So...

Leave it to the husband to keep you off the internet for 4 days even though it's hooked up and you're paying for it because 1) while he found all the pieces to the computer on Wednesday he didn't know where the movers packed the cords until I found them with my bra's and panties (yep, seriously. Bra's, panties, power cords. I'm not sure how those got into my top drawer...) and 2) when the computer is completely hooked up and functional I gave the husband permission to make the computer run faster on the premise that he will not break it annnnnd then it doesn't work until late Saturday night because he has to buy some fancy-shmancy cord for 20 bucks because the other one shorted out.

Anyway. Kyra's schedule is slowly coming into place.

• Her library time is set as she attends her second class this week.
• One week of ice skating down, two more to go before they shut down the rink.... What the hell? The Artic Tundra closes an ice rink for 3 months yet the Mason Dixon Line manages to find enough cold air to keep their ice frozen year round?
• I have the number and will call to set up Kyra's gymnastics sometime this week.
• And finally, Jer and I are researching the local Catholic School system they've got going around here. We're hoping to find a school that still uses dunce caps for the kids sitting in the corner and nuns with rulers just the right size to smack a hand or desk with. Yep, we're those parents. The kind who is happy to see a village raising a child.

Lydia is back to being a normal baby. She sleeps for the better part of the day, a feat not accomplished since she was in her 3rd week of life. She wakes up long enough to eat, smiles and coos at you for an hour, demanding to be held during the entire awake period and then it's back to bed for 3-4 more hours. That is normal, right? I mean, Kyra never slept that much but I've heard most babies do.

Also, the little midget has been growing. I've had to fold up her first 0-3 month outfit today. Her arms were too long for the long sleeved onsie. No. Really. It fit everywhere else except her arms extended farther then the end of her sleeve and it looked funny. Think she's going to be one of those freaks with the creepy long monkey arms? Think I maybe, might, shouldn't be calling her a freak so young in life as it maybe, might give her a complex?

Eh, that's okay.

We'll probably be paying for her therapy bills later in life for doing much worse to her. We often use the phrase Where's the Disgruntled Baby? or Do you want the Disgruntaled One? because of all the crying we've endured the last 6 weeks. Maybe we should get over that nickname since she's hasn't really been disgruntaled lately. If we call her disgruntled enough she might just turn into one of those pissed off old ladies you see in the movies ---->

Anyway. I'm all kinds of lonely up here. I need new friends. I miss my Mason Dixon friends. Jer so kindly nicknamed us the Park Mafia because there were four of us with children and we frequently got together at the park for lunch and play time. Although, we also managed to get together at the zoo, each other's houses, Chuck E. Cheese... apparently he didn't take any of that into consideration.

So, 2 of those friends came into my life because they just invited themselves over to my house. Both would show up randomly, without warning just to hang out and chit chat. The third friend I met through the other two. She was a quick fit into our group. Because I'm socially inept, that seems to be the only way I know how to make friends, you either show up on my doorstep frequently and without warning or friends though association. Whatever works.

My problem now is that I live kind of out there. Our address is considered "rural" even to the local post office which, I think, is a converted old house. A very small old house. And, lets face it, Wal-Mart is 30 minutes away. Not many places anymore where there isn't a Wal-Mart within 3 minutes of your house. And unless I wonder around Wal-Mart all day, how am I supposed to be social in a rural community?

So, my question to you is... how do I make new friends?

I tried to get my old ones to move up here with me, they politely declined- something about "hell no, they're not stupid and their husbands are fully planning on getting out of the navy" or "we have orders elsewhere," to which I have to say psh. But, seriously. How in the world do you make friends in the adult world without them forcing themselves upon you? Apparently, I like being a hermit and am quite fond of pushy friendships but you can't find those everyday when you enjoy living away from society.

Hey Ya'll!

We're back. Minus the divorce papers. Yea for us!

Trip went well. Pictures soon to come.

Thought that I'd let you know the weather man is a liar liar pants on fire kind of guy. He totally said this morning that the western half of our state would see snow flurries but we here on the coast would get a whole lot of nothing.

Liar.

