Tchuss 2010, Hallo 2011

This has been quite a year for me. It started out with us knowing Jon was deploying. Not the best way to start the New Year, but it was expected. The worst part of it was not knowing when he was leaving. Since we knew he would miss our annual “beach vacation” we decided to plan our dream trip to Italy.

About 5 minutes after we planned the trip, we found out we were pregnant. We weren’t really expecting it so soon, but it was exciting nonetheless. We were going to be cutting it close with the baby’s due date so we kept our fingers crossed that Jon would be home in time. Italy was surely going to be a different type of trip for me, but I was so excited to see a country off my wish list.

We did it like only the Carter’s can-we road tripped it. It was the best (and longest) 10 days. I loved everything about Italy. We started in Venice (where it rained, rained and rained some more),

then headed to Rome (where the weather was cool, but beautiful and the sights even more awesome then we could have imagined),

then on through the Tuscan countryside to Florence where enjoyed the most AMAZING dinner ever (and had it paid for by a sweet gentlemen from the states on vacation with his 3 daughters),

lastly we headed to Lake Como (which is definitely much more fun in the summer, but was the most beautiful place that I’ve ever seen).

Lucy was amazing (as always) and hardly complained at all about riding in the car for up to 8 hours some days. She slept on the run for the first time since she was a newborn and ate gelato on the Spanish Steps in Rome. It was the best way to spend our last few days with Jon before he left.

Then the inevitable came. Jon finally found out he was leaving in March. We prepared ourselves as best you can for the separation, but it was still difficult to say goodbye. I didn’t know what to expect from Lucy or how I would handle our first long separation.

Lucy and I headed to Arizona in April, about 4 days before her second birthday. Lucy spent time with Nana, Papa, Uncle Adam, Auntie Chrissy and most importantly Carter (one of her cousins). We spent lots of time swimming and enjoying the sunshine. It was tough to say goodbye yet again but it was a great trip and Lucy loved having a good old fashioned American Birthday cake loaded with frosting. She even got to have a cupcake for breakfast that day so she could celebrate with Daddy via Skype.

Along came summer and with it potty training and the terrible twos. Potty Training was the longest 4 days I’ve ever lived, but it was the best feeling when I could officially put away the diapers and say “So long” to the pull-ups.

We spent lots of time at the pool and even more time dealing with tantrums. Not my favorite memories, that’s for sure. We came out on the other side unscathed, but only because I have amazing friends who helped me when things were at their worst.

Through the potty training and tantrums, little baby Carter grew. I had a difficult time being able to focus as much attention on the little babe inside, but I was healthy and so was he or she. Jon and I decided not to find out the sex because he wasn’t here for the ultrasound. We both wanted to hear “it’s a ---!” at delivery. Lucy attended almost every appointment with me and would get super excited to hear the baby’s heartbeat every time we were there.

At the end of summer, Lucy started Pre-School which gave me a much needed break before baby came. Then the worst news came down the wire…Jon wasn’t going to be home for the baby’s birth. It was devastating to say the least. But I scrambled to put together a birthing team to help me through and made sure Jon had the ability to Skype with us.

Minutes after finding out Jon was going to be stuck at his deployment station, my parents saved the day and put together enough money to send my Dad over here for 8 weeks. EIGHT WEEKS! I was beyond overjoyed at having him here for as long as I did. Lucy got to spend some one on one time with Papa and I got the help I needed.

Baby Carter was born in October. SHE is one of the most beautiful things in the world and I was fortunate enough to be able to birth her without any drugs. My team was AMAZING and I don’t think I could have had a better birthing experience had they not been there. It wasn’t the same without Jon there, but he was still able to see his newest baby girl seconds after she arrived.



When this year started, I had no idea what was in store for me. I made it through a 9+ month deployment (that’s still going…), a pregnancy, raising a 2 year old, raising a newborn and celebrating the holidays - all without my husband. I found strength in myself I never knew I had. Sure I had moments when I would break down crying. I worried at times that I would fall into a deep depression that I wouldn’t be able to get out of. But with all those scary moments, I found that I had moments of such happiness and joy that they outshined all the bad ones. I can’t even begin to describe how proud I am of myself. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I was pretty awesome considering the struggles I faced. I coped with such positivity that I deserve to be proud.

I’m glad 2010 is coming to a close. I’m ready for a new year and a new beginning. We have a very special wedding to attend in the Spring and an even more special homecoming to look forward too. I just pray that 2011 is filled with a little less struggle and lot more excitement.

and to all a good night...

Christmas has come and gone in the Carter house. Despite my earlier misgivings about not wanting to celebrate, I ended up finding my Christmas spirit about a week ago.

It turned out to be a great day. Lucy (and Emma) woke early and we opened presents with Dad via Skype. Even though I'm sure he couldn't see us well, it was awesome to have him experience all the excitement of the big day. Lucy was constantly telling him things and showing him presents, but I don't think he could hear or see her very well. It still made a huge difference for me in regards to the holiday itself.

As for the rest of life, well its pretty darn awesome. The girls are amazing and have quite a great routine. While I miss breakfast most days and usually end up scarfing down a sandwich in 4 bites other days (my husband would be so proud!), I can't ask for things to be any easier.

Of course we have our moments and when one starts crying, the other is sure to follow. But I've been handling it in stride. The patience I normally lack has been overwhelming me to the point where I wonder where it comes from. I find myself speaking in calm tones to both of them when the screaming is at it worst (something I've never had an easy time dealing with in the past with Lucy).

I was really scared about being alone with the two girls until Jon finally comes home. But now I'm confident in myself and my abilities. We're late to everything and I'm usually rushing us out the door, but its going well.

So tonight, as I drink my gluhwein and relax on the couch, I find myself content and happy for the first time in a month.

Merry Christmas to all....

being thankful

The last few weeks have been really hard. We're closing in on 250 days (we're at 248 today) and each day gets more difficult. I honestly thought that once we knew he would be home in less time then he had been away, things would get easier. They haven't.

Each day I wake up realizing that he's not coming home today. Each time I have a conversation with Lucy I realize he's not going to ever hear the story she's telling. Each time I hold Emma in my arms and smell her sweet baby goodness I realize he doesn't even know how she feels against his chest much less how she smells. Each time I go to bed I realize he won't be there when I wake up.

Maybe its the hormones from the pregnancy or maybe I've just reached the point where I'm through with dealing with the deployment. But I'm over it. I done.

D-O-N-E...done

Now that I've come to understand he likely won't be home until March, I've started freaking out. I am going to have to raise a newborn and a two and half year old all by myself. I'll have to come up with new routines to incorporate bathtime, meals (for both girls), naps, Skype time with Daddy and time for myself. And no matter how much I try, I can't make it work.

I'm lucky enough to have my Dad here for another two weeks. He's been a tremendous help all day every day. But when he leaves, not only will I be alone-I'll be alone during what used to be my favorite time of year.

I really don't want to celebrate Christmas this year. Being surrounded by your loved ones in what the holiday is all about. While I'll have my two girls to hug and adore, I won't have the one person who I want there the most.

So I decided that instead of crying my eyes out, I need to find the things I'm thankful for to remind me just what my life is all about.

Its not easy to see them right now. But I know in time I will see them and the light will once again become bright.

labor tales...

Well I did it...the hardest part of this deployment is officially over. I gave birth 3 weeks ago. Here's the story of how my little one came into this world...

I was due on Friday October 15. It was a Friday and instead of waiting around to go into labor, I celebrated the lack of contractions by a night out to dinner with a girlfriend, my dad and the girls. It was a delicious dinner and kept my mind off the fact that I had not gone into labor and that Jon wasn't here.

As the days passed, I grew more and more anxious. The anticipation of contractions was stressing me out. Knowing they are going to come and not knowing when was difficult. I constantly worried my water would break in a public place. But I kept doing what I would normally do and waited for the inevitable to happen.

Finally on Tuesday I went in for an NST (fetal non stress test). After sitting there for 20 minutes being monitored, I was told I had 3 contractions. I was surprised since I thought the pain they were referring to was gas. The Mid-wife did a quick ultrasound to check my amniotic fluid and said the baby had lots of room to grow (not exactly what you want to hear when you're already overdue). Since the baby and I were healthy and strong, they scheduled another NST for Friday the 22nd and if I hadn't gone into labor by then, we would discuss being induced. I really didn't want to be induced and I'd discussed this at length with my Mid-Wife before. But at 42 weeks, you don't really get a lot of say in the matter anymore as the safety of the baby is in jeopardy.

