There's something about Nixon....

Nixon talks in his sleep. Seriously, Mac or I can go in there at certain times during the night and Nixon will give us: kisses, high fives or talk to us. It really is incredibly cute and slightly unnerving too. I mean, Mac doesn't talk in his sleep...he does throw elbows in his sleep though, and snores...loudly! I don't doubt that I might talk in my sleep, if you've met me it's pretty damned hard to get me to shut the fuck up! 

So a couple nights ago I went into Nixon's bedroom and snuck a kiss on his forehead. He did his little kissy lips, so I gave him a kiss on his lips. Here's the "conversation" we had:
me: Nixon, you know you're mommy's favorite, right?
Nixon: favorite
me: yep, you're mommy's absolute favorite love in the whole world
Nixon: no fabrite
me: no favorite? of course you're my favorite you silly sleepy boy!
Nixon: shhh...sleepy mommy
me: I love you Nixon
Nixon: bye bye mommy get out

I laughed as I left his room! What can I say, even in his sleep, he's a bossy little shit! But....he's my bossy little shit! 

...to a toddler a broken piece of crap is the BEST!

   So, Nixon is in a destructive phase in a addition to being hilariously stubborn!

Last week, Nixon said to me "follow me mommy", took my hand and lead me to the Time Out mat. He said "Mommy you in Time Out. Stand 'ere" and walked away! I stood there, laughing the entire time, because he was so stern about it! He came back and I asked him "Nixon, why did you put mommy in time out?" His response to me? "Shhh....no talking yet" 
What. The. Fuck! right?!?!?
He came back, said "sorry mommy, but I lob you" and gave me a hug. 
Three days later he took turns putting BeBe and one of his cars in Time Out. This went on for over 30 minutes and everytime I heard him say "BeBe it time for a Time Out" I almost pissed myself laughing! I still do not know WHAT BeBe was doing to get himself put in Time Out, but Nixon was having none of it! 


Tonight was that destructive phase I mentioned. Nixon has a plastic truck from the 100 Yen store that he loves. He decided he was Super Toddler.....and he broke that truck in pieces! He then proceeded to throw another one of less then awesome tantrums when the truck no longer stayed together and I couldn't fix it. I lost count how many times I heard "Mommy bix it NOW!" and "It not broken!" which later morphed into "not crap" because I kept telling him "Nixon, you broke it and it's now just another piece of crap". 
He eventually took one of those "broken pieces of crap" to bed with him. Even telling Mac he had "crap" in bed with him.


Look at me...mom of the year, "crap" is way better than "shit"! 
Right?!?!?

I'm a force to be reckoned with, even 13 hours in the future and 8 months from home!!

   I've been in a "bad" place lately. I've been in an out of my control zone and I don't do well there. There's nothing I hate more then being told "there's nothing you can do, so just let it go". Obviously, if it were just that easy I'd let it go, but sometimes, some people just need a little reminder that just because I don't live nearby doesn't mean I can't still raise some hell when the situation calls for it. 
  I felt the situation called for it. 

  My dad is a Type 1 diabetic. My dad is also an alcoholic. My mom likes to cover for my dad, because it's what she's done their entire marriage (and sadly theirs is the most "successful" marriage out of my mother's side of the family....well, maybe successful is the wrong word...longest-lasting?? They've been married 33 years and her 2 brothers have a collective 3 divorces and 5 marriages between them! But I adore my uncle Mike's wife Laura...he finally got it right when he found her!!) I really digressed here....I've been trying to get call my parents for over 2 months now. They never answer. I'll call, get voicemail, wait a few minutes, call back, voicemail again, wait a few more minutes, call one more time and then give up. My mom uses caller ID so the 3 calls in a row is pretty much the only way I have to let her know it's me, since she almost never checks her voicemail! (why does she fucking have it?? I don't know....) Dad's drinking and diabetes doesn't always mix. Never mind that he works in a mill factory doing goddess knows what exactly, in hellaciously hot conditions for 8 to 12 hours a day. Plus, he had a mild stroke a few years back so his health is not so bueno.

