No Love For the Blog

Poor blog, dying the slow death.  Let's see if we can resuscitate it.   I don't even remember what was happening when the posts dried up.  Let's see . . .

Oh, yes.  Personal make-overs, projects, and fan art.  Now for some quick updates.

(1)    The personal makeover is still in effect, though I've gone through several different tattoo designs by now and ended up hating them all.  Nothing is really wrong with them, but I can't decide where I would put them.  So now the focus is just working out and losing twenty pounds.  Seems feasible.  Unfortunately we weren't able to move to the better apartment with gym facilities, so getting to the gym on base requires setting aside at least a three-hour chunk of time, which the little poodle doesn't appreciate.  It basically burns all the crate time for the day, making errand-running hard to schedule.  After about a month of putting in these gym trips, I lost five pounds, but gained four back over the Easter weekend.  This resulted in a personal ban on milk chocolate.  Currently down two pounds of the four, for a total of three pounds lost.

(2)    Projects!  There are too many of them.  I find myself trying to prepare jewelry and stockings for both private commissions and craft shows, as well as using up lots of hoarded papercrafting supplies for personal projects and special requests.  At some point, I also decided to experiment with a hideous old piece of furniture my family knows as "the Elliot table."  Rather than chucking it in the dumpster, I decided to sand it down and see if I liked it any better naked.  I had no idea how long it would take to sand down a little side table and how many freaking sanding blocks I would burn through.  Fortunately I found said sanding blocks for $0.49/each at the salvage store.  Now I'm that crazy person who spends hours on the patio making horrible scraping sounds.

(3)    Took a time-out day yesterday to unwind and write fanfiction.  I have several stories running, two in various stages of publication, but I actually managed to churn out a whole page of new text for the one my husband is collaborating on.  First chapters are always hardest for me.  I'd rather get on to the good stuff.

(4)    Health updates.  After lots of drama and phone tag and scheduling snafus, I managed to get in for a hysterosonogram ordered by my OBGYN.  They didn't find anything incredibly interesting, but saw enough to determine that I do not in fact have a true bicornuate uterus, but only a partial septate uterus.  The plan now is to burn (or scrape?) the septum out in the hopes that it plus a progesterone treatment will increase the odds of a successful pregnancy.  I don't really have a lot of hope for it, but I'm willing to give it a try.  Frankly, they could destroy my uterus, and I would probably thank them.  The only thing that gives me the jeebies is their plan to put a camera through my bellybutton.  Yikes.

(5)    Doggie updates.  Andy continues to be nervous and anti-social around other dogs, but we keep taking her to Puppy Playtime at PetCo twice a week, hoping for a different result.  If the trainers just let me into the enclosure with her, we seem to see some results.  Despite being only nine pounds, she has no time for little dogs, but has perked up for a Great Dane and a Rottweiler named Valkyrie.

(6)     Debt report.  Ever since we committed to a puppy (who is now one year old and a Big Doggie at heart), overpaying the debt has been almost impossible.  The financial drain was quick and incredible.  However, after six months of minimum payments, I think we've made at least the beginning of a healthy recovery, especially since the little princess doesn't have vet appointments every two weeks.  We may even start overpaying again, except that now the older car is having a diva day for it's 60,000 mile check-up, and we expect at least a $1,300 bill.  Maybe next month.  Here's where we stand now.

This represents 61% paid, which is based on the number we started with when I started making all these silly pie charts.  However, if I use the original total of this loan, not taking into account the paid-off car loan, it looks more like this.

81% paid.  Booyah.

(7)    Work report.  Dave re-enlisted and, as of this morning, passed his weigh-in!  Yay!  Next time around it won't be quite so stressful, because one of his previous failures (one of which was not official and should not have even counted against him) will no longer be relevant, and his entire career won't be on the line.  However, since this is the year of personal make-overs, next year won't be a problem at all.

(8)    Also, I have a bra that fits!!!  It has been a personal revelation.  I've never paid $75 for a bra before, but Nordstrom is the only place I can find the appropriate range of sizes for purposes of trying on.  I had been attempting to fit into a standard 36 or 38 C, D, or DD for YEARS.  It was a daily battle of strap-slippage, cup-spilliage, and awkward manual adjustments, finally resulting in a personal routine of wearing a sports bra over the underwire one just to provide some staying power.  I now have a 34F (in British sizing) and it is FABULOUS!  Now I want to evangelize everyone.

Finish ALL the Projects!