Around 3am Wednesday morning, I awoke to a strange but familiar pain. It was so strong it woke me out of a dead sleep and kept me awake for an hour. Since I only had the one, I wasn't concerned. I read myself back to sleep and didn't wake up again until morning.

After waking later that same morning, I started to feel strange. I just didn't feel like myself. My back hurt and I wasn't thinking clearly. I wasn't sure I could sit through Lucy's dance class and said so to my Dad. We decided to skip her class, but I knew I needed to get a few things from base before this baby came so I asked him to come with me and called my girlfriend Niki (who would be in the delivery room with me) to let her know I wasn't feeling right. We decided to meet for coffee on base and see if I started to feel any better.

While trying to enjoy a cup of coffee, I started to feel worse and worse. I was super uncomfortable and kept getting irregular cramping. I really didn't think it was contractions, but after a while my Dad and girlfriend asked me if I was timing them.

"Timing them?" I said, "Like if I was in labor? That can't be it."

But they both insisted I start paying closer attention to the timing "just in case".

After stopping by the commissary (and dropping a jar of jam on the commissary floor), my girlfriend decided to come back to my house with me to have lunch with the kids. By the time we sat down to eat I was more uncomfortable then I had been all morning. I decided that maybe it was time to head to the hospital around 12:15 that afternoon.

By the time we got all the kids situated, sent Jon a message telling him I might be in labor and drove to the hospital, it was 1:30pm. The nurse on call brought me back to a room for a quick triage. They determined I was 5-6cm, fully effaced and having regular contractions. I was then moved to a new room as they claimed the computers in the room weren't working properly. It was the size of walk in closet. We joked they put women in there who decided they didn't want drugs because it was farther away from the other rooms. I was admitted and began receiving antibiotics for GBS (Group B Strep). Niki called my doula who assured her she was on her way and I sent Jon a text message telling him what was going on.

Initially the labor wasn't so bad. I coped by breathing and thinking of Jon. My emotions soon started to take a toll on me and I was crying that I wanted him there. I hated that I didn't have his support at a time when I thought I needed it most. I hated that he wouldn't be there to hold his newborn or share in the joy of seeing him or her for the first time. Niki and my doula were amazing in making sure he was kept in the loop via Skype the whole labor which I will be eternally grateful for. They also kept me sane by talking to me and reminding me that he would be on the computer when it mattered most. Emotionally, I was a mess. Physically, I was doing much better then I expected.

We passed the time by talking and playing Mad Libs. I eventually ended up sitting on a birthing ball for an hour or two once the labor went into back. Both Niki and my doula constantly reminded me to take deep breaths and give in to the contraction. It was crazy how much those little things helped me make it through that first few hours. But then all hell broke loose.

I started to enter into transition labor sometime after 6pm. It was the most excruciating pain I have ever experienced. I couldn't focus the pain was so bad. It literally felt like I was being ripped in half. When the nurse came in to check me right before it started, she told me I was at 8cm and my water still hadn't broken. They administered my second dose of antibiotics. She told me to hold on as long as I could so I could get the antibiotics in before I delivered the baby (as if I had any control of that!). I remember thinking "8 is too late" for any drug intervention. It was like a jinx. No sooner had she left the room then the massive contractions started.

The next 20 minutes were the longest I had ever experienced.

Every contraction ripped through me like a tidal wave. It was never ending. I begged for a break...the most I think I got was about 30 seconds between a few contractions. I was literally writhing on the bed. No matter what I did, I couldn't relax my legs through each contraction and the muscles were killing me on top of each contraction. Niki and Dawn told me it was time to get Jon on Skype. I begged them not to. I didn't want him to see me screaming in pain. I knew it would be difficult for him to hear or see me that way when he couldn't be there to help. Heck, I knew it would have been difficult for him if he had been there. Thank God they didn't listen to me and got him on the webcam or he may have missed the whole thing.

I screamed for what felt like hours. I constantly yelled and told anyone who would listen that I just wanted to go to sleep. The only way I could focus on relaxing was by closing my eyes.

The Dr came in to check me when my antibiotic was done. I was at 9cm. (By the way, that exam was the worst of them all-contractions and exams do not mix!) I had a choice to make: let them break my water or wait for it to break. Either way there was no guarantee when the transition labor would end. Both Dawn and Niki told me it would be best to break my water. I was so scared. Breaking my water meant I was probably moments away from pushing a baby out or that I would stay in transition for a while longer. Either way I didn't like the outcome. I wasn't sure I was ready. I had one more gut ripping contraction and told them to do it.

Within minutes of breaking my water, I told them I had to push. I never understood why woman always said that until that very moment. They told me not to, I wasn't fully dilated, that I still had a centimeter to go. But I begged and begged for them to check again. I screamed that the baby was coming out regardless if I was pushing or not. Finally Dr Tucker checked and sure enough, I was at 10cm and the baby was coming.

Here's the ironic thing about labor. Once you go through that horrific, painful transition labor you get a break only to be told to push. I didn't think I had it in me. I was exhausted and hungry. I finally had a moment where I could breathe and now these crazy people are telling me to push?

But then I got the mother of all contractions...and man did I try to push.

It was a difficult 5 minutes. My back was killing me and my legs were so weak that I couldn't squat like I wanted to. I pushed through it all...I screamed through it all...I found strength in myself I never knew I had. And just when I thought it would never end, everyone in the room yelled "LOOK! MOMMY OPEN YOUR EYES!" Within 5 minutes of pushing I had given birth to a beautiful baby girl. I yelled to Jon "IT'S A GIRL BABY! AW, HONEY, IT'S A BEAUTIFUL GIRL!"

The moment I wanted to share most with my husband was that one. I wanted him to be there when our much anticipated bundle of love came into this world. Having him on Skype was the next best thing. I couldn't see his face when he heard or when he saw her for the first time...all I could see was this gorgeous dark haired creature who looked exactly like her Daddy staring back at me. The most anticipated moment of the last year was finally here.

Emma was born at 7:07pm...it was one of the happiest and most beautiful moments of my life.

This whole deployment I have been terrified of being in the delivery room without Jon. I didn't think I could go through with a natural delivery on my own without having him by my side. I didn't think I could go through labor at all without him there. But I did it with the help of an amazing Doula and an even better friend.

After all was said and done, I was so amazed by myself. I coped through labor with such positivity that it was hard to believe that it was really happening. I found strength in myself I never knew I had. I don't think I could have made it through if it wasn't for my girlfriends support and strength. I will be forever indebted to the them for showing me how to labor gracefully.

...and now for my beautiful littlest girl...

Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?

Being a military family has its privileges. Sometimes I think I forget that there are positive things that can come out of crappy situations. For example, my super surprise today.

The USO is constantly doing things to help military members and their families. They provide support and a place to rest your head at most major airports around the world. They help set up programs like "United Through Reading" for deployed parents so they can record themselves reading books to their children (this is by far my favorite thing). They've even teamed up with Sesame Street to help parents and children learn ways to cope with deployments by providing a special DVD thats perfect even for children as young one year old.

Elmo has been the one character that Lucy has gravitated towards since she was old enough to see. I can remember walking through Babies R Us and her eyes would always pick out the red monster in the picture before anything else. Her first official toy was an Elmo teething toy. When it was lost less then a week after purchasing it, I quickly ran out and found the same toy for her. Needless to say, at two years old she is still in love with him.

So when I came across a random Facebook post this morning that Elmo and Rosita were going to be at the Community Center I knew I had to take Lu. There was nothing published about it anywhere except this one Facebook post. I had my doubts it was true, but I knew if it was I'd regret not going.

So Papa Jim, Lucy and I headed out for a special pizza dinner and checked to make sure the event was still on. Once it was confirmed, I asked Lucy "What do you think about meeting Elmo today?"

Her eyes grew huge, "Elmo? Elmo's World?"

"Yep" I told her.

"Lucy want to meet Elmo Mommy!!!!" was her response with a humongous smile.

After dinner we headed over to meet them. When they came out, Lucy started clapping and said "MOMMY!! ELMO IS WIGHT DAR!!" This phrase was repeated over and over again while Rosita and Elmo sang songs and played games all while Lucy danced around and clapped.

When it came time to take a picture with Elmo, I asked Lucy if she wanted to give Elmo a hug. The little girl who I have found is shy around most new people and situations ran up to him and gave him a big kiss on the mouth. She was in seventh heaven getting to meet her favorite character.