   I'd heard from a family member (who I refused to name to my parents...take that family loyalty!) that my dad might be sick as they hadn't seen him recently and my mom wasn't answering the phone. It's hardly a secret that when my dad isn't feeling well, he self-medicates and when he self-medicates he gets loud and obnoxious...because he's an ugly and usually angry drunk that can't handle his liquor. (Me? I'm a happy drunk unless someone I'm avoiding gets in my face, then it's game on....but that's neither here nor there since I can nor longer drink at this point in time.....) So, it would stand the reason to assume that (a) my dad might be really sick when he starts missing family events, (b) he's drinking because he's sick and (c) my mom is not answering the phone because she doesn't want anyone to know how bad the situation is. 
   Enter me.
   I hear thee potential situation and I get pretty pissed off/upset, scared and sad all at once. It really was an emotional overdose for me! I was pissed off that I was only just hearing about this. I was angry at my mom for once again just letting my dad do whatever it was he wanted to do, damned with what might happen to his health as long as she doesn't have to argue with him (though after I calm down and start to think clearly I realize arguing with my dad while he's drinking is never smart...hell I was the only one who ever picked fights with him while he was drinking and that was basically because I believed I was stronger than my mom and sister and I could take the abuse better than they could. Still not sure if that was true, but I'm not in my hometown anymore and they both still are so......we'll call it a draw???) I was scared that he might really be sick and it might get so bad that he might not be there when I come home. I gave myself time to think about all that and I had an emotional breakdown. I was raw by the end of it. Mac came outside and saw me, held me as I cried, listened to me as I raged and even tried to help me come up with a plan. He kind of was my rock. (That's it for the sappy shit)
  I wallowed the rest of that day. 
  The next morning I was PISSED! How dare my fucking family think, just because I'm not near them they can just get away with shit like this?? Who the fuck do they think they're fucking messing with?? Do they forget I came home from Atlanta after my dad's stroke and took care of everything including dealing with that fucking prick of a doctor?!?!? Fuck this shit! They wanna ignore me, fine ignore me. I'll use dad's anger and hatred against him to get shit done! 
  I called grandma! My dad HATES his mother-in-law. Not without just cause, I assure you, but the issues are between the two of them. Though that doesn't seem to stop them from playing the victim whenever they can. Marsha (my grandmother) was upset when I asked her to NOT approach him at my wedding, I was just planning the wedding at this point. She felt I was playing favorites! My dad was pissed that my mom was asked to bring a cake to my baby shower...because she was doing MARSHA a favor. They both have their heads just far enough up their own asses to make my life hell at one point or another. Mac and I eloped for several reasons but my dysfunctional family was a big deciding factor!


   Last night I decide to try to call my mom one more time. I'd been calling a couple times a day for the past 3-4 days with no results. I called the first time, got voicemail and disconnected. Continued watching the show I was watching until the next commercial and then called again....HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT ON A CRACKER my mom picked up!
  (Now, I'm a lot of things...I'm not coy and I'm not patient. I also don't play games when it comes to my mom and the bullshit she likes to play, so while some people reading this are going to find this exceptionally rude and disrespectful to my mother, there's really no other way to get across to my mom how very upset and concerned I've been about my dad)
   We start talking and I ask how she's been, I tell her I've been trying to reach her...since "fucking JUNE mom!", and she says "well I never know if it's you or someone else calling". 

me: Mom, how's Dad? Because I'm hearing he's not so good and I got really upset. Like really, sick upset over it. SO how is he?
Mom: Well, he's tired but he's better now.
me: Tired? Mom, why would I hear he's sick if he's tired? Do you have any idea how upset I've been? Here..let me spell it out... I was in the hospital with a panic attack because of this MOM!! Because he was tired?!?!? Are you fucking kidding me???
(okay full disclosure...I did go to the ER this weekend, for something stress related, but not a panic attack. But since my mom likes to not take me seriously when I ask a question about my dad's health, I'm bending the truth to try to get her to tell me something more than just "he was tired". I'm okay and on meds so no worries now, okay?!?)
Mom: Beck, it's nothing serious, he was working a lot and got tired. 
me: Mom how's his diet? Is his diabetes in check? Has he seen a doctor lately about that? 
Mom: well no, but he says it's fine.
me: Mom, are you fucking kidding me?!? How does he know it's okay if he's not following the diet and he hasn't seen a doctor to get his blood checked??? MOM, come on....do you know how serious diabetes is if it's not properly controlled?? Seriously, if something happens to him before I come home NO ONE will see me or Nixon ever!!! I'm not fucking playing here. You all seem to think just because I'm not nearby I'm not going to find this shit out! Honest to fucking christ on the cross with a stick up his ass....what are you guys doing?!??! And why aren't you and Mandi talking?!??! What the fuck is going on there???
Mom: Beck....how do you know all this?
me: nevermind how I know, just worry about what will happen if it doesn't fucking stop! It's goddamned stupid that you and my sister live in the same fucking city and never see each other! What. The. Fuck?!?!?
Mom: Honestly. Who is telling you all this? Because....well, I just want to know. 
me: Mom, I'm telling you what I know, you don't need to know HOW I know it! 
Mom: Where you really in the hospital this weekend?
me: Yes, mom, why would I lie about that? Why would I lie about spending hours away from my husband and son in an ER room, alone, because I don't want Nixon to see me like that?? Honestly, mom, you act like it's impossible for me to care about you or daddy at all. Nevermind that I flew from Atlanta to Buffalo and took care of shit when Dad had his stroke! So, yeah, I feel like I'm entitled to be in the loop on dad's health! I don't want to be blindsided by shit, okay?
Mom:.....well, would it help if I had Dad write you a letter?
me: Mom, is there something I should know?
Mom: would a letter from him help?
me: MOM!! Is there something you're not fucking telling me?? Because a letter from him won't soften the blow if I'm asking you right now!!
Mom: No, as far as I know there's nothing. He's just tired a lot. 
me: Mom....is he drinking?
mom:......Dad's awake now, if you want to talk to him.
me: Sure.
Dad: Hey Beck, how are you? (right away I know one thing for sure....my dad has been drinking and it explains a lot)
me: hey dad, how ya feeling?
Dad: I'm tired. I'm 52 years old, I'm tired.
me: yeah it happens.
Dad: Well, I'm sure as shit not 40 anymore that's for sure
me: well that's good, it's be odd having a dad only 8 years older than me
Dad: huh? 
(yeah when he's sober my dad can do math like that with no problem....this was a test)
me: Dad, how ya feeling? Cause I heard you were sick and I got really, really upset about how bad it could be and ended up in the hospital myself with a panic attack.
(here's the thing about my dad...when he's drinking he's really emotional. SO I'm playing on that. It might work it might not.)
Dad: Beck, I'm old and tired, but I'm not sick. I'm just not always fun to be around, but was I ever fun? Don't you worry about your old man, I'm okay.
me: Dad, you didn't really answer the question...are your diabetes okay?
Dad: Beck that's nothing to worry about. Diabetes is nothing.
me: uh..okay dad. (Never argue with him when he's drinking. Rule #1 of the Wilcox household. I'm not there, which means if I piss him off, my mom gets the brunt of it....not fair to her....so I have to let this go)