Apparently we still have at least a year before we'll be moving, but I'm still taking advantage of the interim to use up all the hoarded craft supplies that are clogging up the spare bedroom.  I'm finally finishing all the decoupage canvases I'd planned, and continuing the shift in the master bedroom color scheme from red to blue.  As part of that plan, the idea came to me to use Dave's old uniform blouses to re-cover two boring pillows that came with the comforter and add a personal touch.

These would also be a great idea for kids with deploying parents.

Weigh-In Success!!!

With combination crash dieting, killer workouts, weight loss supplements, compression belts and a LOT of prayer, Dave lost twenty pounds and passed his weigh-in this morning with two inches to spare!  So, he is safely employed for at least another six months (barring another government shutdown or the collapse of the entire system, of course).  Thank you, Jesus!!!

And thanks to everyone who sent prayers!  I'm sure they helped.  I'm going to go blow out the altar candles now before I burn the apartment down, and then go decompress in a lovely hot shower.  Oh, the relief!

Weigh-In Crisis, Part 2

Ok, apparently we have a week less time than we thought we had.  The weigh-in to end all weigh-ins will be this Thursday.  If that goes well, the actual PT test will be on Friday, but we aren't worried about that part.  All the hard work he's been putting in has been paying off, but we're right there at the borderline.

I'm trying not to freak out about it.  I know it isn't always a catastrophe when life doesn't go as planned, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me nervous.

Repreave!

Thank you for all the prayers!  St. Joseph, St. Jude, and St. Joan of Arc have pulled through for us.  A desperate appeal to his chief last night has resulted in not just a week, but a month's grace for Dave's lettuce diet to work it's magic.  It's already had a significant effect, so he should be able to be boot camp skinny in a month.  If that doesn't work, there's really no helping it.

What a load of stress relief!

Urgent Prayer Request

If anyone can spare a few moments today, or tomorrow, or Thursday morning, we could certainly use a few extra prayers.

Here's the deal in a nutshell.  After several years of skating by in the spirit of the law, we've been caught by the new draconian regime in the PT office which has begun enforcing the letter of the law.  Despite being able to perform at Navy standards in the gym, Dave has run afoul of their ridiculous weight limits and neck-to-waist ratio.  The numbers say he is supposed to be under 200 pounds at his height, which would be borderline anorexic for his body type.  He's lost ten pounds in the past five weeks in an attempt to meet these requirements, and is now living on lettuce and apples and weight loss supplements, but the outcome is still uncertain.  The issue is that we've had this kind of trouble a few times before, and this would be the last strike.

If he passes, he gets promoted and we're set for at least another year.  If not, the Navy will disregard the rest of his contract and release him back into the wild.  Basically, on Thursday we'll know whether we're staying here or organizing a fire sale of our worldly goods and embarking on a new and exciting semi-homeless phase of our lives.

I know God has a plan, but right now I really wish He would let me in on a few details.

Godchildren, Hindsight, and Living the New Normal

Yesterday I attended the baptism of Michael Joseph, our first godchild.  Unfortunately, Dave had to miss it, but we had a good friend stand as proxy.  It was a gathering of the usual suspects, other young families of Christendom's class of 2008.  Thankfully, I found I wasn't nearly as bothered by it as I would have been six months ago.

At this point, more than a year removed from losing Little Dave, I'm probably about as over it as I ever will be.  The last few weeks in particular have been much better, all things considered.  Everyone's personal tragedy has a social expiration date, after which one really shouldn't keep nagging Facebook about it, or look for ways to bring it up in conversation.  The world has moved on, even if I feel like I physically haven't.  Being alone has really brought it all to the forefront lately.  If you've seen the movie, "Into Great Silence," that's what it's like around our apartment, and not in a good way.  I got married because I was no good at the contemplative life.  Yet, here I am.

They say you never think it will be you.  I know I never did.  My life had been picture perfect vanilla until two years ago.  I had a lovely childhood with no serious injuries, illnesses, or setbacks, cruised through school, went to college, met a great guy who is so much like me he could be a long lost twin, and was engaged a year after graduation.  We did have some suspicion that the matter of children could be dicey just because of certain aspects of our medical history, but we didn't let it dampen our spirits too much.  We were married in January and pregnant by Easter, but then all our expectations began to crumble rapidly.

I had been looking forward to those kids for years.  I remember a specific trash bag commercial I saw during those weeks while I was waiting to follow Dave to California after the wedding.  I was sure Dave would be an excellent father and make adorable children, probably even cuter than that kid.