I honestly think we are so fortunate to have events like these. The last couple weeks have been hard on Lucy when it comes to Daddy not being home. She asks more and more if Daddy can please come home from his trip. She misses him lots and we send kisses to Daddy every day, but its not the same as having him walk in the door at the end of the day.

Having a surprise, like meeting Elmo, helps make things a little easier. It takes her mind off the fact that Jon is still gone. Thanks to the USO and our local military community, we have wonderful moments like these to make deployments more bearable. Its silly how a puppet can take a crappy day and turn it into the one of the best nights even I've had in the last 7 months.

my little love story

Five years ago I married my soul mate. It was the same old story; girl gives up on love, meets boy of her dreams and falls madly in love. Our story has many ups and downs the first year of our relationship. But all of those things made us even stronger in the long run. They prepared us for the life we now have and taught me that my husband is more romantic then I ever gave him credit for.

Our first date was a ROTC dining out. It was formal and Jon was the organizer to boot. That meant he was basically in charge of the whole event and we had to sit at the head table, socialize with the guest speaker and his Colonel for the majority of the night. It was a tall order to fill for 2 people who hadn't been on a date together or even alone in the same room before. I won't lie, after he asked me to go with him, I was on a high the whole weekend just thinking about how it was about time we went on date. A year of friendship and flirting was finally paying off!

After months of dating, Jon got orders to DC. It was inevitable he was going to move, but I thought I would be in a place where I wanted to further our relationship. I surprised myself when I realized I wasn't ready to move anywhere and wasn't 100% sure I wanted to maintain a long distance relationship. Because Jon knew the long distance thing was unlikely to work without two fully committed people (he had his doubts too) and me moving was probably a little too soon in our relationship, we broke up. It was the WORST break up I've ever had. I spent days crying thinking that I'd lost the one thing in my life that made sense. Friends tried to reassure me I was making the right choices for myself, but I just couldn't see it.

The night before he left for DC, we talked and I found closure with him. It sounds strange, but when he walked out the door, I knew that I had made the right decision for myself. It doesn't mean it didn't break my heart to see him go, just that I knew it wasn't the right time for us.

Over the next 4 months fate kept intervening in our lives. Even though he was a thousand miles away, somehow fate managed to keep reminding us of each other. From a lost cell phone to our shared friendships it was hard to forget Jon.

That Christmas, my family decided to celebrate in Walt Disney World. Who should decide to meet me there Christmas Eve? Jon. The guy who people thought didn't have a romantic bone in his body drove from school in Alabama to meet me and ask me to move to Washington DC. This guy who I never imagined would feel the same love for me that I felt for him wanted to spend Christmas Eve with me and my family.

The moment I saw him, I knew I wasn't letting him go again. It felt right that we took the break from each other to see how real our feelings were even though that was never the intention. That first hug from him was all I needed to know my life would be forever changed.

I never saw myself as a military wife. I thought I would live in Minnesota forever. I would raise my kids and play with them in same lakes and parks I went to as kid. I didn't think I had the strength in me to move as often as we do or to raise a family without my family nearby. But because of our friendship and love, my husband has shown me that I have so much more in me then I ever imagined. My life is so full of love and happiness, that I can't imagine it any other way. Its obviously not the easiest life when it comes to separations or saying hello/goodbye to new friends every few years. But its our life...and to me that's what matters most.

So to my love, my heart, my everything...Happy Anniversary. Our love story just keeps getting better and better....

Gas anyone?

Oh my goodness...the last week around my house has been filled with noises you think you would only hear in a frat house.

I don't remember my first pregnancy ending with me burping constantly. Its disgusting to be honest with you. I wake up and the first thing I do every morning is sit on the edge of my bed and burp 3 times. Not small lady-like burps, giant I-just-slammed-a-beer burps. Its obnoxious to say the least. But I feel so much better afterward.

I don't know where the gas is coming from. I've been avoiding soda for days now and I'm hardly what you would call a "fast eater". I've even been avoiding my Tums since I know they can cause me to burp. But there it is, the burps you could hear a mile away. Yesterday I was walking Kelly in the woods when I lost control and belched so loudly that you have to call it a belch because burp just isn't sufficient enough.

Lucy thinks its hilarious...she giggles and says "mommy has hiccups" because its never one, usually its two or three at a time. I'm in the process of teaching her manners so I do my best to say "excuse me" after each one, but she thinks its more funny because sometimes the "excuse me" is interrupted by a burp. Attractive right? Now I just have to hope Lucy doesn't learn to burp her ABC's!

Haircuts and good days

I decided today was the day I was going to get Lucy's haircut. I got her an appointment at the salon I go to with a great stylist who knows how to cut curly hair.

I hyped up the haircut talking about how big girl it was and how cool she was going to look. But when we got there, she said, "Mommy cut hair. Lucy not cut hair today". I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I was determined to cut her hair.

Of course, she pulled the crying act until the owner, Sandi, brought out some hair rollers and a super cool pink brush for Lucy to play with. Believe or not, those items beat out the mommy-bribe-sucker.

We cut about 2 inches off. Its crazy because with her curly hair, it almost looks the same length it did before, but I see the difference. I know that pony tails are basically out for a while and that my favorite pig tails are a thing of the past for now. It looks WAY better the it did, healthy and thick. Plus, its a super cute bob.

The best part of the day? Lucy walking out of the salon and saying "Mommy? Best sucker, best day ever!"

The Food War

When I was young and naive, I used to see parents giving in to their children at meal times. I was appalled at the amount of chicken nuggets, french fries or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I saw win the battle over vegetables and fruit. I swore that my kid would never be that way. They would eat what was in front of them or not eat at all. Well, I've since learned sometimes things don't go as you plan.

Lu was always a great eater from the beginning. She ate green vegetables like a champ despite the constant barrage of people telling me she wouldn't. She tried everything at least once before turning up her nose at it. In fact, Lucy hated plain rice cereal. It had to have some flavor for her to eat it. Even when we gave up the Gerber foods, she ate things most kids wouldn't. Asparagus, Sweet Potatoes, Fresh Ravioli, anything that I put on her plate she ate. I was so proud and thought we were on the road to successful eating. Then she turned 2.

The last month has been a war when it comes to Lucy's eating habits. She only wants peanut butter and jelly or french fries. I'm sure I'm partly to blame since I've been cooking meals for 1.5 people every night for the last 6 months. We ended up sharing things like a breast of chicken or slice of pizza. Leftovers became so regular here, that I thought I was going to scream if I had to eat chicken or pasta for 3 days in a row (lunch AND dinner) again. So the giving in came naturally. When I would ask Lucy what she wanted for dinner, I pretty much just made whatever she wanted. I tried to include healthy items, but I guess I was so busy I didn't notice the day she stopped eating vegetables.

The battle got so bad last week that after 30 minutes of crying and fighting with her, I took her dinner away and told her she was done. I felt terrible. In my defense, Lucy would take a bite of her dinner, chew it and then spit it into her hand. Not only is that not appropriate at the table, it was proof she wasn't going to eat. She cried for a pb & j the whole 30 minutes. I knew I had to remain firm, but it was so hard. She hadn't eaten more then a few bites at breakfast and lunch that day, so I knew she had to be at least a little hungry. But I followed through and took the food away, my heart breaking as I poured the chicken into Kelly's food dish.

That night, I asked Jon to help me talk to her via Skype about her eating habits. Even though she kept her head down the whole time and kept trying to change the subject, I knew that having Jon tell her she needed to start eating without crying was getting through to her. Its hard to discipline your kids when your a thousand miles away and on a computer screen, but I hoped she understood what we expected of her.

The next morning, Lucy woke up starving. I didn't give her a choice, and she looked at the oatmeal with wide eyes. As soon as she looked like she was going to cry, she seemed to get a hold of herself and picked up her spoon to begin eating. She ate the whole bowl of cereal and asked for more! I gave her a banana and sent her on her way. I was so excited I didn't have to fight to make her eat that I did a little happy dance in the kitchen.

The war still wages on here, but overall its much better. It looks like Mommy is winning for now. We had a small skirmish about eating chicken last night, but she knew I meant business and the minute that piece of chewed up chicken started to drop into her hand, she decided to put it back and finish swallowing the meat. I was only able to get her to take one bite of chicken, but that's better then before.

