I joined Weight Watchers online. I have been struggling to eat like my dietician instructed since breakfast, lunch and I are only minimally acquainted. She told me to increase my food intake earlier in the day so I don't get ravenous by dinner time. So I said "ok" and started to eat a slice of toast and a couple of eggs every day. It got soooo old. Especially since I'm so lazy about lunch, getting sandwiches and fruit for the whelp but turning my nose up at the same for myself. I started to turn to canned soup to get something in my belly, but those efforts still left me starving by evening.
I finally decided to begin from the basics. Please, oh Great Weight Watchers where old ladies yammer on about points and brownies and guilt, tell me how to feed myself that I may have relatively even blood sugar, yea verily even blood sugar that will keep me in good temper and good health.
I figured online was a better way to go given that events like this with a strong social element tend to get very old for me. And I was stunned to find that I am terrible at feeding myself.
I mean, I knew I didn't feed myself. But this was stunning.
I decided from the outset to evenly distribute my points across the whole day, just like the nutritionist prescribed. That first morning I ate jicama, eggs, and toast and typed it into the program. It was only 6 points out of 49. Then I added an orange, a string cheese, and finally half of an avocado. I was stuffed and I moaned about what I was going to do about lunch.
Lunch was another orange, a burger without the bun, almonds and olives. Once again, I was full. Dinner was chili, almonds, and a slice of sugar free cake.
I wasn't hungry one single time all day long.
This trend has continued for the last two and a half weeks. The only time I've been hungry was the day Man and I ran errands and I forgot to eat lunch. I had no idea that learning how to eat appropriately didn't involve being hungry. I was hungry through all of high school and it made me thin. Is it a shock that, 4 babies and several bouts with depression later, I've got some extra weight?
Total weightloss so far is 3 pounds, which is appropriate for two weeks of measuring. I've stepped up gym time as well since I have so much gosh darned energy. I'm more patient with the kids now that my insulin resistance isn't ruling my moods as much. WW even reminds me to take my multi and drink bunches of water, and to include plenty of veggies and fruits and good oils in my diet. Who knew? I might even learn how to style my hair after this triumph of personal care.
Now on to yogurt. This lady has a new recipe on her blog for homemade yogurt. I've looked through lots of resources that describe yogurt making machines and other horrifying measures to make what's essentially milk riddled with tons of bacteria. This new recipe involves nothing more fancy than a crockpot and a bit of your time, and it uses powdered milk. A lot of people who store powdered milk don't know what to do with the stuff besides bake with it. I've managed to expand my use into breakfast breads (eg pancakes and French toast), hot cocoa mix, and smoothies. This new application uses two quarts of reconstituted milk, plus more powder for extra milk solids (which is about a scant 3 cups of non-instant powder).
I started the yogurt last night so it could do its voodoo whilst I slept so I wouldn't peek at it every half an hour to make sure crazy things weren't happening in there. I thought about hitting snooze three times like normal but then remembered my shrouded crockpot in the kitchen. I ran on over and stabbed at the smooth white surface in my crockpot with a spoon and heavens to Betsy there was yogurt in there! It even tastes like yogurt! And I'm not sick yet from sampling it! It's now chilling in my fridge, a semi-solid quivering mass of milky-white pro-biotic goodness, just waiting for whatever the heck I'm going to do with two quarts of the stuff. I think it's going to have to be naan, and.... I dunno. I'll think of something.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Hair cut
F: Mom! I want to play a game on the tee-bee!
Me: No, honey, you have great toys! Go play.
F: Noooooo!!!
[Wailing, sadness, distress]
So then I went to go pick up her sister and friend (same person) from Pre-K.
Pebbles: Mom, I want to play a game on the tv.
Me: No, you have great toys. Go play.
Pebbles: [thoughtful look and a grin] Ok!
Results? Behold:
I forgot to take a before picture but it was bad. Her bangs were almost buzzed, the whole left side was chopped to bits. I took her in today to get it cleaned up and we first went with an asymmetrical bob but then it looked more like a mistake than fashion on a 3 year old. So we went with a traditional pixie. It was a bit shocking at first but it's really growing on me and it makes her big eyes look even bigger. So we went out and got some sparkly headbands, some with butterflies, to up the girlie quotient on that haircut.
Favorite quote comes from Tag: Wow, I think it's beautiful like Aunt Cheryl's hair.
That melted my heart right there.
Me: No, honey, you have great toys! Go play.
F: Noooooo!!!
[Wailing, sadness, distress]
So then I went to go pick up her sister and friend (same person) from Pre-K.
Pebbles: Mom, I want to play a game on the tv.
Me: No, you have great toys. Go play.
Pebbles: [thoughtful look and a grin] Ok!
Results? Behold:
I forgot to take a before picture but it was bad. Her bangs were almost buzzed, the whole left side was chopped to bits. I took her in today to get it cleaned up and we first went with an asymmetrical bob but then it looked more like a mistake than fashion on a 3 year old. So we went with a traditional pixie. It was a bit shocking at first but it's really growing on me and it makes her big eyes look even bigger. So we went out and got some sparkly headbands, some with butterflies, to up the girlie quotient on that haircut.
Favorite quote comes from Tag: Wow, I think it's beautiful like Aunt Cheryl's hair.
That melted my heart right there.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Testing out screen shots
So, I'm way behind on tech savvy sorts of things. So I'm playing with screen shots today.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Guess who's getting promoted!