Needless to say, my expectations of my life have changed significantly.  At this point, taking all my medical setbacks into consideration along with our hypothetical genetic issues and my apparent inability to carry to term, I am resigned to the fact that we'll never actually be able to raise those adorable children we were supposed to have.  At least, not any that are biologically our own.  Some people just knock harder when that door refuses to open.  I tend to take the hint and accept the rejection before we waste a lot of money or I really hurt myself trying.

I have no problem whatsoever with adopting.  That's currently the five-year plan.  What actually still bothers me - more so while he's not around to tell me I'm being stupid for thinking it - is that Dave deserved to have his own family.  I feel like the defective one in this relationship.  He was wonderful throughout the whole ordeal, but he never asked for all this.  Of course, no one does, but I was mortified, particularly because the timing could not have been worse for him, BOTH times.  I married him to be a help and support, not an invalid who can't stay out of the hospital or muster up enough strength to feed herself.  Part of what has scared me away from deliberately attempting another pregnancy is the thought that the black icing on the cake would be for me to die of uterine rupture and leave him completely high and dry.  I can't even bear the thought.  I've already failed him often enough.

In the meantime, most of our friends have budding families with all the traditional milestones, baptisms, first teeth, first steps, first birthdays.  Their blogs and Facebook pages are full of happy pictures and updates.  It can be extremely bittersweet.  I've invested a lot of mental effort into trying to feel blessed to have two saints rather than merely deprived of viable offspring, and some days are better than others.

In order to move on and be functional we almost have to forget, but we really don't want to forget anything because we already have little enough to remember, and the only memories we have are of hospitals and heartbreak.  I feel guilty when I forget.  It seems particularly hard while there aren't any other children demanding my attention.  Instinctively I feel like I should spend time with them now and then, but what that has basically amounted to up to this point is sitting on the couch and thinking about what we could have been doing.

One lesson I have learned, or at least finally come to accept, is that none of us is entitled to anything in this life.  Their normal may not be our normal.  Our normal is not what we thought it would be, but we are expected to make something of it, and in the end it will be for the best.  Eventually it will be like cheese.  For almost a year I went dairy free and felt painfully deprived each time I saw a pizza.  But after several months I just accepted that cheese was only for other people and that I would have to be happy with something else.  Eventually I forgot what cheese tasted like.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to pull it together to be the tough Navy wife with nerves of steel who can handle anything.  I refuse to fail at anything else, because that would just be lame.  So long as I have some meaningful human contact at least once a week, I'll stay sane.  I actually don't know exactly how long Dave has been gone.  I don't remember, and I haven't kept track.  It's easier that way, since I don't know when he'll be back.

In any case, being alone has given me the chance to confront all my issues and pull my life back together for its own sake.  My life is still awesome, even with all it's apparent flaws.  I haven't been permanently traumatized, and the only substance I have ever abused is chocolate.  I'm determined to get this show back on the road despite the detour.  I haven't quite achieved the goal of domestic warrior demigoddess, but just you wait.

Learning to be Alone

I've had it relatively easy so far compared to other military spouses, so please don't interpret any of this as empty complaining.  This year we're riding the deployment learning curve, and I'm actually surprised by how different it can be.  Fortunately we don't have to face the sheer duration of time which seems to be standard issue in other circumstances; David is already gone on his second deployment in as many months.  Subsequent runs will be longer, but I'm glad we've had this warm-up period.  Up to this point, we had hardly spent two weeks apart (collectively) in the two years we've been married.

Now I'm trying to process the life of a childless, unemployed military wife with no husband to look after.  The middle of the day is remarkably unchanged, but mornings and evenings are suddenly very aimless.  The worst part is the recurring question, "What's the point?"

I used to wake up when Dave woke up, snooze while he showered, and then crawl out of bed to make breakfast.  We would have a nice visit while he got dressed, and when he left I would start my day, usually by 6:30.  Then I could do whatever until 4:00 or 5:00 that evening, when he would come home and I would start dinner.  He would ask, "Wanna watch something?", and we'd eat on the couch in front of a laptop and watch Netflix.  Then we'd go our separate ways doing our own things until bedtime.  Then the routine would begin again.  This actually did happen every single day with very little variation.

Now I can't be bothered to get up while it's still dark because there's no point in getting up.  There is no one to make a hot breakfast for, so I usually settle for cereal at around 9:30.  There is no one to dress for if I'm not running errands, so I end up wearing sweat pants and a ratty sweater.  What is the point of making a decent dinner?  Why should I turn extra lights on, or turn up the heat; it's only me here.  What is the point of going to bed on time if there's no one to go to bed with, and nowhere I need to be in the morning?  My life plan had obviously included children by this point, but that hasn't happened, so apparently I'm free to live the life of a twelve-year-old on summer vacation.