We talk for a few more minutes, I manage to keep him for getting his usual pissed off story-telling drunk self and then I talk to mom again. She and I talk about Nixon, my sister and my nieces before we say our goodbyes. At one point, she and I were both crying....that NEVER happens! My dad usually says "I love you", that did not happen last night. But my mom said she's proud of me for being so strong and for knowing exactly what I want for my family (having an only child). 
I may not have solved shit, but I spoke to them and laid down the law again. I love how my folks really think I'm going to just disappear for 3 years and not hear anything from family if there are concerns. 
I showed them!

Literally kissing up to me....

Nixon gets more and more personality every day! It's a good thing and a bad thing. It makes him more of a little person and less a baby.  He's so smart, too! And he's always pushing his luck. 

This morning his funky little behind got put in Time Out for throwing his toys. He got his 3 warnings and then off to Time Out we go. While I'm bending over and explaining to him why I'm putting him in Time Out ("Nixon, you're in Time Out because you were asked 3 times to not throw toys and you chose to continue throwing them. You know that behavior is not acceptable. You are in Time Out for 2 minutes. I'll come back for you then."), he's standing on his tiptoes, holding my hand and kissing my chin & cheek telling me "Mommy you preety" and "high fib (five) mommy". When I stand up, he sits on his mat and waits out his time. 

How in the bloody damn hell do you NOT melt when your son is kissing you and telling your pretty??? For me, I had to do the time out, but I almost....almost caved and let him out of time out, but that would've just not accomplished anything. 
But hot damn....my son's not even 3 and working on sweet-talking his way out some trouble. Ladies and Gentlemen....I suggest you lock up yer daughters now, because this kid is a natural! 

Shit.....I's growing up!

This week has been an emotional one, to-say-the-least. 
Nixon started potty training, but I'll have to work on that while Mac is not around. The two of them butt heads and press each other's buttons far too easily to get anything accomplished. It'd be comical if it weren't so bad for Nixon's potty training progress. I can not WAIT to see how these two handle puberty!! Shit...I might have to move out just to survive it myself! I kid you not, these two will battle over the color of the sun.....and they'd both be saying the same fucking color!! Testosterone, you are the problem! 
I saw, and was lucky enough to be a part of, the military family pulling together and helping one of their own yesterday. It may have been the hardest thing I've ever been part of. A young mom stationed here in Okinawa, lost her husband in a motorcycle accident. She's got a 4 year old and another baby due in a just a few weeks. The network of wives on facebook pulled together and within hours had meals for a couple weeks lined up, and started a fund to make daddy dolls for the 2 children. I have never, in my short life as a military wife, seen such an outpouring of support and love to another military family member in need! I was touched, proud and impressed by the other spouses, many of whom (myself included) have never met this woman, but stepped up to the plate and offered any help they could to ease her burden during this horrific time in her life. It shook me, just imagining getting that news being so far from family and having a very limited support system here. (I went into the bedroom, where Mac was napping, and nearly smothered him with a hug just after reading the news of the tragedy.)