On the last day before he's retired, Man will be promoted to Sergeant! Woohoo!!
It's complicated, but because of the nature of his retirement he could eventually be reactivated but that's only if the stuff that's getting him retired resolves before Oct of 2014.
Sergeant H. He's already bought his rank patch. :D
It's complicated, but because of the nature of his retirement he could eventually be reactivated but that's only if the stuff that's getting him retired resolves before Oct of 2014.
Sergeant H. He's already bought his rank patch. :D
Monday, March 21, 2011
Fridge scrapple
Scrapple is the most questionable delight of the Pennsylvania Dutch, boiled up from "everything but the oink," mixed into a congealed loaf, and pan fried to perfection.
We've been keeping our fridge and freezer so low on food over the past few weeks that I've started calling our meals "fridge scrapple" in honor of the oink my kids make when presented with our creative fare.
An example:
Rice-a-roni (Man just had to buy two cases of the stuff at a caselot sale), 2 salmon patties, 1 fillet of tilapia, steamed cauliflower from the freezer.
Odds and ends of chicken (one breast, two breast tenderloins, two boneless thighs, one bone in thigh) cooked in the last of the bbq sauce, the remainder of our instant potato flakes, and steamed brussels sprouts from the freezer.
Steaks, roasted potatoes (the last three slightly shriveled spuds), cut up apples, steamed peas and corn from the freezer.
Breakfast one day was the last bagel, three eggs, the last two servings of Malt-o-Meal, banana chips, and two frozen turkey sausages.
Oink.
We've been keeping our fridge and freezer so low on food over the past few weeks that I've started calling our meals "fridge scrapple" in honor of the oink my kids make when presented with our creative fare.
An example:
Rice-a-roni (Man just had to buy two cases of the stuff at a caselot sale), 2 salmon patties, 1 fillet of tilapia, steamed cauliflower from the freezer.
Odds and ends of chicken (one breast, two breast tenderloins, two boneless thighs, one bone in thigh) cooked in the last of the bbq sauce, the remainder of our instant potato flakes, and steamed brussels sprouts from the freezer.
Steaks, roasted potatoes (the last three slightly shriveled spuds), cut up apples, steamed peas and corn from the freezer.
Breakfast one day was the last bagel, three eggs, the last two servings of Malt-o-Meal, banana chips, and two frozen turkey sausages.
Oink.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Why do I do things which infuriate me?
I've long wanted to make my own reusable sandwich wraps. It just seems silly to throw out a perfectly good plastic bag when I'm too lazy to wash the poor thing. Buying them on Etsy is pretty expensive ($10 per) and it looks like a fairly straightforward project with my favorite sort of straight lines.
Then, one day, I found this sandwich bag pattern: Baggie o' dreams.
What a great idea! It works just like those old baggies with the top that gets a flap folded in and then *whoosh!* you flip a pocket over the top and it's a delightful little leaky package. The lines were so clean and the fabric looked so nice that I had to give it a try.
I used the fabric I had on hand and a freezer bag from the drawer and went to town.
Here are my results:
Do yourself a favor and don't click on those photos. They're garbage because it's 1am here and I'm too tired to rig lights.
Laying flat:
Sandwich bag insides:
I measured everything with exact precision. I measured backward, forward, examined the instructions until even I, in my OCD perfectaplegic torment was satisfied that I had done it right. When the *whoosh!* flippy pocket got folded I realized that my sandwich would be more along the lines of peasant panini roadkill instead of fluffy goodness:
There was sadness, anger, and a Google search as follows: the whole thread thingy fell off of my Brother sewing machine.
Which, oddly, led me precisely to the answer I needed. Go figure. One crazy tiny allen wrench, thirty swearing minutes, and thankfully no broken needles later, I was able to finish my pathetic prize. Yah. Saving the Earth one screwed up project at a time.
But no. I was in peachcot mode and I wasn't letting this one go without a fight. So I researched. I researched materials (nylon is agreed to be the best plastic for food purposes, saving mylar's presence which I don't have. I guess I could have sacrificed for the peachcots and bought a bag of Doritoes just for its mylar but whatever) and patterns and applications and care instructions until my eyes literally crossed.
I get emails from this great website called Tipnut. Here's what they say about lunch bags and accessories.
Down in accessories, I saw #4 and knew that simplicity was what had to happen after I came this close to throwing my machine into the street. Once again, I'm being literal. Into. The. Street. (there are some potholes in front of my house)
I liked the idea but I wanted something that would at least attempt to keep juicy tomatoes to themselves.
Behold, my creation:
(repeat above disclaimer about garbage pics)
Flat with the pretty side up: I happen to love colorful daisies. Not those insipid white chaps.
The inside:
Three slices of bread, middle slice representing the cornucopia of options for sandwich fillings.
Sides folded in:
Bottom side folded up to showcase the strip of velcro (hook and pile fasteners, sorry) that help the whole thing adjust capacity:
And voila:
Work those angles, baby:
Here was the process: Iron some Stitch Witchery onto nylon rip stop. Which sucked because the adhesive seemed to soak right through the nylon. Which kind of defeats the point of using pure cotton and neutral nylon if you're just going to get cancer from the adhesive after all. Anyway, the adhesive soaked through which clung to the red cotton I used under the whole thing "just in case" (go me). You can see some of the red spots on the solid blue side. I'll have to figure that one out. Maybe iron with parchment paper underneath. And yes I tried ironing plain old nylon and, though it became misshapen on the cotton setting, it didn't melt on its own. It's definitely the interfacing.
