Jan 1st – 15th: Eh, nothing important that I can remember.  The heating system crapped out on us, and we had to spend a night in a hotel, but it’s nothing anybody wants to read about. 

Jan16th: Beginning of the end for Battlestar Galactica.  Awesome, awesome, awesome show, Friday nights at 10pm eastern on SciFi.  Still not over Tigh and Tyrol being Cylons, but they’re my favorite characters.  Sorry Lee (you’re still HOTT!, though).  Also the day we got the new heating system. 

Jan 17th: Our 5th wedding anniversary.  Yes, we have two anniversaries and celebrate them both. 

Jan 20th: I’m still waiting for the rainbows and the unicorns and the waters to recede.  Silly them, I stopped drinking kool-aide years ago.  Played video games all day, and would have avoided the news completely if not for my mother-in-law.  Damn her.

Jan 22nd: My grandfather’s 83rd birthday.  Also my original due date – funny, because I was supposed to be a boy, and named after that grandfather. 

Jan 27th: Sophie’s 6th birthday.  Tried to take the kids out to Applebee’s sans Daddy, turned into a fiasco.  Never visiting that location again - they’ve always been a bit flaky, but that day was ridiculous.

Jan 30th – Feb 1st: Celebrated Sophie’s birthday.  Instead of spending a lot of money on throwing her a party, anddealing with a bunch of kindergartners and their parents, we opted to rent a hotel room at a resort hotel down the road at the Oceanfront.  There’s two indoor pools, including one that has a cave and lazy river.  It was just us – Mommy, Daddy, Sophie and the boys.  We spent hours at the pool, and hours sleeping off the chlorine-induced haze… and best of all, the kids at free at the hotel restaurant!  Thank you, Holiday Inn! 

So there you have it.  Oh, and about December… it sucked.  It always does, and this past one is no exception.  Also, I have all sorts of new reasons to gripe about my MiL… I mean, I love the woman, but something has changed.  And I don’t like it one bit.  So next time, be prepared for the story of the Doll, andhow I’m a bad mom because Sophie wants to be Sarah’s friend.

Things are bad, really bad in my head right now, so I’ll work extra hard to think of something positive to blog about. Here’s a quickie – when the world ends on Dec 21, 2012, I’ll be spared the pain of suffering through my 30th birthday. How awesome is that, that the worst day for humanity is 3 days before my own personal worst day. Yay!

In the past couple of days, I’ve had a few relevations about both my political and my personal philosophies, and one of these days I might actually put fingertips to keyboard and share them. Not today, though. I have a car to pack and I’m on a mission to figure out just where in the Sam Hill that damn rotten milk smell is coming from.

Also, my page view stats graph would make a wicked awesome roller coaster, if only there were loops. But it’s still really up and down, in a violent “WHEEEEEE” sort of way.

The topic: A(nti)theists and their random campaigns against Christmas/God/etc.

My original comment:

Ah, speaking of the impending holiday, I’m letting it be known I’m now entering into full-time Bah Humbug Mode.  I’m sick of the songs, my eyes are tired of the blinking lights and glittery decor, and I’m chock out of wintertime cheer.  Not that I had any to begin with, mind you.  Twenty-three days until I get to stay up past midnight playing deranged, alcohol-deprived, putting-together-and-wrapping-presents-too-late Santa.  Twenty-three days of figuring out yet another excuse for not going to Christmas Eve service (no, I’m not pregnant, dear MIL!), of bellying up to a festive, over-flowing meal with my in-laws who seriously should just put the damn fork down already (I’m obese myself, but they’re twice my size apiece).  Twenty-three days leading up to Christmas Eve, full of noise and crowds and cards I won’t write and pictures I won’t take.  Twenty-three days until I turn yet another year older, souring any joy I might squeeze out of the entire month of December. 

I get over-looked, used, walked-over, even ignored the entire year by my children (and sometimes my husband) – the Christmas season just makes this worse.  In all the hustle and bustle, in my trying to make sure every one else is happy, fed, content, I tend to get left by the wayside.  Tim does try to avoid this, but it happens nonetheless – I know you did not forget my birthday that year, honey, but it was very close to the line.  The one day that should be an Annapalooza isn’t, never when I was a child stuck in Mass or at Christmas parties, and now that I have kids, it never will be – never can be.   Christmas and all its revelry, its over-the-topness, its infuriating madness, drives me crazy.  If it were a simple day, limited in scope to maybe Independence Day, maybe I’d be more fond of it.  But it’s too much, for too long, and too invasive.  I see no way of celebrating it the way I’d like to without alienating our relatives or without becoming hermits for the last few months of the year.  So I’ll let it trample on my birthday, on my life this time of year, and let it into my home – I won’t be the Grinch that steals Christmas from my young children – but I won’t like it.  Not one little bit.