Mac and I had a frank discussion about his final duty station choices. This was a "oh shit, we done growded up" type conversation, because we realized, well honestly *I* realized, what we wanted and were we went might end up being 2 different things. And, I was okay with it.  At some point I realized (and accepted) I'm married with a child. It's not all about what I want. It's not all about what I feel I'm entitled too after being dumped on this tiny ass island in the middle of the goddamned oceans, far away from my family and friends with no job for the past 3 years and for a while really no friends. It's Mac's job that is getting us to this next station and its his LAST station. He'll be retiring from this place. So after some serious heart-wrenching soul searching, I took myself out of the equation. Because to be completely honest, as long as Nixon, Mac & I are in the same place together, somewhat close to family (close being in the same country at this point) I'm content. 
But y'all still aren't finding out where we picked. haha bitches!!


Finally, to end on a good note:
I got to go see my friend's brand new baby girl yesterday. I even held the tiny little peanut! She's about an inch longer than Nixon was and 5oz heavier, but holy shit was it impossible to ever remember my rambunctious "follow me, mommy" boy ever THAT tiny and helpless! Hopefully, if things work out, I'll even get to take some pictures of the new family of 4 this weekend, just for fun (and so her friends and family back home with leave her the fuck alone about "post new pics of the babeeeee" it's annoying because new moms have nothing else on their plate but to take 1000 pictures of the baby while she sleeps/eats/poops, right?!?!?)

Not naming names....but asking for opinions

photo 1

photo 2

We've been very lucky, while here on Okinawa, to have met and worked with many talented photographers. But lately I've come to realize some of the most talented ones aren't the ones you'd expect. Unfortunately, most people assume if you pay a lot for a photographer it mus mean the photographer is really talented. 
As I laid on the sofa last night, looking at my wall of photos from the past 2 years, I was struck by the contrasting settings and styles of the photos as well as the photographers. I asked Mac about it and he really didn't have an opinion because we have one photographer we like and will use for our remaining time here. 

So I thought...I'll post a variety of photos taken by the various photographers we've worked with and ask each of you to choose your favorite one. There's no rhyme or reason for it, other than I know a lot of my friends are trained photographers and others are hobbyist photographers, either way you'll enjoy looking at the different styles of photographs (and I'm sure you'll critique them like I always do). Feel free to email me or message me on facebook to ask which photographer is charging the highest booking fee (I won't post their names or fees publically).

Have fun!!

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Holy shit y'all....the switch it flipped on!!!!

For a while I've been slowly resigning myself to the fact that Nixon will (a) take his fisher price aquarium mobile to college with him and (b) never potty train. Seriously, he's been more resistant to potty training than I have been to changing my conspiracy theories about Mac's 50-hour typhoon shift. (**cough** shot in the mouth **cough**) Meanwhile, it seems almost every other child I know of who is around Nixon's age has either started training recently or is totally potty trained, making me feel (once again) like a failure as a mother...but honestly it's not that difficult to do. 

So last night, I asked Nixon if he'd like to use the potty like a big boy like daddy does and wear undies like daddy does. 
Nixon said "dinosaur undies?!"
My reply was "Only if you use the potty like a big boy all the time. If you potty all the time, we'll get you dino undies."
Nixon said "Okay mommy, I want dino undies."

Then he got ready for bed and went to sleep.

This morning, after breakfast, I tried reminding Nixon of that claim. It took a few minutes, and a trip to Time Out for throwing a toy at me, but he finally decided to try Pull-Ups. After about 30 minutes of being dry he asked to take them off (cue the celebration for being dry for 30 minutes!!). The first battle was getting him to sit on the potty. I'd turned off the tv so that he didn't get distracted and forget to focus on his body's cues. Well, I moved his potty chair into the living room and turned on the tv and sat him on the potty. He fought me and I had to find a reward that worked for him....stickers? no. new toy? no. big boy undies? no. ice cream?? yes!!! Big boys who pee pee on the potty ALL day get ice cream after dinner!! THIS got Nixon to sit his ass on the potty for 10 minutes until he peed for the first time!! And then he peed again a few minutes later, walking over to his chair backing his behind over to it and sitting down to pee!!! And he did it again 10 minutes after that!!! 
After every pee, big or little, I'd do a little cha cha dance singing "pee pee in the potty, Nixon pee peed in the potty" and give him stickers from a super secret location! 
Nixon napped in a diaper, then we went back to the potty training. He had one accident which he helped Mac clean up and he peed through the Pull Up Mac put him in after he woke up from his nap (I was out running errands). Once I got home, with noise makers for the post-pee celebrations, it was back to naked potty training and he was all good!

Dinner came, he ate next to nothing like he's been doing lately, but he still got his "big boy potty reward" ice cream.  Turns out, Nixon is a lot more like Mac than I give him credit for.....food motivates him too! 

enjoying the well deserved reward of his day

So intent on enjoying that ice cream!

product placement! lol  Nixon dropped a spoonful and was concerned....He's such a Ball!