Anyway, peel off the paper backing and then iron the rip stop onto the wrong side of your cotton. I went ahead and stitched around the edges (bead stitch) just because I don't trust things that look sturdy enough as they are (big girls never do). The velcro is in an experimental arrangement with which I'm not entirely happy.
But it'll do. And now my obsession can wane long enough for me to go back to the store and get more interfacing.
Oh, it measures 18" and I trimmed the corners off since they didn't seem necessary. The wrap doubles as a place mat. I'm going to fiddle with the whole thing some more and see if I can come up with something with which I'm really happy, and that process should net us enough wraps to have a picnic at the very least.
This rotten project has kept me up until well after pumpkin hour for me, but season 7 of Scrubs kept me company.
As painful as the whole thing has been, I still feel triumphant that I didn't spend $10 on the mat now on my dreadfully abused dining table. I can see how one might be able to "whip out" such projects after one can swiftly and with ease fix their sewing machine when the needle thingy comes loose or when one finally realizes that it's better to just buy the bolt of Stitch Witchery instead of running out after one and a half projects. Maybe, one of these days, I might try to make an article of clothing once more. Hah! I made a funny.
Holy crap I need sleep. Have a good weekend, people.
Then, one day, I found this sandwich bag pattern: Baggie o' dreams.
What a great idea! It works just like those old baggies with the top that gets a flap folded in and then *whoosh!* you flip a pocket over the top and it's a delightful little leaky package. The lines were so clean and the fabric looked so nice that I had to give it a try.
I used the fabric I had on hand and a freezer bag from the drawer and went to town.
Here are my results:
Do yourself a favor and don't click on those photos. They're garbage because it's 1am here and I'm too tired to rig lights.
Laying flat:
Sandwich bag insides:
I measured everything with exact precision. I measured backward, forward, examined the instructions until even I, in my OCD perfectaplegic torment was satisfied that I had done it right. When the *whoosh!* flippy pocket got folded I realized that my sandwich would be more along the lines of peasant panini roadkill instead of fluffy goodness:
There was sadness, anger, and a Google search as follows: the whole thread thingy fell off of my Brother sewing machine.
Which, oddly, led me precisely to the answer I needed. Go figure. One crazy tiny allen wrench, thirty swearing minutes, and thankfully no broken needles later, I was able to finish my pathetic prize. Yah. Saving the Earth one screwed up project at a time.
But no. I was in peachcot mode and I wasn't letting this one go without a fight. So I researched. I researched materials (nylon is agreed to be the best plastic for food purposes, saving mylar's presence which I don't have. I guess I could have sacrificed for the peachcots and bought a bag of Doritoes just for its mylar but whatever) and patterns and applications and care instructions until my eyes literally crossed.
I get emails from this great website called Tipnut. Here's what they say about lunch bags and accessories.
Down in accessories, I saw #4 and knew that simplicity was what had to happen after I came this close to throwing my machine into the street. Once again, I'm being literal. Into. The. Street. (there are some potholes in front of my house)
I liked the idea but I wanted something that would at least attempt to keep juicy tomatoes to themselves.
Behold, my creation:
(repeat above disclaimer about garbage pics)
Flat with the pretty side up: I happen to love colorful daisies. Not those insipid white chaps.
The inside:
Three slices of bread, middle slice representing the cornucopia of options for sandwich fillings.
Sides folded in:
Bottom side folded up to showcase the strip of velcro (hook and pile fasteners, sorry) that help the whole thing adjust capacity:
And voila:
Work those angles, baby:
Here was the process: Iron some Stitch Witchery onto nylon rip stop. Which sucked because the adhesive seemed to soak right through the nylon. Which kind of defeats the point of using pure cotton and neutral nylon if you're just going to get cancer from the adhesive after all. Anyway, the adhesive soaked through which clung to the red cotton I used under the whole thing "just in case" (go me). You can see some of the red spots on the solid blue side. I'll have to figure that one out. Maybe iron with parchment paper underneath. And yes I tried ironing plain old nylon and, though it became misshapen on the cotton setting, it didn't melt on its own. It's definitely the interfacing.
Anyway, peel off the paper backing and then iron the rip stop onto the wrong side of your cotton. I went ahead and stitched around the edges (bead stitch) just because I don't trust things that look sturdy enough as they are (big girls never do). The velcro is in an experimental arrangement with which I'm not entirely happy.
But it'll do. And now my obsession can wane long enough for me to go back to the store and get more interfacing.
Oh, it measures 18" and I trimmed the corners off since they didn't seem necessary. The wrap doubles as a place mat. I'm going to fiddle with the whole thing some more and see if I can come up with something with which I'm really happy, and that process should net us enough wraps to have a picnic at the very least.
This rotten project has kept me up until well after pumpkin hour for me, but season 7 of Scrubs kept me company.
As painful as the whole thing has been, I still feel triumphant that I didn't spend $10 on the mat now on my dreadfully abused dining table. I can see how one might be able to "whip out" such projects after one can swiftly and with ease fix their sewing machine when the needle thingy comes loose or when one finally realizes that it's better to just buy the bolt of Stitch Witchery instead of running out after one and a half projects. Maybe, one of these days, I might try to make an article of clothing once more. Hah! I made a funny.