I'd like to just say that as I was bringing the Babies back home from the kennel I totally had snow flurries sticking to my window. It was 12:31 this afternoon, to be exact. I noted the time because I was also noting the temperature at that very moment being 45 degrees.

Too warm for snow, isn't it?

But, apparently not for flurries. Because I saw them. Lasting just long enough to make my heart skip a beat as they were sticking to my windshield and then promptly melting.

Guess even here at the Mason Dixon Line I'll still be worrying about the possibility of snow.

You All Would Warn Me If a Deadly Desease Were to Roll Through Town, Right?

Its been one of those days. You know the kind.

Like when you wake up on time for your kid's 3 year check up, make it to the parking garage 20 minutes before your child's appointment time, put the car in park at the exact same time your child is due to see the doctor, and finally get through the garage, hospital, and reception line only to be told you're 10 minutes late. But wait! We'll ask the doctor if they will see you.

Except no, the doctor will not see you because "if she can't make it to the appointment on time then she needs to reschedule for a time she can be here without delay."

HI! HELLO! This is me you're talking about, douche bag. I'm the one who is half wet because I parked in the only space available on the incline to the top floor of the parking deck. I'm the one who is gasping for air because not only did I run down 3 flights of stairs. I'm the one who ran through 2 hallways and waited for your receptionists to finish up with her 5 minute, detailed, conversation with the dude 2 people in front of me. Not only that, but I did all this 6 months pregnant with a 3 year old on my hip!

I totally held off my tears as I calmly grabbed Kyra's hand and walked away quietly answering her questions of "Why I not see my docker? But I wanna see my docker." with responses like "because we were too late, honey." and "because they don't understand that Mommy tried very hard to get you here but sometimes things don't always work out."

I totally wanted to scream and yell that I tried, that parking here sucks dirty ass and maybe I would have only been 5 minutes late if they had more then one receptionist to check people in. And that, DAMN IT! I TRIED REALLY REALLY HARD TO MAKE IT HERE ON TIME!

But I didn't say anything. Except Thank You and I'm sorry for taking up your time because I'm sure they've heard all the excuses in the world and mine would not have been any different, no matter how true they were.

What really made me upset wasn't the fact that I was turned away, but the fact that I was turned away when there was no one, NO ONE, in the waiting area. The two people in front of me were redirected somewhere else which left only Kyra and myself in the room. So I'm not sure exactly who we would have been holding up with our 10 minute tardiness...? And not only that, but seriously, when, in the history of waiting rooms, has anyone actually been seen on time? I mean, we're always there 15 minutes early and I tend to consider it a good wait if we are actually seen 20 minutes late.

I was told to reschedule. But I'm not going to. The way I see it, if a yearly check up was that important for the doctor to nonchalantly cast us away, then Kyra can just wait until she's 4 before we try it again. At another duty station. One with non retarded pediatricians.

Until then, someone give me a heads up if the Bubonic Plague comes rolling through the Mason Dixon Line, eh? She is no longer considered up to date on her shots.

Glutton For Punishment

I miss New England. And I never thought I would utter those words when we were stationed there. I've even been told, after uttering those words to a friend who has also lived in and recently moved out of New England, that I'm a glutton for punishment.

I look back now and see my dislike of New England had more to do with the Navy and the fact that our boat was out to sea 75% of the year. I missed Jeremy. Kyra missed her Daddy. Because of him never being home, we never experienced a whole lot of the wonderful things New England has to offer.

Skiing at the local hot spots. Touring around NYC or Boston. Taking a weekend to stay at one of the ungodly number of Bed and Breakfasts that litter every large and small town. We were within driving distance of both the fresh lobster Maine has to off and Niagara Falls and we didn't get to travel to either.

Jeremy and I have been dreaming about returning to our favorite Toxic Crap Hole the Navy has to offer. We agreed that if there was an opening for a shore command position there we both wanted to jump feet first on it. But we've had no such luck. The only job available at this time is no better then asking to be put on the first boat out on deployment. And neither one of us are all that excited to sign up for that job.