This important life lesson brought to Nixon by Mac.....I know! I was shocked too!!

I have a feeling a common theme in many a stay-at-home-parent's list of complaints about the working parent would be the lack of parenting participation. Or maybe that's just me. Could be just me....Mac likes to ask me, repeatedly, the same question about Nixon and still never quite seem to grasp my answer. (An example...spanking. I am ANTI-spanking. I don't feel that using force to punish is going to accomplish anything. Mac seems to think I mean I'm only anti-spanking until Nixon gets older. Like I might change my mind at a certain day on the calendar and suddenly say "okay honey, you can start whooping his ass now." And it seems no matter how many times I tell him I am AGAINST spanking, he keeps thinking I mean "for now". Sure I joke about beating Nixon's ass, and I've swatted his behind a couple times but never hard enough for him to feel anything through his diaper and it's been a case of him running off in a parking lot, not just because he annoyed me.)

One of my biggest dreams is to have Mac help me teach Nixon some life lessons. Today, that dream came true!!

One problem we never have with Nixon is getting him to eat fruits and veggies. He loves them! (Yes, I know I'm lucky like that....he also sleeps awesomely, hate me if you want too. I'm used to it by now) Mac was giving Nixon some grapes this afternoon and he dropped one on the ground. Quick as could be, Nixon snatched it up off the floor and started blowing the grape off (like he's seen Mac do 1000+ times), before popping it in his mouth. Mac, proud as could be, called out to me from the kitchen "Hey babe, Nixon just figured out the 5 second rule!"

The was one proud papa and one important life lesson, all because a grape hit the floor!! 

Balls don't waste food!!!   We're working on our family motto.

So pitiful I wanna kick a puppy if it will make him smile

First and foremost, I'm very anti-animal cruelty. If you ask Mac, he'll tell you I have this insane habit of catching and releasing geckos/other random lizards/caterpillars and even spiders (not the giant potential face-eating ones those...sorry but those fuckers are toast!) outside, yes even if the creature in question has already been gnawed on by one or both of the cats and I know is likely to die I refuse to let it die in the house. I've even found dead creatures inside and said a passing blessing as I placed the carcass in the wooded area in our backyard and asked the spirits to forgive my cats for the murder of the innocent reptile. And I repeatedly remind the cats that we are a no-kill household....it's how they've remained with us for so long despite the pissing habits they both have. (just so I don't get any hate messages about the kick a puppy part of the title)

Now....

Nixon's woken up twice tonight from a bad dream. It's the saddest thing in the world now, when I hear the cry from his bedroom, rush in there to see what's wrong, get down on the floor next to his bed and hold him in my arms to ask him what's wrong and hear him say "bad d'eam mommy" between sniveling on tears and swallowing from being scared awake. I hold him and he's still shaking from the dream, holding onto my neck for dear life like I'm the only real thing in his little world that can keep him safe from the nasties in his dream. I tell him, like I always do when he has a bad dream, "Nixon, bad dream can't hurt you. They're scary but as soon as you wake up, they go away and I'm right here for you. Mommy will never let a bad dream hurt you because bad dreams aren't real. You wake up and the bad dream is gone. But you know what is always real and is always here for you? Mommy and Daddy's love for you. We're always here to keep you safe. So no bad dream can ever get you because mommy and daddy will NEVER let that happen okay?" 

It's usually right about then, that Nixon is fighting to keep his eyes open. He'll lay his head on my shoulder, whisper "okay momma" and then lean towards his bed. 

Bad dreams suck at any age, I know I've had a couple this week that have really fucked with my head and made me consider buying a new dream dictionary and keeping a journal again to find the root of them. But it breaks my heart to hear my baby saying "bad d'eam, mommy" in his tender, sleep heavy voice. He's too young to have bad dreams. Isn't he????

"I said ahh Mommy"

Nixon's not been denied many things in his short lifetime. In fact, only recently have I realized one major "failing". Nixon has never really had ice cream!! OH the horror!!

Mac was eating some cookie dough ice cream and was doing his idea of sharing (which is giving Nixon a sip of ice cream off his spoon and then shoveling a heaping spoonful of his own into his mouth) and Nixon was loving it. When Mac was done, I got up and decided I wanted some, something that almost never happens, because usually by the time I finally do want some ice cream it's already gone. 

Nixon immediately came to sit next to me, lick his lips and say "mmmmm i'e cream". I share far more generously than Mac does, but I also expect a please and thank you from Nixon as we go. Unfortunately because Nixon was so excited about the new treat he was forgetting the most basic manners he's been using daily for over a year now. 

Instead of saying "please" even when prompted by me "nixon what do you say?"
Nixon (smartass in training that he is) says "Ahhh". 
So, I offer to give him a second chance "Nixon....puh....."
Again, my little smartass says "Mommy, I said ahh" as he points to his mouth and the ice cream carton.
So I finally say "Nixon say please or no more ice cream"
"Please more yummy ice cream mommy......ahhhhh" as he moves his mouth closer to the spoon. 