Holy crap I need sleep. Have a good weekend, people.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
New story
I'm finally working on a new story.
Yes, it's a story. A fantasy. A long spinning tale that uses an entire book to make a few interesting points.
And yes, the grammar will suck until I get Brian to look over it. Hah!
So I ask you: do names in a fantasy book have to be weird? If you've ever heard of one of the names in a fantasy book (ie Amos, Tomas, or Pug from Riftwar, or Barak from Belgariad) does that diminish the experience for you?
Fantasy people are supposed to be speaking in languages we've never before conceived and yet we can come up with word play and jokes and oh-have-mercy PUNS that work in our language and never could in theirs and yet... we suspend skepticism of such things because we like it when fantasy characters speak English. We can't exactly use subtitles through the whole book, can we? It'd get tedious.
So, tell me in a comment. I want to know if you like names that are strange yet eerily familiar (Calin, Macros, Borric, Rincewind etc), the totaly bizaare (Gandalf, Bilbo, Xanthura, Zanados, etc) or the nice and mundane?
It seems to me that a weird name is the one concession that fantasy authors make concerning the not-so-obvious language barrier. Odd beasts, fantastic realms of demons, armor that is logistically hopeless, and "why do they say that the door is a jar? That's just absurd!" In another language the nuance would be completely lost but I'm sure it'd still get a groan just because the guy with that line will most certainly have had one like it before.
If we go with eerily familiar, I may just name someone Pickle. After all, parents sometimes name their kids after virtues, and in fantasy books we often find agrarian societies where the preservation of food is the greatest virtue of survival.
Once again, it's too late and my brain is still half in fantasy land. Good night!
Yes, it's a story. A fantasy. A long spinning tale that uses an entire book to make a few interesting points.
And yes, the grammar will suck until I get Brian to look over it. Hah!
So I ask you: do names in a fantasy book have to be weird? If you've ever heard of one of the names in a fantasy book (ie Amos, Tomas, or Pug from Riftwar, or Barak from Belgariad) does that diminish the experience for you?
Fantasy people are supposed to be speaking in languages we've never before conceived and yet we can come up with word play and jokes and oh-have-mercy PUNS that work in our language and never could in theirs and yet... we suspend skepticism of such things because we like it when fantasy characters speak English. We can't exactly use subtitles through the whole book, can we? It'd get tedious.
So, tell me in a comment. I want to know if you like names that are strange yet eerily familiar (Calin, Macros, Borric, Rincewind etc), the totaly bizaare (Gandalf, Bilbo, Xanthura, Zanados, etc) or the nice and mundane?
It seems to me that a weird name is the one concession that fantasy authors make concerning the not-so-obvious language barrier. Odd beasts, fantastic realms of demons, armor that is logistically hopeless, and "why do they say that the door is a jar? That's just absurd!" In another language the nuance would be completely lost but I'm sure it'd still get a groan just because the guy with that line will most certainly have had one like it before.
If we go with eerily familiar, I may just name someone Pickle. After all, parents sometimes name their kids after virtues, and in fantasy books we often find agrarian societies where the preservation of food is the greatest virtue of survival.
Once again, it's too late and my brain is still half in fantasy land. Good night!
Friday, March 11, 2011
Aaaaaaaand psych
The short version is this: it turns out that everything has been delayed by a month.
Someone accidentally wrote down the wrong date somewhere in the orders process and they just went with it. So, instead of Man's retirement date being June 20th, it's now July 21st and everything is getting rearranged accordingly.
This morning, after learning of a potential Monday move, we industriously gave away the larger items we needed to find homes for, sent notes to the school, etc. Sorry everyone! False alarm. Thank goodness we don't have to worry about those larger items anymore.
I'll keep everyone apprised as things progress. Maybe, one of these days, we'll actually move.
Someone accidentally wrote down the wrong date somewhere in the orders process and they just went with it. So, instead of Man's retirement date being June 20th, it's now July 21st and everything is getting rearranged accordingly.
This morning, after learning of a potential Monday move, we industriously gave away the larger items we needed to find homes for, sent notes to the school, etc. Sorry everyone! False alarm. Thank goodness we don't have to worry about those larger items anymore.
I'll keep everyone apprised as things progress. Maybe, one of these days, we'll actually move.
Further updates
Man talked to his sergeant this morning. Sgt is trying to get the transportation office to move us next week but there was a part of the termination process that apparently has to happen after we've cleared housing, so he's going to try and get us moved next Monday or Tuesday.
Hah!!
So, yeah.
Alternatively, we may still delay things by a week. Isn't this so fun?? All I can do is keep the trash cans empty and the laundry and dishes clean at all times. Living life on a trigger, that's me.
Hah!!
So, yeah.
Alternatively, we may still delay things by a week. Isn't this so fun?? All I can do is keep the trash cans empty and the laundry and dishes clean at all times. Living life on a trigger, that's me.
Oh, beautiful Japan!
My thoughts and prayers are with Japan and all those who may be affected by any resulting tsunami. Stay strong, beautiful little islands.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Homemade furniture
Oh, I love to make things. It isn't very often that I put them to much use since I like the process more than the application, but I'm starting to think that making things only to hide them until I feel good about throwing them away is an utter waste.
So, I want to make one these:
Link.