Now I understand what all those parents went through and trust me, I get the giving in to chicken nuggets. I'm just hoping I can stop giving in and start teaching her what good eating is again. I know it will help once Daddy comes home for sure. But in the meantime, I have to stick to my guns.

Where have the last 6 months gone?!

I knew when I had kids that someday I would have to start keeping a schedule. Tracking appointments, dance classes, playdates, school events, etc. But I honestly didn't think that when my daughter was 2 years old, I would depend so much on a calendar.

The other day when I was at my OB appointment, they told me it was time to make all my remaining appointments. I looked at the lady dumbfounded and asked "Why in the world would we do that?" She smiled and said, "My dear, you only have 7 weeks left before your due date. At this point we need to see you at least every 1-2 weeks until the baby arrives". I looked at her with what I'm sure was a shocked expression as I came to the realization that my pregnancy is almost over. And then it hit me...my life just got considerably busier.

As I pulled out my IPod to check my calendar so I could make the appointments, I noticed that I have something scheduled nearly every day of the week for Lucy or I. It wasn't exactly easy to make the appointments and despite the frustration of the lady helping me (who kept telling me I should have done this a month ago because it would've been easier), we got it all figured out.

So I went home and started marking up the calendar that I use to use for counting down J's deployment. Now its covered in scribbles that say things like "PICTURE DAY!" or "Lunch Date with XYZ". I've even marked Lucy's school and dance days just so I don't forget (because I actually forgot that Lucy had school this past Tuesday until 8am).

I'm not really a super organized person. I'm the mom who hides the mess in a drawer or closet to be dealt with at a later time (it took 2 years to clean out an Armoire in my living room). When I do manage to find the time, I'm all about organizing clothes by size to be put away and could spend hours buying shelving and Tupperware to straighten up a room. Its just that I always seem to find something better to do. But now with one little angel in school and another on the way, I realized I actually need to become a little more organized.

One of my mommy friends had this great little organizer the last time I saw her. It was bursting at the seams with notes and mail. At the time I thought, thank goodness I don't have to worry about something like that to schedule my days yet. Three weeks later here I am, wondering if I'm missing an appointment or a playdate and wishing I had one of those handy little organizers.

I don't necessarily want my children's lives to be filled with non stop classes and school. To me, play time is essential to mental and physical development. I just have to figure out how I can better manage our time and schedule. I guess I just didn't realize that I would have to "grow up" so soon.

the little things

I spent the last two weeks dealing with lots of stuff. Not only did Kelly have to go to the vet, but Lucy ended up sick on Wednesday night. It was a night of laundry, cuddles and late night movies on the couch while I comforted her. She eventually got over the it but not before getting sick on her bed, my bed and the couch. It was the first time she's ever thrown up (spit ups don't count), which made me realize I need to count my blessings.

Some days I have a hard time seeing how the little things can make up for the one shitty thing that happened that day. Having Kelly cuddle up close or Lucy ask for kisses surely makes up for the fact that my day sucked. I've just had a tough time "seeing" those little things lately.

I feel that I am a positive person. I do my best to surround myself with positive people and thoughts. After the last 6 months, the last thing I need is to be around a person or situation that provokes negativity in my life. That's not to say that I'm not a friend you can come to when you need to talk or that I won't listen to how bad your day/week/month was. Its just that I refuse to let myself be engulfed by someone's negative attitude. Everyone should be able to find positive light in their life. I almost always try to help a friend who is down in the dumps see something amazing about their day/week/life.

I just haven't been able to find that light for myself the last week or so. I know its there...I just don't seem to have the energy to look at it. Its been a tough 2 weeks dealing with my life and the worries that surround it. I'm sure its just the realization that I only have a few weeks until Baby #2 arrives and I don't feel prepared for it yet. Not having my husband here is definitely not the way I pictured having any of my children. Nor is the idea that he is out having dinner with new friends enjoying a new culture while I'm stuck at home changing poopy diapers and essentially attached to my newborn.

Being reminded of how lucky I am to have a wonderful family (even the family far away) is bringing me closer to my positive light. The little things, like the way Lucy smells after a bath or when she helps me clean up the house, are helping me see that light more and more.

I'm grateful that I'll have the support from my Dad that I wouldn't have if he weren't going to be here. I'm grateful for Lucy and her funny little morning routine that includes talking about where all her animals slept last night. I'm grateful for my healthy dog who is in the prime of her life and enjoying every minute of it. I'm grateful for my friends who remind me I'm not alone when I feel the shittest.

Sometimes, I think we just need to see the little things to make the light brighter.

#1 and #2

I feel like I should rename my blog to "Deployments, Pees and Poops". No seriously...in the last 3 days I have been peed on by Lu twice and had my dog poop in my car on the way to the vet. I have never felt so dirty....

The pee incidents were not related to any tantrums. Just an overfull bladder and having too much fun to take a potty break. Unfortunately for me, this meant an accident as I carried her to the bathroom as fast as I could. Thank goodness I have understanding friends with husbands that own big enough shirts to cover the roundness of my belly so I could spend some more quality time with friends on a Saturday night instead of at home folding laundry.

As for the pooping...well I really don't understand what happened there. We were on our way to the Vet (poor Kel has an ear infection in one of her ears) and despite my 10 minute attempt to get her to go to the bathroom before getting in the car, Kelly decided to leave me a surprise.

We were driving down the Autobahn (highway) towards the Vet when I smelled something stinky. I thought it was Kelly's usual toxic fumes and said "Oh my goodness Kelly what did you eat yesterday!?" as I looked in the rear view mirror. It was then I realized Kelly was in her "crunch" mode. She was pooping the back of the Volvo!

I screamed for her to stop which caused her to look at me. If you can picture the face of someone who gets caught doing something and then decides "screw it, she can't get me back here", that's the face my dog gave me. Because I was driving on a stretch of road where going less then 70mph could cause you to be involved in one serious accident, I had to focus on the road.

But the smell...oh my god was the smell was horrid.

There was no where for me to exit for at least 5km so I opened the window because Lucy is in the backseat coughing and saying "Mommy. Stinky Poop." Just an FYI for anyone who this should happen too-NEVER OPEN THE WINDOW!

Opening the window made the smell worse because now it was circulating in the car. Those 5km felt like 100 miles by the time I was able to pull off the highway and get to place where I could get in the back of the car safely. Kelly dropped her head the minute I opened the hatch. Thank God it wasn't one of those messy poops and Kelly didn't walk in it while the car was moving. I pulled Kelly out of the car and cleaned up the mess, then walked her to a grassy area to see if she had to go more.

I'm lucky that we decided to get a liner for the back trunk area to protect the carpet. That meant the poo was easily picked up and wiped down. I have to wash the liner still, but at least I don't have to find a guy to shampoo the carpet. Plus, by wiping it down with a baby wipe, the smell disappeared!

Honestly, I think I've had my fill of pee and poop in the last week. I have gone back to asking Lucy every 30 minutes to go potty and plan to let Kelly out numerous times a day for a while. I just hope Lucy remembers how potty time works when she goes to preschool tomorrow. Now if I can just convince the newest member of our family to come out potty trained, I'll be set.



Oh, and Kelly is fine. She even lost a little weight (couldn't have been the 5lb poop she left behind in the car, right?). The Vet told me we're lucky she's gone this long without an ear infection as its a common thing for bulldogs to endure their whole lives. Now I just have to figure out how I can pin her down to put drops in her ears 2 times a day. I'm sure a peanut butter treat will work wonders in this arena.

Tantrum Central

I've posted before about how we've entered what appears to be the "terrible two's". There are tantrums and then there are TANTRUMS, which I had the lucky pleasure of witnessing for the first time today.

Lucy is a strong willed little girl. She's stubborn and determined. When this kid wants to do something, she will stop at nothing to do it. On the other hand if she doesn't want to do something, she will fight tooth and nail to avoid it. I know as she gets older this will become a wonderful trait for her. She will achieve whatever she sets her mind to and I can't fault her for that. That doesn't mean that I've been ready for what ensued today...in public...at the busiest time of day...in front of the whole base (at least that's how it felt).

We've been doing time outs a lot lately. Lucy has decided that anything she touches is "Lucy's toy/bike/pool/park/etc". It makes for a great learning lesson on sharing, but usually has a time out attached to it. While at the KMCC (its like a mall here for us military people) Lucy was playing at the indoor playground and refused to let her BFF, Rori, play on a toy with her. After attempting to get her to share with no success, she got a time out. This time out included a shoe removal by her, which she has learned drives me bananas.