Yeah, he got more ice cream and I got a lesson in toddler smartassery.

Tacky Lanterns.....they're never going to get old!!

Some people have sexy lighting in their bedrooms. Like candles or scarfs on the lamps. (I don't know I've scene it on tv)
I have a tacky lantern over the bed!!!

So here's the story. Now before I give you too many details, I will say...this conversation took place after I took my medications for the night, which do tend to make me less coherent than normal (shocking right?!??) 

I went to bed and turned on the lantern. Mac came into bed and didn't say anything about it. I started the conversation and it got goofy....
Me: Do you like my  sexy mood light? (aka tacky lantern)
Mac: the nightlight? whatever
Me: I can turn it off, but I thought you know...I could switch things up tonight.
Mac: okay, well if you need the nightlight on that's fine
Me: It's not a night light its a sexy mood light!!!
Mac: What?? Why would we need a sexy mood light??
*I roll over and start to pout because clearly he's being an asshole and this is his dick way of being funny
Mac tried to hug me as I was pouting. While I was pouting, I was thinking of words to tell him he's being a dick. Now, as I've mentioned, my head doesn't always work right when my meds have started to work.
I finally think I've come up with something really witty.....
Me: You know, there's no "i" in "selfish".
Mac: What the fuck? Wanna try that again?
Me: NO, I stand by my claim....I know what I meant!!
(at this point we're both laughing because it's gotta be one of the fucking stupidest things I've ever said...but it's not the last)
I get rebuffed again at my sexy attempts, so I'm back to pouting, with random moments of laughter "no i in selfish...what the fuck??". 
Mac tries once again to snuggle me from behind. I'm still pouting so I bust out another gem:
Me: there's no "i" in "snuggle"...wait is that right?
Mac: yeah, but it doesn't make much sense. 
Me: sure it does, well in my head it made sense, but then again no i in selfish made sense too
Mac: you have GOT to blog about this!
Me: it is not a nightlight!!

Typhoon Muifa....suck it bitch!

What I learned from this 3 day storm:
*I am not built (mentally) to handle hurricane/typhoon induced house arrest. I got cabin fever, lost my mind, started yelling at the wind and rain and was convinced the entire Navy was trying to force not only Mac and I to get a divorce but also Nixon and I to divorce each other. Yep, I was convinced Nixon and I were filing paperwork on Monday to annul our mother/son "marriage" because we were both totally over each other by the end of that storm.
* While mentally I am not meant for these storms, I can totally secure some lawn shit to withstand typhoon winds! I've been the one who's secured Nixon's sandboxes for the typhoons this year (even though I've never had to do it in the past and Mac grew up in Miami!).   
* I am unbelievably prepared for a power outage that is never going to happen in this house. Our power didn't even blimp like it might go out. I mean c'mon here people!!! How am I supposed to enjoy my tacky lanterns if the power never goes out?!?!?

Red Bull is not coffee.
After 8 hours of howling winds outside, I'm over it. 
I have zero parenting abilities when cabin fever sets in. I made air popped popcorn, turned on movies and kept Nixon away from the windows...because I wanted an unobstructed view of the storm outside, not because I wanted to keep him safe. 
Why do I have power but only .5 inch of water in my toilet??? Why did it fascinate me that there was almost zero water in my toilet?? (say it with me...Cabin fever)
My tub does not hold water. Why tell me to fill my tub with water, if it won't hold the water??? That was a waste of my fucking time and water. I mean...really....yeah, there was no point to that one. 
Me+high winds overnight+fear of flooding= less than 4 hours of sleep. Enter funny ranting videos
And...apparently, I become slightly paranoid and create my own conspiracy theories about how Mac got stuck at work that in reality have absolutely no factual based probability. Or so says my husband. I still stand by my claim!!

...sometimes you just have to be there

A glimpse inside the reality of the storm and what it's done to my sanity..... (word to the wise....turn your volume down before watching. What?!?!? You've been warned)

 

Why sleep when ranting is so much more productive???

(I'm using red because I'm FUCKING pissed!!)
This rant brought to you by: The US fucking Navy. Sponsored by: Mac's command stupid decisions.  And endorsed by: My pissy ass fucking attitude! 

So, here's a little background: 
Normally at Mac's work, in a typhoon situation, when the military bases go to TCOOR-1C whatever shift (known as section) that is currently on duty, stays on duty for the duration of the storm. Following me?? Good. Okay, so....Mac worked last night, got home at his normal 630'ish in the morning and went straight to bed. Why?? Because some fucking genius decided LAST GODDAMNED NIGHT to flip the script and say "hey if we go TCOOR-1C after 11am, you guys are getting recalled early". SOooooooo....in other words, expect to come back into work and stay here for the storm. 