And look at all those tools you need for it. I'm sure I could get by without a nailer and a sander, and a jig saw might do the work of the circular saw as well. It would be really hard to hide one of these babies, especially after painting it something fun like bright blue. If I made two or modified the plans to make six cubbies we're all have no excuse for putting backpacks and jackets on the couch (not that we wouldn't try with all our might to make new excuses stick). One lady even modified hers to add small drawers above the jacket cubby which makes the unit even more desirable.
It's interesting how DIY used to be a necessity, just something young people of a certain social class grew up learning. Now it's a sort of elitist hobby. What a funny old world.
So, I want to make one these:
Link.
And look at all those tools you need for it. I'm sure I could get by without a nailer and a sander, and a jig saw might do the work of the circular saw as well. It would be really hard to hide one of these babies, especially after painting it something fun like bright blue. If I made two or modified the plans to make six cubbies we're all have no excuse for putting backpacks and jackets on the couch (not that we wouldn't try with all our might to make new excuses stick). One lady even modified hers to add small drawers above the jacket cubby which makes the unit even more desirable.
It's interesting how DIY used to be a necessity, just something young people of a certain social class grew up learning. Now it's a sort of elitist hobby. What a funny old world.
Updates and inspections
We had an inspection yesterday which was attended by the IG and company. Man had told me that we'd be getting an inspection to make sure that no one is living in the squalor they found a few high ranking soldiers enjoying in post housing. He just didn't know when. So I was a little surprised to answer the door to an inspector yesterday, and shocked to learned that it was the Inspector General, four of his attending sergeants, a nurse case manager, a representative from the Fire Marshall's office, an electrical engineer who was interested in wiring since two houses have burned down in as many years due to wiring issues, and a rep from the government housing offices (so, our housing office's boss).
And I hadn't yet made my bed or vacuumed. Oy. At least I got my 8 loads of laundry put away the day before.
Anyway, it was interesting that many of them had already heard of Man because of the issues we've been having with getting his orders drawn up. "Oh, you're the guy with 90 days of leave they're wrastlin' over?" Man has 73 days of leave, which is unusual. The IG assured us that despite the confusion everything would work out for us. He spoke with authority and consideration. I've shaken hands with congressmen and mayors who didn't project nearly that level of certainty that he would speak and be obeyed, and yet he was kind and listened. Overall, despite my minor messes, it was a good experience.
Today, we had our pre-move out inspection. We were told in a letter that we'd have to pay all damages by this Saturday which made me mad, considering that if I had to pay damages before I'd even had a chance to clean without furniture in the house that it didn't seem worth the effort to set things right at all. In short, it seemed like a disincentive to leave the house nice.
It turns out that we can just leave a check at the office on the day we move. Sweet! And the damages are relatively minor: 3 sets of blinds that were the sad victims of a runaway basketball, and one door with an inexplicable crack in it. I'm thinking of spackling the door since the crack is small and merely cosmetic anyhow. So, now I just have to rent a carpet cleaner and do some more priming and I'm good.
It's funny how things turn up when an inspector is there scrutinizing things. We found nail polish on one wall, the above mentioned crack, and pen marks on more walls than we have previously noticed.
The last few weeks have really been revealing to me: Man and I are indifferent house keepers. That's it. I love, LOVE these wonderful blogs about having nice, well decorated houses:
http://www.centsationalgirl.com/
http://www.younghouselove.com/
http://orgjunkie.com/
http://lauragunn.typepad.com/
And for us it's more of a fairly tale ending we'll achieve after the kids are older or even gone. I don't know the first thing about window treatments or "balancing" a room, whatever the heck that means. I've thought about picking one room at a time and finding something online to imitate, which may be the only realistic solution for my decorating short comings. In the mean time, I browse and sigh and make plans to buy the tools to rock this website:
http://ana-white.com/
Ok, so updates on the orders. Man's leave has been approved, but someone wrote the wrong date on some papers that accidentally got signed off on which means things have been delayed even more while they decide whether to honor the real date or the accidental date. At this point we're thinking of putting the move off of a week or two since it's impossible to schedule a move without orders (despite the high ranking memorandum Man has been using to begin outprocessing this week) and it'd be extremely difficult to move ourselves since we're both gimpy and there are only so many missionaries and guys from church who aren't on TDY at the moment.
I've also been in touch with MilitaryOneSource for employment assistance. They've already researched my case and sent recommendations for employment placement agencies (both civilian and military) and information on the Military Spouse Preference Program, which gives me a slight edge when applying for a government job or any job on a military post. Sweet!
So, we may be moving in 8 days or not. Heh. Exciting, yes?
And I hadn't yet made my bed or vacuumed. Oy. At least I got my 8 loads of laundry put away the day before.
Anyway, it was interesting that many of them had already heard of Man because of the issues we've been having with getting his orders drawn up. "Oh, you're the guy with 90 days of leave they're wrastlin' over?" Man has 73 days of leave, which is unusual. The IG assured us that despite the confusion everything would work out for us. He spoke with authority and consideration. I've shaken hands with congressmen and mayors who didn't project nearly that level of certainty that he would speak and be obeyed, and yet he was kind and listened. Overall, despite my minor messes, it was a good experience.
Today, we had our pre-move out inspection. We were told in a letter that we'd have to pay all damages by this Saturday which made me mad, considering that if I had to pay damages before I'd even had a chance to clean without furniture in the house that it didn't seem worth the effort to set things right at all. In short, it seemed like a disincentive to leave the house nice.
