually finish, much less run the entire thing (with one short potty break) I would have laughed in your face. But thanks to some excellent friends and some hardcore self talk (Like: Keep running you idiot! You can’t run 5 miles? What a sissy!) I made it.

You’ve met Christin before. I know I said she was mean, I stand by that statement. She’s also awesome, thanks for everything. (She is 37 week along and ran 5 miles in 41 minutes! HOOAH!)

Also, thanks to the nice folks at the downtown Anchorage Church of the Nazarene for letting the lady in the pink boa who smelled like urine use the facilities.

Later, after rehydrating and showering I met some of my girls for lunch. There is really nothing like the friendship of women to top off an excellent morning.

The girl in the bottom right does not want to kill you. I promise.

After that we went shopping. I bought these…

I earned them.

Then that we had some more drinks. Also, well deserved.

I think I’ll have a cookie now….

WTF? Wednesday

This is supposed to be a link up with Poppy over at Funny or Snot for a WTF? moment. However, I am technologically illiterate and can’t get the button to work.

Anywho.

My What The Frick? moment for today has to do with this:

To the untrained eye it probably does not look like much. Just some random crap that was left on the floor.

To me it represents the one trait my husband has that makes me want to kill him.

He keeps stuff.

He keeps useless, worthless crap. He keeps it in stupid, inconvenient, and irritating places.

The stuff in this picture is from the sleeping pad that he purchased a month ago. He used the pad when we went backpacking over Memorial Day and then again last week while he was playing Army.

The remnants of the packaging are still on the floor in the corner of our room.

I am 100% positive that he does not even see them. Unless I were to move them, then he would ask me where they were a thousand times until I stopped whatever it was I was doing to get them for him.

He will not pick them up unless I threaten to leave him, or worse, invite my mother to live with us.

I’m slightly neurotic. He knew that when he married me.

Going to bed each night, knowing that crap is still on the floor makes me want to smother him in his sleep.

No jury would convict me.

 

Backpacking With Babies

Dallas and I enjoy backpacking. I don’t get to go as often as I would like because of the twinkies. Instead, I hear stories about all the cool places he and the twins get to see. It makes me angry. So, for the last few months we have talked about making a trip with the twinkies. We weren’t sure how far or even if they could make it out to a good spot. We also knew that the potential for disaster was high. All it took was little misstep and someone could be injured or, at the very least, miserable.

The weather here has been fabulous so we decided to take the plunge and set out yesterday morning. It was not miserable. I think we will even do it again, taking into consideration a few lessons we learned along the way.

Tips For Backpacking With Pre-Schoolers

1. Don’t bother giving them a pack. We set them up with tiny daypacks that carried only their extra clothes and crocs. They dumped them off less than 50 feet into the hike. We had to strap them to our packs. Then they asked for them back every half hour. Luckily we were smart enough not to fall for this trick.

2. Resist the urge to hop across rocks to get your children out to a cool spot for a picture. You could fall in the river, then you will have to spend the rest of the hike in wet boots.

3. Pack candy. We usually pack trail mix, mini bagels with peanut butter, and Clif bars for quick energy. They picked all the M & M’s out of the trail mix and then fought over who ate more. Fun.

4. Understand that the sugar high you gave them to get through the next 1/2 mile will also cause them to crash. Hard. They are like crack addicts that away. Pack a lot of candy.

5. Bring an extra bear vault for their clothes. While you and I might be able to eat rehydrated spaghetti and meat sauce without schmearing it all over our shirts, they can’t. Seriously, we had to put his clothes in the bear vault.

6. Don’t camp too close to any clearing that has a fire ring. You might wind up with loud twenty-something-year-olds parking their drunk butts too close to you in the middle of the night. If this does happen, don’t get out of your tent to yell at them. When you wake up in the morning and see the handgun laying in the middle of their site you’ll be glad you kept your cool.

7. Even though it seems like a good idea to hike out another 1.5 miles to see a lake, don’t do it. At least not on your first venture. You’ll pay for it tomorrow.

8. Geo Cache. Geo caching is a great way to keep the kids moving and interested. They love looking for the “treasures.” Feel free to do a little re-con so you can help them find it without getting frustrated.

9. Half a flask of Southern Comfort is not enough for two adults backpacking with two 4-year-olds.

Neither is a full flask.

10. If you see bear scat that is so fresh it is still steaming, make sure you can outrun your travel companions.

Saturday Photos

It’s officially summer in Alaska. The last week has been, amazing with clear skies and temperatures in the upper 60’s. I even got an above 70 day! It makes this Florida girl’s heart weep with joy.

We took the visiting grandparents for a hike out to Thunderbird Falls.

It’s a must see if you ever get up this way.

Later we went to the Eagle River Nature Center. No bear sightings…

but there were plenty of cool teenagers there.

This is why we put up with the cold and dark winters.