After learning to share with Rori, they played for a while and we decided it was time for lunch. Lunch at the food court is always a treat for both of us. Lucy was excited as we walked to order chicken "nuggies" at her favorite restaurant. Out of nowhere she stops and starts SCREAMING. I turn around and ask her, "Lucy-What is wrong?" After trying to coax her to come closer to me, she refuses and begins to throw an all out TANTRUM right there on the floor.

Oh my goodness, the stares she was getting. At first people giggled a little, "how cute? She's so dramatic" they were all thinking as they smiled at me. I knew better...this was not going to end pretty.

I walked over to her, asked her why she was crying. She got very angry at this point, so I put her in a time out. Oh my, did that make things worse. Now she is yanking, literally YANKING off her shoes and throwing them across the floor. Instead of picking them up, I leave them where they are. I figure part of her punishment will be picking up her shoes. The next thing I know she's reaching into my purse and looking for more stuff to throw.

I know...WHAT THE HECK?!

I pull my purse away and she appears to be calming down. I ask her if she wants lunch? Her answer: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
as loud as she can possibly scream. Now the stares of "oh how cute!" have turned into "what the hell is that lady doing to her kid?!" As embarassed as I am, I bend down and tell her, quietly "you either need to calm down so we can go get lunch or we are going home. Please relax sweetie"

um yeah...that did not work. She decides to hit me.

This is clearly unacceptable. I tell her so, pick her up and tell her we are saying good bye to her friend and going home. Obviously this was met with serious protest. She began to hit and scratch me as we went to say good bye. We walk outside and she starts to calm down. I consider for a brief second that maybe we can go back. Then she does the most awful thing a 2 year old can do. The one thing she has control over and knows it.

She pees on me.

PEES ON ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Of course she thinks this will get her back in the mall/KMCC because we'll have to change her pants. No way Jose, I told her. I marched her right to the car and changed her into new underwear and pants. Man was she mad...she begged and begged to go back. I told her "No way little monkey, I am cover in PEE! PEE!!!" As I received more stares and scowls from people in the parking lot at our heated battle outside the car, I thought I was going to lose it.

We got in the car, drove home and she went right down to her room for some cooling off time. Because, ladies and gentlemen, this 2 year old cried the whole 15 minute car ride home. She kicked the seats, threw toys around the car and cried the whole way home.

I told her she needed 5 minutes of alone time while I cleaned up and changed clothes. By the time I came back to check on her, she was asleep. Obviously the 30 minute tantrum had taken its toll on her.

I let her nap and decided it was better for both of us. I ate my lunch in peace, she rested and got over whatever was bothering her.

When she woke up an hour and a half later, we tried to talk. I still don't know what it was the set her off. But I made sure she understood that it was unacceptable behavior and it would not happen again. She said she was sorry without any prompting and we proceeded to have a much better afternoon.

Honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do if she starts to urinate on herself when she wants her way. I know her school won't deal with it well and I certainly won't either. If anyone has any idea on how to stop her from doing that, I'd love to hear them. I can handle tantrums, even TANTRUMS, but I can't handle the peeing thing.

I love her dearly and keep telling myself that her strong will is something that will help her succeed in life. But oh my goodness do I hope the terrible twos end soon......

Day who cares anymore?

The light at the end of the tunnel just got pushed further away.

So we found out Jon is definitely headed to his final duty station- 25 days before his 6 month tour was supposed to end. Now we have no idea when he'll be home. I spent the last 12 hours upset about it and hating deployments/all things military. But as the night wore on I came to the realization this is the life we chose.

I think the part that I'm so angry about isn't that he won't be here for the birth or that he won't get to take Lucy to her first day of school. I'm angry because I saw an end in sight. Raising a 2 year old on your own every day is exhausting. Top that with a pregnancy and its doubly tiring. I kept telling myself "only a few more weeks" when things got tough the last few days. Now I have no idea when he'll be here to help out. I don't even know if he'll be back in time for Christmas.

I want to feel bad for the person who he's replacing. She's a mom too and has been away from her little one for a year. But I don't. Its selfish, but I don't care that she's missed birthdays and holidays. I don't want my husband to miss 3 birthdays, our 5 yr anniversary, the birth of our child, Thanksgiving and Christmas. We didn't expect the deployment to last this long which is why I'm having a tough time with it.

I'm fortunate enough to have one of my parents come out here to help out in a few weeks. Ideally its not the situation I want. If they come out here now, they won't be able to come visit in the Spring when everything is beautiful and I'll be able to actually go places. I'm still grateful that I have someone coming because I honestly don't know if I could handle all of this on my own right now. I have a great network of friends, but having someone here in the house is going to make a huge difference in my day to day life.

So for the next few days I'm going to do my best to be positive. There's a huge mix of emotions going on inside me right now, the largest of which is anger. I'm sure that will change to a new emotion in the next day or so, but for now I feel the need to scream, cry and punch a pillow.

Day 148

This week we started the I'm-a-big-girl-and-can-make-my-own-decisions stage. I've been encouraging her to make choices lately when it comes to lots of things, but I wasn't prepared for her to start choosing her own clothes.

My first real experience with it was last Tuesday when I picked out her outfit for the day. As soon as I brought it upstairs to her, she said "No Mommy! Pink shirt pwease" which sent me back downstairs to get her a pink shirt. Then as we are getting ready to walk out the door to do a few errands she demands to wear rain boots...on a sunny day...when the temperature outside at 9am was already hot. I begged her to wear tennis shoes since we were headed out to playdate after errands. Nope, she was set on wearing those darn rain boots. Instead of arguing with her, I decided to pack another pair of shoes because inevitably she would want to take the rain boots off to play at some point.

This girl is stubborn.

Not only did she not take off her rain boots ALL DAY, she wanted to wear them to bed at nap time. I had to draw the line somewhere right? It was 10 minutes of crying before I got those boots off her. As I walked out of her room, I thought to myself "Its just one of those things, she likes her rain boots." I was kidding myself.

Since Tuesday, we've had to pick out her clothing together. I only give her 2 choices and let her decide which one she likes best. This has included a tutu, hair bows on her shirt, and socks that don't match, but hey, she's only 2. The only time I let her truly decide her own clothing is at bed time when she can choose which pajamas she wants to wear.

Tonight she wanted to wear her new pink Tutu to bed. She also wanted to wear a necklace and some hair bows in her hair. I let her wear the tutu, but convinced her that a necklace and hair bow would be uncomfortable. She was so excited to wear the tutu she completely forgot about the rest. This is how happy she was:



Its funny how at 2 years old, children start to really develop their personality. Lucy has always been very girly, but even more so the older she gets. She literally "flits" when she runs and doesn't like things to get dirty. She hates when her shirt gets food on it or when her hands are covered in dirt. She also has a slight OCD personality when it comes to things like her bedroom. Everything has its place and if one things moves, for instance her Daddy pillow, a complete meltdown ensues until everything is back where it belongs. I can't even begin to imagine how she's going to be as she grows older...my little angel is growing up to fast.

Day 142

Last night I watched a documentary called "The Business of Being Born". I watched it for 2 reasons: 1-Morbid fascination of what is to come in a few months and 2-I've been re-evaluating my birth plan and wanted to explore the option of a natural birth. This documentary doesn't show a lot of actual births, but there are a few. Mainly it discusses home births and statistics as to why its better then a hospital birth. There was enough information to make me wonder what happened exactly when I had Lucy.

The reason I'm exploring a new birth plan is because with Lucy, I had a difficult time delivering. I never felt a thing until that last moment before she took her first breath. My epidural was so strong that I never felt the urge to push despite the fact they turned it off 2 hours before I started pushing and I pushed for over 2 more hours. So that's a total of 4 hours I never really felt anything from the waist down. It took forever for the medication to wear off and I didn't leave Labor and Delivery until almost 5 hours later (because it took that long for me to be able to walk or stand).

It wasn't necessarily that I had a bad experience. It was just that I didn't really enjoy the whole not feeling my legs for hours after birth and how difficult pushing was for me. My Midwife, the nurse and Jon made the experience exactly how I wanted it-no one yelling (well, except me) and peaceful overall.

"The Business of Being Born" did open my eyes to a few things I was unaware of. For instance, the maternity death rate in America is #2 among developed countries. NUMBER 2!! This is attributed to the high rate of C-sections and lack of delivery without intervention. When I say "intervention" I'm talking about drugs.