It's not as though I do nothing.  I've actually been doing a lot of writing exercises and working on my stocking commissions for this year.  It's the quiet that bothers me, the silence in the morning when I try to convince myself to get up and face my boring morning routine, exactly the same as yesterday and with very little prospect of anything more exciting happening until tomorrow morning when we can do it all over again.  When I do get rolling, I end up engrossed in whatever project I'm working on for hours on end until I finally look up and realize I'm hungry (maybe I should finally make lunch) or have to use the bathroom (has it been another four hours already?), and then it's quiet again.  I often stay up later than I usually would because I would rather keep playing that YouTube video or watch another Netflix episode than turn everything off and putter around a dark, cold, silent apartment.  

I asked one of my single friends last month how she avoided "What's the point?" syndrome.  Being on active duty in the navy herself, she said the prospect of going to jail if she didn't show for work was motivation enough.  Point taken.  I've often contemplated getting a job, especially now that we have extra debts to pay down and have abandoned any thought of attempting a pregnancy in the near future.  Making stockings is fun and all, but I'm essentially making $1/hour, and that isn't counting expenses.  The extra paycheck would be nice, but the only job I have paper proof of being qualified for is retail, and that stint at Target left me with an acute case of retailitis.  We shall see.  

Living in the Big Picture

In the very near future, we will have our first deployment experience.  I can't complain, because it won't be for a terribly long time.  It will be the longest we've been separated since our wedding, but only by a smidge.  There will be other longer deployments throughout the year, but nothing unbearable.  I finished sewing the new patches on his uniforms today.

Apparently I'm considered a bit of an anomaly by Dave's shipmates, in that I encourage him to volunteer for these things, not that he really needed my approval.  If he's going to go, he might as well go now while there's nobody at home but me.  While God still sees fit to deny us living children, we're determined to make the most of it.  I'll probably take the chance to take a few road trips while he's gone.

Besides, this all plays into the larger plan of making his resume look better than the next guy, getting a promotion, moving into a larger apartment, and eventually being in a position to adopt.

Mostly Successful

So ends an extremely interesting (and expensive) extended weekend.

My drive down on Friday was thankfully uneventful. I was too keyed up to handle much excitement at that point. A great deal of traffic was negotiated at high speeds, gravity was defied (coming up that darn hill), ID cards were flashed, official paperwork was acquired, ownership of the vehicle and possession of insurance were proven, a great deal of navigating was done on the fly, speed bumps were conquered, and then I had finally . . . driven onto base and found the hotel. I knew it was going to be a long day.

David met me there after class, looking incredibly spiffy in his black and khaki everyday uniform. We checked in, dropped our stuff, then immediately drove off base and back down that hill in search of the housing office. Getting there proved chaotic at best; the right lane has a bad habit of turning into an exit with little to no warning around here. But the GPS saved the day once again, at least three times actually, before we finally found the place. The staff were very friendly and straightforward once we got there, but they declared it to be too late to do any touring of the vacant houses. We thought the hour and a half left before closing would have been plenty of time, but nobody asked us. They printed a list of possibles for us, encouraged us to poke around a bit (but not too much), and then closed for the weekend.

Waiting out the weekend for normal business hours in our situation was rather like being put on terminal hold on a prepaid phone; our minutes were burning rapidly. The budget didn't really allow an extended stay, but we decided to bite the bullet and keep me there through Sunday night in the hope that we could tag-team it Monday and just get the job done. We used Saturday to run errands, peak in some vacant windows, and spend some of our Target cards on survival gear like an air mattress and all it's accessories. David is plagued with exams this week, so he spent most of Sunday studying. Sarah probably should have been studying, too, but we had some time to catch up.

Monday dawned bright and early at 5AM. I dropped David off at his building and then went back to pack up the room. I put the TV on out of sheer boredom and was informed that the rain was in route once again. Serious rain. No one told me this was the rainy season over here. The clouds would be rolling in today, and Tuesday would be all about thunderstorms. It did not bode well for driving the length of the bay back and forth over the mountains, and the sleepover money had run out.