It turns out that we can just leave a check at the office on the day we move. Sweet! And the damages are relatively minor: 3 sets of blinds that were the sad victims of a runaway basketball, and one door with an inexplicable crack in it. I'm thinking of spackling the door since the crack is small and merely cosmetic anyhow. So, now I just have to rent a carpet cleaner and do some more priming and I'm good.
It's funny how things turn up when an inspector is there scrutinizing things. We found nail polish on one wall, the above mentioned crack, and pen marks on more walls than we have previously noticed.
The last few weeks have really been revealing to me: Man and I are indifferent house keepers. That's it. I love, LOVE these wonderful blogs about having nice, well decorated houses:
http://www.centsationalgirl.com/
http://www.younghouselove.com/
http://orgjunkie.com/
http://lauragunn.typepad.com/
And for us it's more of a fairly tale ending we'll achieve after the kids are older or even gone. I don't know the first thing about window treatments or "balancing" a room, whatever the heck that means. I've thought about picking one room at a time and finding something online to imitate, which may be the only realistic solution for my decorating short comings. In the mean time, I browse and sigh and make plans to buy the tools to rock this website:
http://ana-white.com/
Ok, so updates on the orders. Man's leave has been approved, but someone wrote the wrong date on some papers that accidentally got signed off on which means things have been delayed even more while they decide whether to honor the real date or the accidental date. At this point we're thinking of putting the move off of a week or two since it's impossible to schedule a move without orders (despite the high ranking memorandum Man has been using to begin outprocessing this week) and it'd be extremely difficult to move ourselves since we're both gimpy and there are only so many missionaries and guys from church who aren't on TDY at the moment.
I've also been in touch with MilitaryOneSource for employment assistance. They've already researched my case and sent recommendations for employment placement agencies (both civilian and military) and information on the Military Spouse Preference Program, which gives me a slight edge when applying for a government job or any job on a military post. Sweet!
So, we may be moving in 8 days or not. Heh. Exciting, yes?
The one trilogy to rule them all
It's official.
I'm finally going to buy a set of Lord of the Rings. The one trilogy to rule them all.
It's finally coming out on Blu-ray in extended edition.
So far, I've got the $5 theatrical dvd's. What I really want is everything from the extended edition in Blu-ray, including interviews and documentaries. I've held off on getting the extended editions for this long because I didn't want to be one of those material hungry fans who just hauls off and gets each new version that hits the market though heaven knows I wanted to be that material hungry fan. I can't even bring myself to watch those $5 dvds on my big, beautiful tv when I know that I'm missing essential parts of the story which are still billed as "extras." Finally, I'll be able to watch these movies the way they were intended to be enjoyed: full length, blu-ray quality, in the comfort of my own home, munching on my favorite brands of popcorn and licorice (Red Vines, man).
Now The Hobbit is going to come out and I'll wait for that special edition to come out on Blu-ray as well. And it will be sweet. My daughter is asking for the Harry Potter series on Blu-ray, but my understanding is that they weren't even filmed in hi-def until the fourth movie anyway.
Oh, I'm so excited. The One Trilogy won't even be available for many months yet but I hit that pre-order button after just a moment of awe. It will be mine...
...my preciousssssss.
I'm finally going to buy a set of Lord of the Rings. The one trilogy to rule them all.
It's finally coming out on Blu-ray in extended edition.
So far, I've got the $5 theatrical dvd's. What I really want is everything from the extended edition in Blu-ray, including interviews and documentaries. I've held off on getting the extended editions for this long because I didn't want to be one of those material hungry fans who just hauls off and gets each new version that hits the market though heaven knows I wanted to be that material hungry fan. I can't even bring myself to watch those $5 dvds on my big, beautiful tv when I know that I'm missing essential parts of the story which are still billed as "extras." Finally, I'll be able to watch these movies the way they were intended to be enjoyed: full length, blu-ray quality, in the comfort of my own home, munching on my favorite brands of popcorn and licorice (Red Vines, man).
Now The Hobbit is going to come out and I'll wait for that special edition to come out on Blu-ray as well. And it will be sweet. My daughter is asking for the Harry Potter series on Blu-ray, but my understanding is that they weren't even filmed in hi-def until the fourth movie anyway.
Oh, I'm so excited. The One Trilogy won't even be available for many months yet but I hit that pre-order button after just a moment of awe. It will be mine...
...my preciousssssss.
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
Freida again
I love little kids and the way they don't quite get words right. At the moment she's playing Mario Gaxaly, and likes ephelants.
Me: Elephants?
Her: No, eph-el-ants, mom-uh.
And most of the last words in her sentences end with "uh."
Her: I want to go to the store-uh. Please-uh?
Perhaps it's infatuation, but it hasn't gotten old yet.
Me: Elephants?
Her: No, eph-el-ants, mom-uh.
And most of the last words in her sentences end with "uh."
Her: I want to go to the store-uh. Please-uh?
Perhaps it's infatuation, but it hasn't gotten old yet.
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Resume.