Now, what I heard was:
"I'll be going in and staying for the storm with the other section" 
but what was said was:
"I'll be going in early and the other section will be going home for the storm."

Now, I know I lost some of you, so let me (as Nixon would say, thanks to Yo Gabba,Gabba "ah, breakitdaown"), at TCOOR-1C there are sustained winds of 35-50mph winds. So, in other words, these fuckers are not only risking my husband's life, but they're risking his whole sections lives AND the other sections lives by asking them to drive INTO work AND drive HOME from work in those conditions, since oh yeah, this week everyone now lives about a half hour's drive from White Beach in GOOD weather!!
GREAT FUCKING DECISION, FUCKTARDS!! Bra-fucking-vo!!

So, of course, the call comes at just minutes after 1pm!! Mac has to get up and get dressed and leave for work. I have no idea how long he'll be there for....but at least I can take comfort in knowing, that Bible thumping sonuvafuckingassclown is home with his family, since MY husband was called in early to relieve him and his section!! 

So really, how much sense does it make to risk not just one but two sections worth of peoples lives, over a few hours?!?!? Honestly, who the fuck made that call??? Seriously?? Mac's co-workers had ZERO say in this call, absolutely no reasoning for why the normal procedure was thrown out AT THE LAST FUCKING MINUTE, and no explanation for why they had to drive in less then desirable conditions so that another section could go home and drive in the same less than desirable conditions. 

I'm thinking....someone (Bible thumper...I might be looking at you.....) took a shot in the mouth or ass to make this happen so quickly. I mean, I've heard of taking one for the team, but THIS, this is extreme!! 
And yes, I realize, Mac is of an "essential personnel" job. What I don't get is the sudden script change and dangerous situations these sailors lives were put in, just because someone decided for some unexplained reason, the section ON shift needed to be relieved early! That's what NO one seems to have an explination for. 

And since Mac can't say it.....I can.........

FUCK YOU!!!! Fuck you for risking that whole section's well-being just to make sure another section's well being is risked on their way home. I hope you sleep comfortably in your bed knowing that you made a shitty decision today and while no one was hurt, it wasn't for your lack of trying! I hope you at least rubbed his back or patted his head, when you were done with him, (whoever he was) that made this whole clusterfuck of a catastrophic procedural last minute change come about....otherwise that's just cruel!

Yep, this one's my fault!

I made a simple dinner: pancakes, sausage and mandrin oranges. 

me: Nixon be careful, the sausages are very hot. 
Nixon: mmmmm, oranges are yummy mommy
me: yes the are Nixon
Nixon: mommy, the plate hot!
me: I know I told you the sausages were hot.
Nixon: No shit, momma!

shit I made for Nixon, tacky lanterns and the neighbor did not prepare.....with pictures!!

So while I'm sitting here, still waiting for this very elusive typhoon to finally do something other than annoy me with the total lack of anything, I've decided to impress you all with my photo skills. 

"dump truck" bed

sheet & pillowcase

First, a couple nights ago I decided to make Nixon his new flat sheet and pillowcase.  I (thought) the pillowcase would be easier. WRONG!! It took me over an hour and a half to make a pillowcase!! To begin with, I didn't know I didn't order enough fabric...opps. But I did have some spare fleece in my fabric box, so it worked out, but still...almost fucked it all up right from the damned get-go! Once I finally got the pillowcase done, I moved onto the flat sheet. Easy-peasy really. It was done in less than 45 minutes. Holy shit, though....my sewing machine came THIS close to getting thrown into the wall. Sometimes it gathers the bottom thread underneath and it becomes a giant clusterfucking mess! It did it a couples times and I was trying really hard NOT to ruin Nixon's sheet. In the end it all worked out...thank you modern medicine because without my meds I would've lost my fricken mind!!

typhoon bounce on the bed

Nixon calls his bed "dump truck bed" now and I'm happy he likes it. 











 Next: 

neighbors planters & potted tree BEFORE "securing" them

neighbors plants AFTER "securing" them. Note the total lack of securing. These aren't even the really heavy badass winds yet! Good job, asshole!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My "tacky" emergency lanterns...hung with care!

the emergency lanterns in the living room!

 

 

 

Dear Okinawa, I get it...you want us to know you'll miss us.

Well, it's August so that means it's time for another typhoon!! So far we've had at least one every month since BEFORE typhoon season began in June. Our first one was Sogda at the end of May, and it was a doozy! 

Enter Typhoon Muifa. A Category 3-4 typhoon with it's eye sighted directly at Okinawa. An eye that's pretty evil and nasty, with high winds and what's shaping up to be a 2-day storm. Our shit's secured, lawn's cleaned up and everything's as ready as it can be. Mac is pretty much almost certainly going to be at work for the whole storm, so it's me and Nixon, which is giving me some serious anxiety because I have never been through a storm like this EVER, alone or otherwise. 