I also did not know that 90% of women who receive an epidural also receive Pitocin. Its a never ending cycle: starting an epidural means contractions and/or progress slow therefore creating the necessity of Pitocin to increase the contractions and progress. This means more pain for the mom, so they increase the epidural and so on and so on. In the end, this creates a much higher need for a C-Section because the natural birth process is delayed due to the drug intervention. This creates the higher level of C-sections in hospitals.

The documentary goes on to talk about how birthing has changed over the last hundred years from home births to hospital births that included being so drugged you couldn't control yourself to drug intervention to the increased rate in C-sections. They even talked about how something as simple as the position a woman gives birth in changed. It was terrifying at times. To think that a process that is so natural and normal has become so clinical and less about what the mother needs.

I'm not saying that choosing drugs or needing a cesarean make anyone a bad parent. I know that I'm always the first person to trust and believe a Doctor when they tell me what will be best. But I didn't know anything about pain relief besides an epidural and I knew nothing about the best birthing positions. I had no idea that being on my back was the worst way to deliver. I just assumed after seeing birthing videos and what they show on television that being on your back was the easy way to get a baby out.

So this time around I'm making different choices. I'm reading more about my options and asking my husband (who I hope will be in attendance) to do the same. If I choose to go the natural birth route, I will definitely need his unconditional support. I'm also not naive enough to think everything is going to go according to plan. I also don't know if I'm going to make it through a natural birth without giving in and getting some sort of pain relief.

One of the things I'm learning through this research is that hospitals rarely allow for the techniques suggested (ie. water birth, constant walking, acupuncture, birthing ball) for a natural, drug free birth. I know for a fact that the hospital I plan to deliver at does not allow water births. This does not mean that I want to have the baby at home. The idea of a home birth still scares me. But I do know that I'll be able to labor longer at home in a place where I feel relaxed and comfortable versus sitting in a hospital bed hooked up to 5 different monitors.

My overall review of the documentary was that it was worth watching. I learned the things I want to happen during labor and after birth. A lot of what I'm looking for I don't know is possible in the hospital I have to deliver. I plan to talk to my Midwife Monday morning about a few things just so I have my expectations in order. She delivered Lucy and I'm hoping she'll be able to deliver this little one. She was so encouraging and despite a Dr coming in to tell her it was taking to long to get the baby, she pushed me on. No intervention (besides the drugs) necessary.

I'm sure I'll post my birth story at some point. But for now, I'm going to continue to do research and discover the best options for me.

Day 131

Waiting...it seems like you spend so much of life waiting. You wait in lines all day, whether you're at the Dr.'s office or cooking dinner. Everyone ends up waiting for something.

Today I'm waiting on a lot of things. My Uncle is having surgery at Mayo Clinic and unfortunately, my brother was sent down there for an emergency appointment this morning for his own health. Its ironic they are there at the same time for *hopefully* different things, but in a way its good. They are both very close and any news, good or bad, will make it easier to share knowing the other is within a few minutes walk.

I'm also playing the waiting game on my husbands deployment status. I let myself mistakenly start counting the weeks until his arrival home, only to be told that he may finally be heading to his original deployment job. Sadly this means he may not be home for a very long time. I have to lean more on the side of him not being home until Christmas or later just so I'm not let down when the news finally comes.

This is the way of military life. I don't have as bad as many other branches of the military-that I am keenly aware of. I've stated before that I can't imagine what it must be like to not know anything about your spouses location or when the next phone call will be. I'm fortunate in that aspect. But the new location isn't exactly the safest place in the world and his traveling to and from work every day is what terrifies me most. He's been trained to deal with bad situations, but there are some things you just can't be ready for no matter what you've read or learned.

So I will sit here and wait...and hope that my optimism will pay off. I hope my brother and Uncle are finally getting answers they need to hear and that Jon is going to be home before Christmas.

Day 125

WARNING: this is a possibly one of the grossest blogs I'll ever write. You've been warned.

So today started out great. We ate a good breakfast, got Jon's license plates renewed, headed to the pool and took a long nap. Overall an awesome day. Except for one thing...

Lucy has been trying to go poop for 2 days now. I finally got her to go a little at the pool which earned her some delicious chocolate. She was so proud of going on the potty at the pool. Since we usually only get about one poop a day, I figured we were golden until tomorrow.

When she woke up from her nap, she kept asking to go "poopy". Since she usually mixes them up, I wasn't concerned and we went to the potty every time. It seemed strange that she was passing gas every time she went potty. But I chalked it up to being just that: gassy.

After dinner I was cleaning the kitchen when I looked over at Lucy and she said "Mommy? potty?" in the tiniest voice I've ever heard from her and then she bent over like she was pooping. I told her "Stop pooping! Quick! Get to the bathroom!" but by then, it was too late.

Now, Lucy isn't perfect with the potty training and I've clean poops out of her underwear a few times now. I figured this was no different. But as I followed her into the bathroom, my foot slipped in something. I looked down and thought, "What the heck is THAT?" only to realize too late what it was.

Lucy had diarrhea.

She was pretty upset so I was being as gentle and careful as I could as I slowly tried to peel her underwear off her. Thank goodness she was wearing a dress today. I got the underwear off her and thought, like any first time mommy dealing with diarrhea, that I would be able to contain the mess in her underwear. It was then that the dogs, yes all three of them (did I forget to mention I'm dog-sitting for 2 dogs plus my own this week?) came running in curious as to what that delicious smell was.

I yell for the dogs to stop, but man that smell must have been intoxicating to them. They swarmed in around the toilet and Lucy just as I was getting her situated on the potty so I could clean up and let her finish. It was at that moment that the mess fell out of the underwear and went SPLAT on the floor, on my feet, on the wall, on the potty, everywhere. Oh my god the gagging...

So picture this: me gagging, Lucy crying, dogs sniffing and attempting to lick whatever is on the floor that appears to be the most wonderful surprise dessert and tears beginning to fill my eyes from the smell. I don't know if it was my insane sense of smell because of the pregnancy, but yes it was that bad. I yelled at the dogs to leave the bathroom and I must have sounded scary, because they ran out quickly with their tails between their legs. I cleaned everyone and every thing up. In all, it was the longest, most disgusting 5 minutes of my life.

And that is reason #1025 why I wish Jon was still here to share in the joys of potty training a toddler...why is that he misses all the good stuff?

Day 123

One of the most hilarious things I've encountered as a mom has recently started happening. Its really kind of obnoxious if an adult does it, but when a 2 year old talks in the third person I can't help but giggle every time.

Over the last few weeks Lucy started calling herself "woocy". Instead of saying things like "I want to a snack" or "I went to the potty" its "Woocy wants snack!" and "Woocy go big girl potty". It is one of the most enduring things she does right now. I correct her about 50% of the time because I find it so funny.

I can't believe that 3 months ago, she was barely putting together sentences and now she can talk as well as me sometimes. It takes a little listening to understand her when she gets excited, but overall you can make out a pretty big portion of what she's saying and she says a lot. Hmmmmm...I wonder where she gets her talking skills from?

Day 119

Sometimes one of hardest things about being pregnant is what you see when you look in the mirror. It doesn't matter if this person tells you how good you look or how that person tells you how you wouldn't look pregnant if it wasn't for that giant basketball you have for tummy. Its all in how you perceive what you look like.

Today I got out of the shower and caught a brief glimpse of myself. It shocked me. The leg muscles I used to be proud of were no longer there. The strong arms that got me compliments turning into masses of flab. And worst of all, the abdominal muscles that I worked on for 2 years were officially gone. Granted, I wasn't a bikini model by any means, but I was finally starting to feel good about how I looked before I became pregnant.

Over the last few months, I've been obsessing over the weight I gain. Every time I step on the scale I think about how much weight I'm going to have to lose after this baby comes. It drives my family crazy. I'm constantly talking about how nervous I am that I won't lose the weight. Has it stopped me from picking up a bag of Honey Mustard and Onion pretzels? No. And that seems to be my problem.

When I'm alone I indulge. I eat the things I probably should avoid, but its as if I have no willpower when there's no one around to see me. The not-so-great-for-you snack food wouldn't be an issue if I was exercising. But at the beginning of my pregnancy I would get so sick when my heart rate increased that I couldn't do anything at all. I went from 1 hour of cardio and yoga three times a week plus walking the dog every day with a toddler on my back to nada. Nothing. Zilch.