Items that ought to go on the resume but wouldn't look professional: I can cook, help with homework, defrost a freezer, and arbitrate World War III in my kitchen all at the same time. I can sit with a stony face when everyone in the room doesn't like my work and make them say "thank you." I can do a load of laundry, prepare a tax return, fix or make a piece of jewelry, design and prepare two dozen cupcakes or announcements, and even occasionally shower and shave, all before school. I can discern in an instant whether the sad face in front of me is ill from nerves, germs, or laziness. I can find a system of success for my son who has ADHD wherein he now happily undertakes tasks which, a year ago, sent him into instant melt down. I can make, with a square foot of fabric and some thread, a couple of dolls that will keep a 5 year old and a 3 year old happily occupied for hours. I can clean every bodily fluid from nearly every kind of surface without adding to the mess myself. I'm a problem solver for issues both great and small, day and night, messy and classy, both what goes on the body or into it, for feelings and reactions and appointments and hurts seen and unseen. I treasure awkward story telling when it means that my child or partner is excited to share something with me, and intolerant of awkward story telling when in involves such heinous crimes as lamp breaking or cookie stealing. I can do all of this and still relax at a moment's notice during the day, I can be all of this and still have a centered identity, I can get the job done when heroes and leaders of men turn their faces. And my future employer will only know of these things after I've been on the job for a few months because it is unprofessional to show what being a mommy or a wife has taught me.
Freida-isms
Laying down in bed one day, she reached her hand into the air.
"Mom, this is my favorite hand friend."
Aw... wasn't sure if that was cute or sad.
Just now...
Me: That's so cool.
Her: Yeaaaaaaah. That's some cold water.
She always knows exactly what she's talking about.
"Mom, this is my favorite hand friend."
Aw... wasn't sure if that was cute or sad.
Just now...
Me: That's so cool.
Her: Yeaaaaaaah. That's some cold water.
She always knows exactly what she's talking about.
Friday, March 04, 2011
tug of war
We found out yesterday that Man was supposed to contact a transition office 30 days prior to outprocessing from post. But then his squad leader said to not worry about it and just keep moving forward with the move as planned. Two housing inspections next week, one of which is for moving and the other is because some higher ups were found to be living in squalor. Ack!
Thursday, March 03, 2011
"He's not so bad-guy" movies and job openings
It's a tale as old as time: cute [kid/woman] meets bad-guy who slowly starts to appreciate then love cute [kid/woman] and then he turns out to be a not so bad-guy after all. Cute story. Modern versions in cinema include Lilo and Stitch, Despicable Me, and my most recent favorite, Megamind.
I've seen it before in over a dozen iterations but for some reason Megamind really speaks to me. I may have to buy that one.
Speaking of putting your money where your fandom is, have you heard about the new Firefly brouhaha? Yeah, wow. I'm totally on that bandwagon.
I've posted my job qualifications over on LDSjobs.org. Things are so uncertain at the moment that it's looking like I'll definitely be getting a job while Man sorts himself out. Which isn't a bad thing. I've wanted to get back into being a some sort of professional for a while now and this is forcing my hand. Oddly enough, I'm attracted to working at Home Depot so I can learn how to use a forklift and maybe build stuff. There are other administrative jobs available but I'm starting to think that I want something that will also get me up and moving my body. I'm good to go for Military to Medicine which will get me a toe into healthcare as well with a certificate.
Another fabulously viral bit of news is a young lady named Amanda Hocking. She writes books and electronically publishes them through Kindle. I've also seen her stuff for Nook. Anyway, she has no publisher and no overhead and makes about $2 million a year just writing from home and getting noticed. Man wants me to finish my NaNoWriMo book and give self publishing a whirl. Who knows? Maybe we could retire to Italy after I become a best selling author. Wouldn't that be a peach.
I've seen it before in over a dozen iterations but for some reason Megamind really speaks to me. I may have to buy that one.
Speaking of putting your money where your fandom is, have you heard about the new Firefly brouhaha? Yeah, wow. I'm totally on that bandwagon.
I've posted my job qualifications over on LDSjobs.org. Things are so uncertain at the moment that it's looking like I'll definitely be getting a job while Man sorts himself out. Which isn't a bad thing. I've wanted to get back into being a some sort of professional for a while now and this is forcing my hand. Oddly enough, I'm attracted to working at Home Depot so I can learn how to use a forklift and maybe build stuff. There are other administrative jobs available but I'm starting to think that I want something that will also get me up and moving my body. I'm good to go for Military to Medicine which will get me a toe into healthcare as well with a certificate.
Another fabulously viral bit of news is a young lady named Amanda Hocking. She writes books and electronically publishes them through Kindle. I've also seen her stuff for Nook. Anyway, she has no publisher and no overhead and makes about $2 million a year just writing from home and getting noticed. Man wants me to finish my NaNoWriMo book and give self publishing a whirl. Who knows? Maybe we could retire to Italy after I become a best selling author. Wouldn't that be a peach.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Just keep on trucking
So our latest date to get out of here may or may not be a go. Again. What's wrong with March 20th? Well, first of all, it's a Sunday. No one thought of that when they were doing the math on leave and TDY. We may not get that leave approved despite the best efforts of Man's chain of command but it's still coming up soon. Two weeks.
How are we doing? The kids have been enjoying this new job chart website: Link.
It's free and you don't have to put personally identifying info in except for an email address. I like it because I'm notoriously inconsistent with my kids and this is a way for them to take the initiative and get their own rewards. One of the rewards I put up for Things 2-4 is to get a toy out of toy jail, where toys go to live when their owners don't clean them up when asked. Some toys skip Go and end up in the trash or the thrift store box but the rate of return on the toys is slow enough that the younger kids don't even miss the ones they never see again.