We bought hanging outdoor paper lanterns yesterday and I hung them in the living room, kitchen doorway and hallway, in the event we lose power (kind of a certainty at this point) it'll be safer than burning candle and more fun than flashlights. Plus they were from the 4th of July, so they were only $2.oo each and they actually provide a fair amount of light and run on batteries, which we have a lot of! Tacky looking?? Maybe. But something that not very many other people thought to buy yet?? You betcha!

I have a stack of 10-15 towels plus sheets ready for the rain, if it comes, because our windows suck when the wind and rain make friends and attack our house! Sand bags are ready to be put in front of the doors. 

The biggest thing stressing me out?? What to do with Nixon during the wind and shit like that, for 2 days, assuming we lose power! There's only so much I can do to entertain him in the house before I want to drink and he wants to go outside. After about 16 hours...I might want to let him go outside. Bad mommy confession, I know, but really, I'd bungee cord him to the door first! I'm not a monster. I'd also write my phone number on his arm so someone can call me when he's found! Give me some credit here!

Also, why hasn't the bitch across the street from me taken inside her planters and tree?? It's not a big tree, but it's not heavy enough to sustain 150+mph winds! AND....it's likely to come straight into my windows. Now, you'd think I'd just walk over and kindly remind her to take them into the house right?? Clearly, we've never met. I don't talk to neighbors. Well, I talk to the ones right next to us, but I definitely do not walk across the street to tell someone to use common fucking sense and bring those plants inside! Because, let's face it, I couldn't do it without cussing. It'd sound something like this:
*knock knock* (or ding dong...they might have a doorbell)
neighbor: yes?
me: hi, we've never met, but I'd like to say...there's a large typhoon coming and it's obvious you have your head up your ass and haven't heard anything about so I'm doing the neighborly thing and letting you know
neighbor: excuse me
me: I wasn't done
neighbor: um....okay
me: right. as I was saying. see these lovely planters and tree here?
neighbor: yes, I do. I put them there afterall.
me: yes, well I'll put them up your ass if you don't put them in your fucking house soon. See if they get blown into my house and hurt myself, my son or goddess forbid kill my cat because you, once again have your head up your ass and leave them outside for the storm, I'm going to transplant them into your anal cavity! So how about you put them inside now and forget we ever spoke?
neighbor: who are you again
me: *sigh* I can see this is not going to work (grabs a tree) how about you bend over and I'll put the tree in a safe place for you??

See...very neighborly right??

I forgot where I was going with this blog....big, damn, ugly storm coming. I'm nervous, Mac may not be home during it and people aren't securing their shit!

Wish us luck!

It's August which means its time for a Mommy freak out!!!

Okay, before I share my mommy freak out (brought to you by the month of August and my ability to do math on the fly) let me share my freaky house story first. 

It's no secret our house here in Okinawa has had some odd activity. I've had to do a few cleansings in Nixon's room especially because of the issues. (The scariest one was the growling coming over the baby monitor late one night from Nixon's room. We don't have a dog and it was IN his room. That was all it took for me to do a sage smudge in his room the very next day.) Mac and I both have seen several shadows and the cats have a strange fascination with my closet occasionally. You either believe it or you don't...we do.

Saturday night I was watching The Dilemma with most of the lights off in the living room. Mac was at work, my cat was sleeping on my chest and his cat was sleeping on the floor near me. The air conditioner was off at the moment, so there was no breeze coming through at the time. A piece of paper slid across the dining room floor about 6 feet from Mac's desk. It stayed on the floor the whole time, but it moved from a standstill to another location with no force or explanation. It didn't even make a sound! My cat sat up on my chest and looked in my eyes with a "What the fuck did you do that for??" look on her sleepy face, while Mac's cat nearly jumped out of her fur when the paper moved.
Eh....it's just another freaky shit kind of thing that just happens in our house here. At least I didn't have anything pressing down on my chest in the middle of the night while I was sleeping...THAT scares the shit out of me! 

Now, my ability to do math once again brings me to tears!


Me: Shit...It's August. That's means November is only 3 months away!
Mac: Yeah. 
Me: My baby's going to be 3 in three months!
Mac: Are you going to cry??
Me: I might....it's just coming so fast and I don't have any idea what to do for his birthday....
Mac: When is that going to stop (the crying he means)...when he turns 5?
Me: NO!! Then he'll be going to kindergarten!!!!
Mac: my mistake.....


Seriously...I go to bed and wake up every day but it feels like it goes by faster now that Nixon is here. On the plus side, August is our 9 month mark! 9 months left here in Okinawa!! AND.....we've got a big typhoon heading our way. Should be hitting us Thursday or Friday. Keep y'all posted.