His next option is to stay here at the Mason Dixon Line with a sweet, cush job that includes 9-5 work days, weekends off, very limited time away from home and a guaranteed ladder to quickly climb the military ranks due to the sheer number of head haunch's Jeremy would work with/under. The thing is, we hate it here at the Mason Dixon Line. It's crowded. It's expensive. And every bit of affordable housing within close proximity to his job is either next to the ghetto or a 4x6 box in the shiny part of town. The glory of living in the big(er) city wore off about two months after we moved in.

His third option is a teaching position in the Bible Belt. Still 9-5, weekends and holidays off and helpful with advancements. The catch is, he's not quite qualified for the position, yet, and my fear is the position will be taken before he is qualified. Even still, it's in the Bible Belt... and the Bible Belt is fucking hot 9 months out of the year. Combine that with the fact that there aren't any new and fun things to do within close proximity. (Take my word for it, I grew up in the Bible Belt) The couple of differences between the Mason Dixon Line and the Bible Belt are as follows: its significantly smaller and more affordable; and there is always someone on the corner of a major intersection holding a sign with some kind of religious jargon I'd rather not have shoved in my face while on my daily errand runs. I mean, other then my family, which will be in very close proximity for the first time in 5 years and the job its self, there's not much in the Bible Belt we're all that excited about.

Two excellent jobs in locations we don't really want to be or our prime, first pick, location with a crappy job offer. We're torn. And I'm saddened.

I miss my orchard, canning a year's worth of peaches and pears, freezing a year's worth of blueberries and raspberries we hand picked. I miss cutting down our ginormous Christmas tree for just $20. I miss our house that had my large kitchen and the giant hill in the back yard, perfect for winter sledding. And I miss bitching about the cold ass winters.

So, what would you guys do- egg your husband on to pick the crappy job in your ideal area, push him to go for the job with the quickest advancements (knowing he's not a lifer) in the crappy part of town or pick the good job in the decent city closest to family?

I mean, sure, I write it down and it seems obvious to me, Bible Belt- Here we come! But damn it, I want my New England.

My Brief Stint In Hell

You all should be very, very, proud of yours truly. Remember how I don't drive when there's even a hint of snow? Ya, well, mother nature got me and got me good. According to the New England weather men it was due to snow Tuesday afternoon- at 3pm. My ass was to be hot tailing it out of town by Noon. I held up my end of the deal.

Wanna know when it started snowing? 1:30. Just as I hit bumper to bumper, stop and go traffic in New York City.

I fucking hate your guts NYC.

And once I exited NYC for the great state of New Jersey.... oh, ya, snow starts sticking to the roads.

Thanks NJ, now you too can burn in hell with NYC.

So to ease my tensed white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, I started documenting my trip in pictures.

In a totally safe manner of course.

See the white stuff in the road ways? That's call God Hates Me.

But then? I thought it was just a very cruel joke He was playing on me when two hours into NJ it started raining- and rain, well, rain I can do.

Off to the Mason Dixon Line!

Oh, but then, yes, after I get all excited about the rain, God plays another mean joke on me and starts producing ice. All around me, all I can see is ice. Oh, and spin outs from the dumb yuppies who drove to fast.

Idiots. What the hell were they doing on the road in an ice storm anyhow? Didn't they know an inexperienced driver snapping pictures was on the road trying to move her family down south?

But we made it alive and in one piece. I signed the lease papers, unpacked our vehicles, and attempted to turn on our heat. However, here at the Mason Dixon Line, you can not turn on your heat in your husband's name even when you have in your posession a power of attorney to do your husband's bidding.

Kyra and I had one cold night, but thanks to a good friend, we were supplied with lots and lots of blankets to try and keep warm.

When we woke up in the morning we found this... a very slight dusting of snow that caused schools and business to be delayed for 2 hours. It was at that point I knew we were back in the south because New England would laugh at the sight delaying school for this.

We've sucessfully made it to the Mason Dixon Line. Pictures to follow tomorrow, however, in honor of living in the South again, here was my very first glass of fresh, yummy, savory sweet tea.

Mmmmm... God Bless Sweet Tea.

House Hunting- the Bad, the Horrid and the Who the Fuck Would Rent This Roach Motel

That explains nearly everything we've looked at so far.