Breakfast was prepackaged bagels and muffins, courtesy of the hotel. I called the housing office and scheduled a tour for 10:30. I checked out at 9:45 and was then officially homeless for the duration. I drove back out to the office, with only one wrong turn this time. A nice representative took me for a tour of the four possible homes we were interested in (i.e., the ones that were ready NOW). Five minutes per location, twenty minutes and we were done. The guy actually made the comment that he had never finished a tour that fast. Really, there wasn't much to inspect. They were all exactly alike, except for a few obvious details. The first had nice cabinets and new carpet, but we would be requred to have it professionally cleaned before we left; the second was hardwood with nice new floors in the kitchen and bathroom; the third was hardwood, with ugly tile floors in the kitchen and bathroom; the fourth had a nice kitchen, an ugly bathroom, and smelled like toxically fresh paint. I liked the second one, no contest. I promised to return with the husband later that afternoon.

For the rest of the day, I was essentially living out of the car. I wandered around and did some bargain hunting at Ross, did some necessary shopping at Target, topped off the gas tank, drove back to base, wandered around the PX, sat in the food court, then returned to the car and rummaged through my collection of paperwork, said a rosary, munched on granola bars, cleaned the rear-view mirrors, and did whatever else I could to pass the next two and a half hours. David turned up as soon as class let out, and off we went once again. By this time, I had that drive pretty much figured out. They were ready for us, and got him to sign the line where he was supposed to. However, there is apparently a third phase of paperwork we hadn't counted on, and (lo and behold) it was too late to do it today. They were very willing to do it tomorrow, but David had a horrible exam scheduled, I had no place to stay the night, and I certainly wasn't going to drive anywhere through the thunderstorms. It was raining already, and there was some doubt that I would outrun the storm at all. We scheduled our last meeting for Wednesday, I dropped David back on base, and took advantage of a sudden break in the clouds to make my escape.

On the whole, much quality time was had, and I'm glad this was all arranged as quickly and efficiently as it has been. It was still quite an adventure, though. I am back in Cupertino now, at least for one more day. Then we can do it all again. ^_^

Short Notice

Apparently David won't be able to stay home as long as we thought he would over Christmas. Due to leave restrictions he won't be home until the Monday before Christmas, and has to be gone at a ridiculous hour the morning after the wedding to catch his flight back. Prayers for the timely departure and arrival of that particular flight would be very much appreciated.

As far as "for better, for worse" goes, the worse part of being married will seem like the better compared to all this.

No News is Good News

It's been rather slow lately, and there really isn't anything new to report. David is settling in and killing some time before he can really get down to business. It's been great now that he has his phone, internet, AND snail mail, even if they don't let him have Hulu or YouTube. I've been up to my neck in Halloween candy and tacky decorations at work. The life-size skeleton butler with pipes for legs was a bit much. The overall theme this year is the Skelanimals; I liked it better last year when Domo was king. The rumor is that the Christmas lights get set next week, sneaking in on the back wall behind all the other fourth quarter seasonal madness.

The wedding is on track, so far as we know. There still remains some paperwork to clear, but it's being dealt with in due time. Invitations are still en route, leaving the house in waves, about as many as will fit in a ziplock bag I can grab before work in the morning and drop off on the way home. The recommended hotels, driving directions, and all other such useful information included in the invitation (and some that isn't) will also be posted here and linked to the sidebar for future reference. The registry has been edited and streamlined for what must be the tenth time. This imminent cross-country move is already giving me a headache.

Oh, and I bought an iron yesterday. So, just in case anyone was thinking of gifting us one, that's all right; we're covered. :)

On Schedule

Yay! We heard from David today, and apparently he's currently on schedule to graduate next week as planned. Thanks to everyone for all the prayers; they were appreciated on both sides.

Unfortunately, I won't be able to make it up for the ceremony, but his parents probably will. The idea is to return his phone to him as soon as possible, probably shipping it to him as soon as he's settled. Then he can call almost whoever and whenever he wants.

The Current Plan

The idea of having a current plan is actually quite laughable. Any plans we've made never seem to have time to set, like Jell-o that hasn't been in the fridge long enough before someone takes a big scoop out of it. I don't mind being adaptable myself, but I hate to keep changing our itinerary when it affects dozens of other people.

If the current plan doesn't change, please God, I'll be leaving home in a week to visit with David's family until mid-July. During that time we'll do what planning we can for a prospective wedding in January 2010. He'll suffer boot camp from July to September, hopefully make it to Monterey without any significant delays, and then be back home in mid-December so we can pull it all together before he leaves again. That's "the plan." But as usual, we're all at the mercy of the unpredictable realities of the situation.

The one variable in this equation remains the unconfirmed date upon which he would be shipped out.  The original one we've all been working around was set when he was supposed to be going to Pensacola.  Ideally it won't change, but the recruiter has not been able to say one way or the other because he's been inconveniently out of town.
Again, many thanks to Sarah for sharing the necessary insider information to make all this possible on such short notice.