When the morning sickness finally went away, I had a hard time getting back into the flow. I found excuses all the time to not walk the dog. I found a reason not to go to the gym on base. After a few months when I finally decided it was time to get off my ass, I found out I couldn't exercise the way I wanted. Unfortunately for me, my body started saying "if you want to have an uncomplicated pregnancy, you need to stop all this stressful activity NOW".

I found that I am able to walk, even the tough incline walks in my neighborhood that require every ounce of energy I have some days. But its not enough. I feel better about myself on the days when I do walk, but I hate that I can't do the things I was able to do when I was pregnant with Lucy. I can't walk for an hour and not feel like my legs are going to fall off anymore. And it sucks. It really, really, REALLY sucks.

So it was inevitable that my body would start showing the effects of my eating and lack of exercise. Am I at an unhealthy weight? No. My midwife told me she's not concerned about my weight at all, that I'm healthy and I still can gain 13lbs before she'll be concerned. But it didn't make me feel better. The only thing that would make me feel a little better is having my husband tell me I'm beautiful despite my growing assets. And sadly, he's not here to do that.

I'm sure there are women out there who have high self esteem and could care less what they look like while they are pregnant. They don't see the dimpled thighs or chunky hips. Those are the same women who embrace being pregnant. I was that woman the first time. But with this pregnancy, I can't seem to find the beauty in the ways my body is changing. I can't enjoy the pregnancy the way I did with Lucy.

The more I think about it, the more I believe its because I don't have anyone to share it with. Sure I have friends who want to feel the baby moving and Lucy loves to kiss the baby and play games. But what I really want is to have Daddy here to see his face light up when the baby kicks. I want someone to be excited with me every time I hear that heartbeat pounding away. It really stinks to do this alone. I know my husband was happy that he got to miss all the hormone induced mood swings, but I wonder sometimes if he forgot about how all that other stuff outweighs my random bouts of crying and frustration.

So for now, I've moved the full length mirror to a safer location where I'm less likely to throw something at it. The next step is finding the joy and beauty in whats happening to me. This is the last time I'll be pregnant so I need to learn to savor every minute. But trust me...its going to take a little more time for that.

Day 114

First of all-I can't believe its been almost 4 months since Jon left. There are times when it feels like he's been gone for much longer then that. But overall, I think now that we've settled into a routine, things are getting better.

Only one little quick story to share this post. Lucy has become increasingly interested in the baby lately. She lifts up my shirt (or tries to pull it down) at random times and says "Hi baby!". But the funniest part about this is that Lucy seems to think that somehow my belly button is the best way to talk to, play with and see the baby. The other morning she put her eye up to my belly button and said "Hi baby. WAKE UP!" which make me laugh for a while. I still laugh when I think about it.

She also decided that tickling my belly button is how she is supposed to play with the baby. Everyday I've had to endure "tickle, tickle, tickle baby!" for the last week. While its a little uncomfortable to have her stick her finger in my belly, its sweet how she already wants to play with her new little sibling. Hopefully she'll feel the same way once he/she is here!

Day 104

Being a stay at home mom overseas is tough during the summer (insert laughter from anyone who's talked to me the last 2 summers here in Germany). In order to stay cool on those hot summer days, I have no choice to but to head to the local German pool, Azur.

People, this is not your ordinary pool at least by American standards of an outdoor pool. There is a total of 4 outdoor pools, 2 water slides (one inside, one outside), diving boards, a playground outside, three indoor pools, a hot tub AND a sauna. They even have a solarium where you can absorb the warmth of the sun on those to-cold-to-lay-outside days (including the winter!). The best part is they have amazing baby and toddler pools. And when I say amazing, I mean waterfalls, slides, and a covered outdoor pool. Its like having my own little water park 15 minutes away for far cheaper then anything in the states. Only one of the outdoor pools is heated, but that is a normal occurrence in Europe. The sun does all the work. They even serve alcohol at the pool!!!! Can you imagine the uproar that would cause at a public stateside pool snack bar? So needless to say, you know where to find me almost any hot day during the summer.

The best part is that I have a great group of girlfriends who join me every time I go. We stake out a little corner by the kids pool and make it our own little home. The kids run around, we bring lunch for picnics, and just hang out enjoying the sun and water. One husband has even called us "pool bums" we've been there so much in the last week.


Do I feel guilty that I'm at the pool when I should be doing other things like clean the house? Heck no! But I do feel bad that I can't bring Kelly. Poor girl has to suffer in the heat of the house by herself. She loved the Mediterranean Sea when we lived in Turkey. Jon and I would take her out there after dinner and let her play in the surf. She never went far because English Bulldogs can't technically swim (their weight drags them down) but she loved cooling off in the water. But other then Kelly, I don't really feel guilty. I'm enjoying this time with my little girl and our friends.

This last week has been H-O-T by German standards. Its been over 80 every day without a cloud in the sky and there is currently no sign of it breaking. For most people 80 degree days don't sound so bad, but those people likely have air conditioning. Since its not normally this hot for this long here, air conditioning is a luxury. I have yet to hear of central AC in any of the houses, but some people have portable or window air conditioners. So when the heat starts and doesn't break (even at night) everyone gets out of the house, including myself and my girlfriends.

Lucy loves the pool. There is not better place to her then being in the water. She learned how to swim last summer with her water wings and couldn't wait to try it again outside this summer. In the last 2 days she's become quite the little dare devil. She's swimming further out and trying to jump in the pool. She's even started dunking her head a bit, but she's not quite ready for that. I'm always amazed at how much she swims and for how long. I love seeing her smiling face and hearing her giggles as she splashes around. Plus, it wears her out so she sleeps for hours during nap time.

Today I realized how much I wish Jon was here to see Lucy swimming. Its hard to videotape when you are the one she's swimming with so it makes it difficult to share with him. I know he would be teasing me every morning this last week about how rough my life is spending the day at the pool. It was a regular conversation last August when we had our last heat wave of summer. But really, who doesn't want to be a kid again, heading to the pool every day during the summer break?

Day 101

I've learned to appreciate what its like to be a single parent, to be the only one your child can depend on for anything. I can't say I like it.

We're on day 3 of random crying in the Carter house after a 2 day break of crying regularly the week before. I'm not sure why Lucy cries so much or what to do to make it better. She just starts crying and won't stop. Sometimes I wonder if her heart aches like mine missing her Daddy. Sometimes I wonder if she's just doing it for attention. But what I do know that I'm having a tough time with it. I have never been able to handle constant crying from any child, even my own. Once you start to hit the 24 hour mark of regular intervals of crying, I start to get upset myself.

Case in point, Lucy's second night in this world. We were at the hospital and it was just the two of us. Lucy started crying randomly earlier in the day, but it wasn't so tough because Jon or my parents were there to help me out. But once night came and we were all alone, she really started to cry. After 4 hours of crying, I called in the nurse who told me there wasn't anything he could do. Lucy had to stay with me at all times regardless of the situation. I begged him for a break, even just for 30 minutes so I could try and get some rest. He told me no again and left the room (that was when I started to have serious loathing for the mother and baby nurses at Landstuhl). I was sure it was because Lucy was hungry since my milk hadn't fully come in, but I didn't feel there was any other option then nursing her (reason #2 I became resentful of the Landstuhl nurses who never once offered formula). Anyways, after 5+ hours of crying Lucy finally went to sleep. I tried to as well. But less then an hour later I was up again, trying to soothe her. I was starting to feel like a failure to her after only 48 hours. By the time Jon came to the hospital in the morning, I was in tears. He took her from me and told me to sleep. It was that moment that I became grateful that I wasn't going to have to do this alone. It also meant that no matter how much I felt I failed as a parent, there would always be someone to help me out that wasn't failing.

So now we're two years in and I feel like I'm back to that second night. Only this time, I don't have anyone else to back me up when I start to feel that dread of failure. When things are at their worst, I've been trying to ignore the screaming and crying. But as any parent knows, the sound doesn't go away. Its still there, eating away at that last nerve. I'm lucky to have friends who are willing to help me out. But that doesn't mean I don't feel like I'm the one doing something wrong all the times I don't have my friends here.

Its almost like an unspoken emotion among parents. No one wants to admit that they need help when they feel like pulling their hair out. Believe me, I've seen lots of moms go through deployments or just being single parents and rarely has anyone talked about the frustrations of dealing with issues on their own. I certainly didn't want to admit it and still have a tough time doing it. But there comes a time when you need to step back, take a break and accept the generous offerings of your friends and family. There is no fault in admitting you can't do it alone.