We even had lunch on the deck

As it turns out Jackson is a redneck…

Dallas is trying his hand at trout fishing today.

Too bad all that sexy is going to scare off the fish!

I’m The Law

I like to think that I’m in charge around here. In my mind I tell the children what to do and they fall in line. It’s simple because I’m the mom and I make the rules. I realize that is nowhere near reality. But it’s my fantasy world, don’t ruin it for me.

Today was one of those days when the twinkies acted like caged animals. I will never understand why they insist on running around the house like banshees instead of playing outside. We bought a house with a really big back yard for them. Today was the perfect day to be in it.

Instead, they were climbing on the living room furniture. Running their matchbox cars around the kitchen. Playing in the bathroom sink. Or being loud and irritating in any space where I was trying to hide.

In order to avoid shooting whiskey at one in the afternoon I loaded them on their little bikes, leashed up the stupid dog, and took them to the neighborhood elementary school playground. John even came along so he could play basketball.

Have you ever gone to a park, looked around and though, “hmmm…interesting crowd today?”

Yeah, I had that thought immediately.

John was approached by a young man interested in playing basketball. I think they were playing HORSE. The guy kept chatting John up about basketball players and ridiculous techniques. I found it odd that an adult was having that conversation with a kid. John’s tall, maybe he assumed he was older. The other guy was much older, probably mid-twenties. He had his child there (who he was paying zero attention to, but who am I to judge). He seemed a little shady.

Like a good mom, I kept an eye out.

I was also watching the twinkies. Reese rode his bike all over the courts while Jackson played on the equipment. So I was standing in the middle of it all watching my three boys. I only lasted about 45 minutes. Too many people for me to handle.

On the way home John told me the guy he was playing basketball with was a little weird.

Apparently he said, “That white lady keeps looking at us. I think she was a cop.”

John said, “Dude, that’s my mom.”

So it’s settled. I’m in charge. Now all I need is a badge.

Freaky Friday

This Friday was going to be a busy day and I was ready for it. One of the many hats I wear is being a co-chairperson for the parents’ group that supports our child care centers. There are eight centers on our installation and today was Caregiver Appreciation Day. The parents’ group provided sub sandwiches for lunch while the parents provided desserts, drinks and paper products.

My job was to order all the sandwich platters and deliver them to the centers. I had hoped to have some help with this task, but had none. It was my fault, I made the flyers and neglected to ask for help. I can’t complain, I made my bed so I had to lie in it.

This morning I was also scheduled to go running with my friend Kay. I was not giving that up.

The plan was to get up at 6:30, get showered and put on my running clothes. Usually I don’t shower before I run, because I’m lazy. But, I didn’t want to deliver food all stinky.

At 6:27 Dallas came in the bedroom and said, “Babe, I need you to drive me to work, my bike has a flat tire.”

He recently started riding his bike to work. By recently, I mean he did it once.

He left his truck there so he could drive it during the day. Also, if it gets late or he does not feel like riding home he can just throw the bike in the back.

That killed my first half hour, which is also the only 30 kid-free minutes of my day.

I was determined. I threw some food down for the twinks, got my shower, and put on my running clothes. I loaded water in the van to rehydrate after my run. Then, I dashed them off to school and got home in time to run with Kay. We did a few miles at faster than my normal pace. I was red and sweaty but I felt great.

After that the clock was ticking. It was 9:30 and I had two hours to get the food, deliver it, and make it to pick up the twinkies at pre-school on time.

First stop, the commissary to pick up my 18 sandwich trays. One of the centers sent an employee to pick up their subs. I checked out, and waited for her. She was kind enough to help me get all those platters into the van.

I made two drop offs, thanking the caregivers as I went. I was on a roll. At the third and largest center I noticed there were not enough sandwich trays to cover all the remaining centers. I checked my list and realized that I had counted 18 platters and only ordered 15.

Frick.

The deli at the commissary said they could make them up for me. I headed back there.

The childcare centers could not be any further from the commissary or from each other. There was no way I was going to make it.

I had to call the last center on that side of the base and have them send someone to the commissary to pick up their platters. Terribly embarrassing.

I met her there, paid the tab, and shuffled off.

Two more centers got their food, thank you’s all around. I made it to ours with 10 minutes to spare.

I set up the platters and added my cookies to the table. I had time to chat with some of the other mom’s and dad’s. It was all very pleasant.

I even had time to take a potty break before picking up the twinkies.

It was then that I realized … I had my pants on backward.

Death By Cupcake

Feeding a family this size is a big undertaking. We spend a small fortune on food. In this household we go through about 7 gallons a milk a week. We also power through an average of four loaves of bread, two dozen eggs, three boxes of cereal, and one jar of peanut butter. That’s just the basics.