I've also finally got a working financial system for the kids now. I made checking accounts for most of them (sorry Freida, wait another two years or so) and savings for all four. Transfers to their accounts are easy (my fav four letter word) and there's a much lower minimum transfer than we had with their prepaid allowance cards. Money goes into savings as easily as into checking. The result is that they can watch their checking accounts like hawks now and suddenly Money Chores are all the rage. They have normal chores but there are things for which I'm willing to pay a nominal sum and they're all too happy to make it happen. Suddenly I've got a gaggle of entrepreneurs on my hands. Between Money Chores and the points system of the above website, their rooms are clean and the dishes get done with no questions asked.
Let's just hope it lasts this time.
I loved the House Fairy lady's ideas. She was far to saccharine for me, really, but the system was sound. The only problem is that leaving a small reward at random intervals didn't work so well when the two kids who stayed home from school learned that unguarded prizes were sprouting from pillows. It didn't occur to me at the time to make mail boxes. Oh, well.
At any rate, I like the new system and my new white board upon which I record all of the little things I've never been good at tracking in my whimsical brain. Who has earned a quarter for reading a book to their sister and recording it in her reading log? Who is grounded for how long, from what, and for why? I also write down the following day's events the night before or in the morning which helps keep things on my radar somewhat.
All in all, it's madness. No job yet, no house, and I'm scared. The events of the last year have heaped themselves on top of a decade of more madness and after this past Christmas I found myself imploding and I havn't recovered. Thus, I do not blog, call, write, or see anyone if I can help it. My instinct is to push away all relationships when things get this hairy which hasn't been the best way to keep up with friends at all, but I'm slowly learning to not exclude everyone all the time even if it's messy. I went to a church meeting last night and the most common greeting people met me with was "oh my gosh, are you alright?" It would seem that my troubles are written on my face in plainer language than I had supposed. I've been taking things one day a time for so long that two weeks from now is an eternity away, but unfortunately it's an eternity into which we'll be face planting soon. Private sector and all your woes, here we come with a gaggle of kids and two distinct but cold-comfort advantages: Man is soon to be a disabled vet (preferential treatment when applying for gov't jobs assuming he's qualified for them) and we're debt free (but without a solid assurance of future income).
My heartburn is back. I think I'll name it Portia. Portia is a high maintenance name, a name that demands attention and intimidation. Yes, "Portia came to visit after supper" seems to set the right tone and it's easier to say than Dyspepsia.
How are we doing? The kids have been enjoying this new job chart website: Link.
It's free and you don't have to put personally identifying info in except for an email address. I like it because I'm notoriously inconsistent with my kids and this is a way for them to take the initiative and get their own rewards. One of the rewards I put up for Things 2-4 is to get a toy out of toy jail, where toys go to live when their owners don't clean them up when asked. Some toys skip Go and end up in the trash or the thrift store box but the rate of return on the toys is slow enough that the younger kids don't even miss the ones they never see again.
I've also finally got a working financial system for the kids now. I made checking accounts for most of them (sorry Freida, wait another two years or so) and savings for all four. Transfers to their accounts are easy (my fav four letter word) and there's a much lower minimum transfer than we had with their prepaid allowance cards. Money goes into savings as easily as into checking. The result is that they can watch their checking accounts like hawks now and suddenly Money Chores are all the rage. They have normal chores but there are things for which I'm willing to pay a nominal sum and they're all too happy to make it happen. Suddenly I've got a gaggle of entrepreneurs on my hands. Between Money Chores and the points system of the above website, their rooms are clean and the dishes get done with no questions asked.
Let's just hope it lasts this time.
I loved the House Fairy lady's ideas. She was far to saccharine for me, really, but the system was sound. The only problem is that leaving a small reward at random intervals didn't work so well when the two kids who stayed home from school learned that unguarded prizes were sprouting from pillows. It didn't occur to me at the time to make mail boxes. Oh, well.
At any rate, I like the new system and my new white board upon which I record all of the little things I've never been good at tracking in my whimsical brain. Who has earned a quarter for reading a book to their sister and recording it in her reading log? Who is grounded for how long, from what, and for why? I also write down the following day's events the night before or in the morning which helps keep things on my radar somewhat.
All in all, it's madness. No job yet, no house, and I'm scared. The events of the last year have heaped themselves on top of a decade of more madness and after this past Christmas I found myself imploding and I havn't recovered. Thus, I do not blog, call, write, or see anyone if I can help it. My instinct is to push away all relationships when things get this hairy which hasn't been the best way to keep up with friends at all, but I'm slowly learning to not exclude everyone all the time even if it's messy. I went to a church meeting last night and the most common greeting people met me with was "oh my gosh, are you alright?" It would seem that my troubles are written on my face in plainer language than I had supposed. I've been taking things one day a time for so long that two weeks from now is an eternity away, but unfortunately it's an eternity into which we'll be face planting soon. Private sector and all your woes, here we come with a gaggle of kids and two distinct but cold-comfort advantages: Man is soon to be a disabled vet (preferential treatment when applying for gov't jobs assuming he's qualified for them) and we're debt free (but without a solid assurance of future income).
My heartburn is back. I think I'll name it Portia. Portia is a high maintenance name, a name that demands attention and intimidation. Yes, "Portia came to visit after supper" seems to set the right tone and it's easier to say than Dyspepsia.
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