I'm hoping tomorrow brings an easier day. I'll get a break for a few hours in the morning and I'm using that time to do something for me.

Day 97

**this is a picture of Lucy sleeping with her Daddy Doll**

Well, we're at the point of what should be the halfway mark for number of scheduled days for the deployment. As with every deployment, the number of days are never exact, just an estimate. But as each day passes I find myself grateful that I am one day closer to having Jon back at home.

I've had a few...how should I put this?...tough moments. I spent a few days on edge at the thought that I'll be lucky if he's home before Christmas. It affected everything, including Lucy. I was sick to my stomach, Lucy was cranky and I felt like crying every time I thought about him. After chatting about it with Jon and friends, I realized that I was being ridiculous. I have to remain positive about him coming home every moment. If I don't, I'm causing too much stress on myself and Lucy. It got pretty bad for a while, but it helped having people to talk to and who helped encourage me to remain optimistic. There have been many things in my life the last few years that I didn't think I could make it through and I always did. My husband was sweet enough to point out that I always think I can't do things, when in fact I can and do. Some days I don't know where I'd be without his unfailing encouragement.

Lucy has been handling the deployment well so far. She has her breakdowns and cries for Daddy. In fact, for 3 or 4 nights this week she was hysterical about bath time. She kicked and screamed until I finally got her to tell me last night why she didn't want to take one. Turns out she wanted Daddy to give her bath. While it broke my heart a little to have her tell me that she didn't want me, it brought tears to my eyes that she remembers that bath time was always Lucy and Daddy time. I assured her that when he got home he would give her lots of baths and would read her all her favorite books. It must have helped because tonight she didn't fuss about her bath.

She also started paying more attention to her "Daddy Doll". Its a gift from Jon that he had made before he left. Its a picture of Jon in his uniform in the form of a stuffed doll. Now before nap and bed time, we have to make sure we give Daddy a kiss and hug. The doll must always remain on Lucy's bed however. If we try putting it on the chair or it falls on the floor, its the end of the world. A little note for Daddy: we play kissy monster with it all the time. Daddy gets Mommy, Kelly, Lucy and bullie every night. It makes her giggle more then anything when Daddy gets Kelly :)

So I guess the deployment has affected each of us in a different way. I decided to stop looking at things as halfway there or count the days until he comes home. I just count each day as one day closer to see Jon and one day closer to my family reuniting (hopefully with one newcomer waiting until we are all here!).

Day 88

Today was one of those awesome days. It started with a late Dr appointment where I met yet another new Dr and found out that baby is doing wonderful. A little on the large side, but doing great. Luckily for me, the only person who knows the sex is the sonogram technician so I don't have to worry about someone slipping up and telling at another appointment. They are checking my platelets and iron levels for a few different reasons, but I'm confident that all is well.

Then Lucy and I had a lunch date. I'm doing my best to enjoy this alone time with her. At the beginning of the deployment it was so frustrating that she depended on me for everything, but then I started to realize that I'll never have this time with her again. My sister reminded me of that on one of those days when I was at my lowest and now I make sure to enjoy all these moments with her regardless of how frustrating or happy they may be. We will only be at this place in our lives once.

After naps for both of us (this baby is draining the energy out of me!) we went on a nice walk with Kelly. The weather was so beautiful and I knew we all needed to enjoy at least one more walk in the woods before I couldn't do it anymore (the stroller doesn't work well on hikes-haha). It was so quiet today, all I heard were the birds and the soft rustle of leaves. It was so calming and refreshing. I walked slowly and took it all in wishing Jon was here to enjoy the walk with us.

Before the day was through, we had a friend visit at the last minute to mow the lawn. One more thing I am so grateful for this summer. Its amazing how much people will help you out in times of need. Sometimes its not even a person you know well, but knows you are in a tough spot. Any time someone comes over to mow the ski slope that we call a backyard, I am thankful. I can't begin to imagine how difficult it must be and yet the same people keep coming back to help. Today our friend got it done in 30 minutes-I'm pretty sure that's a record for this yard!

All in all in was great day. If I've learned anything in the last three months, its that you need to remember to be appreciative of the little things in life. There is nothing like a good friend to lean on in your time of need. I am so grateful for each and every one of them.

Day 84

Last night was one of the worst nights of sleep I've had in a while.

I was exhausted and headed to bed at 10pm. I started falling asleep 5 minutes after reading so I turned out the lights and curled up with Kelly, our bulldog. It was a super humid night so I had windows open all over the house and a fan going in my room. Forty minutes later, I wake up to this insane howling sound. Kelly is growling and the sky is lighting up like nothing I've ever seen. It was like there were flashbulbs going off outside my window. The next thing I hear is my patio furniture (on the upstairs deck) start flying across the patio. I have a recycling trash can outside so I open the door to bring it in. It was already tipped over and as I was picking up the pieces, the rain started. The lightening was pretty intense, so I quickly grabbed the trash can pieces and started to rush back in the house only to be blown forward by a huge gust of wind.

I was freaked out. I didn't think Germany ever got tornadoes, but it sure felt like one was coming. Suddenly the wind was whipping all around me so fast it hurt (in a matter of milliseconds) and I rushed into the house. It was at that time I heard my car alarm going off. I rushed to find my keys and hoped that nothing landed on the car causing it to go off (its really not that sensitive). I tried opening the front door to go out and turn off the alarm, but then I heard banging on the door. Not like someone was trying to get in, but more like someone was shooting rocks at it. I peeked out the kitchen window and saw the street and my lawn were covered in hail. It was pelting the door so hard I was afraid I would get hurt if I opened it. I managed to get the car alarm off from inside the house and rushed downstairs.

Kelly was panicking along with me, but more because she was scared I think. She followed me around the house and ran downstairs before I did. Lucy was still sleeping when the thunder started. It seriously sounded like it was in my house. Everything was shaking with every pounding. I had to close the rolladens (metal/plastic covers for the windows/doors) in the basement just in case my downstairs lawn furniture was flying around. As I was closing it two things happened. One, I realized 2 of my outdoor chairs were missing. Two, the wind was so forceful it was trying to blow open the door to my outside patio. I had to hold it closed with one hand and my foot while I rolled down the rolladen. It was scary. I couldn't even see 4 feet in front of me the wind, rain and hail were so bad.

We lost power just minutes after that and I sat downstairs with a candle waiting for the storm to be over. Lucy, of course, was still sleeping despite the amount of noise in the house.

Ten minutes later the wind calmed down, five minutes after that the hail stopped. It was still raining quite a bit and there was still lots of lightening, but it appeared safe. I opened the rolladens and looked outside to see my yard looked like it was covered in snow. The lawn furniture was still missing, but it was too dark to really look for it.

I headed upstairs and hoped that car was ok. I could see the lights flashing from the alarm on the car again and opened the door to turn it off. The front yard was the same as the back, only it was flooded with water all the way across the street. The power came back on and I was able to go out and examine the car. I couldn't see if anything significant fell on it, but I didn't see any damage. I went back inside and tried to fall asleep. I was woken up 3 more times by storms. At least the house cooled off! It was finally nice enough to sleep at night!

The storm really had me missing Jon. I know it sounds silly, but I was terrified. All I kept thinking about was what if the windows break? What if something falls on the house? What if something happens to Lucy, Kelly and I? How will Jon find out?

It does turn out that Germany gets tornadoes. In fact, there are studies that Europe has more tornadoes then the US, they just aren't nearly as powerful. Because of the European landscape, tornadoes don't have a lot of area to build up strength. But they do exist here. There was even one in Kaiserslautern in the last 5 years. The reason you don't hear about them is because they aren't very powerful (no one has seen one over an F3 in all of Europe) so the damage isn't as bad and sometimes they only touch down for seconds and people don't see them. I also learned that Europe doesn't have a Dopplar system. In the US, they use this to predict and warn people of the coming weather and possible tornadoes. Its a little scary to think about, but at least I know the chances of it being "bad" are slim.

It sounds like not everyone in the KMC (Kaiserslautern Military Community) had it as bad as I did, but there are plenty that did. Thank goodness we're all ok and no one seems to have suffered any significant damage other then flooding. I was able to find all of our lawn furniture. The two missing chairs were in the yard, one all the way down at the bottom of our hill. I lost a few bubble toys of Lucys, but nothing that isn't easily replaced. Now can Mother Nature please stop with the storms? I think I've had my fill for the summer.