Food is important. When we travel I have to carefully plan out meals and snacks so that no one is hungry. I don’t care so much if my family is a little hungry. I care that when they are hungry they are grumpy. All of them, including Dallas.

He’s probably the worst one. If he is hungry, watch out. He’s a monster. I don’t know how he made it through Ranger school. If I was in the class with him I probably would have tripped him on a march so that he broke a bone. That way I would not have had to deal with his hungry, grumpy self.

His sister Autumn gets grumpy-hungry too. She’s female though, so she’s smart enough to understand her faults and deal with them like a grown-up. She packs her own snacks.

I pack snacks for Dallas.

And my other kids.

I cook a lot. It’s fine, I like cooking. Cooking is one of the things that I can always do to help out friends. Have a baby? I’ll make you a meal. Surgery? Here comes a baked ziti. Potluck? I’ll make an entrée and a dessert. I can cook in my own house, no extra childcare needed. Done.

I have to do nice things, otherwise no one would put up with me.

Yesterday I made cupcakes for a meeting. I put them in the freezer overnight.

The YOU in this note refers to Dallas.

The kids know to ask, “Are these cupcakes for us?”

The answer would have been, “No, but I’ll bring you leftovers.”

Seriously, he would have eaten six. At least. They were really good cupcakes. And of course, he would have been STARVING. Kind of like how when he is sick he is DYING. He’s never just hungry, he’s on the verge of third world starvation.

If he had eaten them I would have jammed one all the way down his esophagus while he slept.

Death by cupcake. I can’t think of a better way for him to go.

Running Sucks

No joke. Running sucks. I hate it. I hate how I look doing it. I hate doing it. I hate everything about it. I hate the cute jogger moms and dads with their little strollers and skinny thighs. I hate the bulky guys who run with no shirts on in the summer. I hate the bulky guys who run with only a sweatshirt on in the dead of winter. I hate the people who are in training for some big stupid race. I hate the people who run just for fun, as if anything about running is fun. I hate it.

Obviously, I should take up running.

I started running, indoors-on-a-treadmill-at-the-gym a few years ago. After I had the twinkies I was fat. FAT. A big fat, fatty. For real. I have photographic evidence, but I’m not sharing it with you. I went on Weight Watchers and bought a membership to the Y. It worked. I lost 30 lbs and was back to well beyond my pre-babies weight. I was thinner than I had been since high school. It made me very happy.

Then we moved to this God-forsaken place and I gained 5 pounds almost immediately. Stupid Alaska.

A month or so ago I ordered some lotion from another mom, Kay, at the twins school. Kay is a runner. I told her that I wanted to start running more. Running outside. Maybe even do a race.

I was just making polite conversation.

I fantasize about running like a fantasize about writing a book. Good thoughts, zero action.

Would you believe that broad took me up on it? Last week she MADE me run 3 miles with her. She only let me walk about half a block too. Geez…

Ironically, it felt good. And I felt good. I think I even lost a few ounces. (I know this because I weigh in every 30 seconds.)

Last week I was chatting with another runner “friend” and we talked about getting together on her day off. I must have been drunk or something because the next thing I knew I was sending an email suggesting we go running Wednesday morning around a 4 mile path on post. I’ve walked it. I’ve run 3 miles. I figured I could hack it.

When I saw my “friend” again on Saturday she informed me that there would be no walking. She also informed me that she runs slow because she is pregnant. (sidebar-I would never have asked to go running with her if she were not pregnant. I would not be able to keep up.) I told her my average pace is a 10 minute mile. Apparently, that is her slow.

I hardly slept last night worried that my pregnant “friend” was going to have to drag me home from the trail.

This is Christin, she took 3rd place at our Just Dance competition last week. She looks really nice in this photo, but don’t let it fool you. She’s mean. Pregnant and mean. And 25 years old. Well, she might be older than that but it makes me feel better to think she’s 11 years younger than me, so I’m going with it.

She actually showed up this morning all ready to run. She did let me walk a few times, when I stopped breathing. (In my defense it was cold, I’m sure it was the cold that did it to me) Until the end, then she made me keep running when I wanted to stop. Jerk. Way to wait until I was worn out. She’s mean like that.

When we were done she said, “thanks for the walk.” Walk? Screw you meanie!

In truth, I appreciate it. I need the motivation. Left to my own devices I would sit on the couch all day watching Bravo, eating Reese’s peanut butter cups, and drinking wine. I would also have an arse the size or Rhode Island. So thanks to Kay and Christin. But, I still think you’re mean.

I’m walking tomorrow with the ladies from my Arse Reduction Club. Walking I don’t mind, running sucks.

But, I’m doing it. I’m running. I’m registering for a race that I have no chance of placing in. I just want to do it. I also want to be skinny. So I’m eating stupid oranges and running. Life sucks.

Also, not to make a big deal of it or anything. But I totally stomped Christin at the Just Dance competition. So there.