Tomorrow we're hoping to put in an application for a really nice apartment. If they accept us, which we don't know why they wouldn't, then our search is finished. If they deny us, we're destined to live in squalor.

Wish us some luck, will ya?

Christopher Columbus- Here's to You

Last weekend was Columbus Day. I mentioned we were heading on a quick trip. We were in search of Sweet Tea, which can only be found in it's truest form when your on the southern side of the Mason Dixon Line. (okay, so we weren't in search of sweet tea, but it sounds better then the truth.... we were house hunting)

Mind you, Kyra is now full time in panties (alright, so I lied again... but diapers while sleeping doesn't count). A 8 1/2 hour trip turned into 12 hours once we finished stopping on every. single. exit to check out their bathrooms. Because, you know how terrible it would be if we actually had to miss an exit or two.

We were geared up. Sunglasses- check, snacks- check, three hundred books because Kyra would rather read a book then play with any kind of toy- check, Kyra's sheep from Scotland (a.k.a. Baa)- check. We were ready to roll.
We made it into and out of New York City with in several hours and headed south through the great state of New Jersey... who even at the very last exit, farthest from New York, was still supporting the Big Apple.
The driver for most of the trip was the Husband. As he is a terrible navigator (much like Mr. Columbus) and is thus not allowed to handle a map.
When the Husband started getting tired and yawning too much, I proceeded to keep him awake by egging Kyra on in a screaming match. Oh, we had a great time. Our driver? He complained of a growing headache. And something about his eardrums about to explode because he could only cover one ear at a time. Really, he bitched too much. Kyra and I were doing him a service by helping to keep him awake and alert.
When the screaming match was over and Kyra decided it was nap time, I wisely started to pain my toenails in a closed area so we could all get high while my nails looked all kinds of pretty. Except that, well, one should not paint your toes while someone is getting high while driving. I'm sure he was aiming for every bump and pothole in the road just so my pedicure would turn out like this:
As a caution to the rest of you who may be driving through State Road 13 in Maryland... don't stop. Even when the hubby insists on a supper break at the local Stuckey's because a tattered billboard states they serve sandwiches, don't stop. This whole stretch of Maryland smells like a cow poo and, well, the flies run rampant. This is no exaggeration, we stopped and paid the price. I was keeping my eyes open for some kind of farm animal to explain both the burning nostril stench and overwhelming fly colonies. No animals aside from the flies were ever found.

Once we exited that shit hole, we entered a slightly less of a shit hole. At the Pizza Hut 20 miles down the road the stench of manure was still around, but tolerable. The flies were also still hanging out, but in smaller swarms. We at least thought we could find something non-dairy for Kyra to eat as their menu offered Ham and Cheese sandwiches. So we ordered one for her, with out the cheese and stressed the issue that she was ALLERGIC TO DAIRY and not to ignore this request. A ham sandwich was served, sans a slice of cheese, but with baked cheese on top of the bread! Those Maryland folks were missing a few important screws, if you get my drift.

Once we made it past the Mason Dixon line we stayed the night at a friends house. I have no pictures or proof of this, you'll just have to take my word on the matter. Once our house hunting search was finished, and by finished what I mean is we couldn't find the damned place, gave up and found something better to do- like stop at a local park and play on the swings.

And we took a walk through a really creepy Blair Witch style wooded area. The farther back we went along the trail the further away from civilization we were and no signs of an end were near. My girl friend and I even sent our husbands ahead of us to see how close were were to finishing. When the boys came back they said we should turn around, no end to the trail was ever found.

On our way home the next day we made one of our many pit stops for Kyra in a Food Lion grocery store. In the parking lot this tractor was creeping through on its way to plow (or do whatever this kind of tractor does) a small acre size field in between the Food Lion parking lot and the Sonic in front of it. Odd place for a field I thought, but I guess that's why they didn't consult me when making these decisions.

Finally, all of that culminates to this: on the 12 hour drive there Kyra mastered her vampire/bat line. Okay, so she hasn't quite mastered it as she still garbles the words, but she has the rhythm down. If you can speak Toddler you'd know exactly what she was saying. For your viewing pleasure, I present this video to you all. Enjoy.