And yes, I’m aware that I get Mother’s Day.  And I share that, with my mother and my mother-in-law.  That holiday has a pretty iffy track record in this house too.  What can I say?  I’ve sacrificed enough for my children, I have no intention of being a martyr.  I just want my birthday back, and no holiday wrapping paper or red/green on my cake, okay?  And a present, separate from Christmas.  That’s just cheap, people.

I’d say I felt better having that off my chest, but honestly, I swear my congestion is getting worse, and my chest hurts more!  Very auspicious start to December!

And the cats, I am so thankful for my crazy, barely-tolerate-each-other-while-competing-for-my-attention feline companions.

I’ll be taking the next few days off from the internet, to spend some quality time with my family.  I hope everybody out there has a good Thanksgiving holiday.

She gets these family projects once a holiday, it seems, and this month is all about disguising a turkey so he won’t be eaten on Thanksgiving.  Way to guilt all those turkey-eating children, school.  Anyway, we were suppose to do this as a family unit and be as creative as possible.  So we had our Tom Turkey join the Navy.  

Tom Turkey

Clever, eh?  So now, instead of being on some random plate next week, Tom will be out there protecting our right to eat his fellow turkeys.  What’s that you’re mumbling?  Something about sick, sad and twisted?

Since I’m posting photos, here’s one of the SpongeBob costume I made for Tom the Child, which when worn, caused the little one to cry like a beaten red-headed step-child.

Sophie, SpongeBob, and Half-Naked Tom

I cried myself, after spending so much time on the damn thing, only to have him hate Halloween and the lame-ass pillowcase I safety-pinned on his shirt to be “Super Kid” while trying to scam candy trick-or-treat.

Vlad digging dust bunnies out of his ear.  I love him, but he’s an odd cat at times.

Fat Cat, tail-free model

Well, that wraps up this week’s inane rantings.  Tune in next week for when I clean out the memory card from the digital camera… wanna talk about out-dated pics?  We got ones from when our twins were newborns!  Stay tuned.

I can’t go back into the Navy, even if I were so inclined, unless I received a new left knee, got a waiver, oh, and lost about a 100 pounds.  The first and last things won’t happen without each other (need a new knee to really exercise, need to lose weight to earn new knee), so I’m pretty much SOL on that front.  And yet, I still want to serve my country, specifically, to work where I used to work and continue to fight the good fight from there.  I miss the nature of the job itself, the intellectual challenge that it is, the people I worked with – and honestly, I miss being apart of something great.  I am a very patriotic person, aided by my own service and that of my husband’s, and I fear I see troubled times ahead for our great nation.  I want to help, I want to protect my family and my country again, but the most obvious way (military service) is out.  Therefore, I’ve decided to go back into government work, this time as a civilian.  This is really important to me, and by putting my intentions on the Internet, it makes it more concrete.  It might take a really long time, but damn it, I’m getting back in.

And I feel a huge small load lifting off my chest.  Deep breath in, long breath out. 

A big thank you goes out to all the vets out there – our nation is all the greater for your service.

Good thing the Dems have Mickey Mouse to cancel out He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s vote, eh?

I have this fear because I know my writer’s block is self-imposed – I dare not dwell to long with a keyboard and empty screen because I have too much in my head which should not be revealed.  The funny thing about that, is I really do have things in my head that I can’t talk about, as I signed a non-disclosure agreement when I left the Navy.  So if I told you, I’d have to go away to Federal Prison, also known “as pound me in the ass” prison.  Although I’m a girl, so I guess that’s not really a problem.  Ahem.  No, I’m really referring to feelings and thoughts I’ve had, mostly about my current situation, and how unhappy I am.  As long as I keep them inside, everybody’s safe.  But see, I babble when I’m emotional, and I’m always emotional, and I feel the urge to type without constraint coming on.  So I’m going to change the subject – like I said before, I’m not going to erase what I’ve already typed… I wonder if I’m the only blogger like that.

Here’s a spot of good news:  So, the Navy Day Ball is this Saturday, and I’ve got my dress and my shoes, Tim’s got the tickets and the hotel room, and the grandparents will have the kids.  You have no idea how excited I am about this – the only other time I’ve been to the Ball is when I was enlisted myself, a few days before my year anniversary in the Navy.  I was 18, single, wore my senior prom dress, and I have mixed feelings about that night…  Now, seven years later, I get to go as the wife of a wonderful First Class Petty Officer, in a red halter dress and heeled Crocs (because I like to be comfy, and no one will see), and I know I’ll have a wonderful time.  And on Sunday night, we’re going to the Melting Pot, just like we did 5 years ago… the night before we eloped at the Pensacola Justice of the Peace office.  And Monday, October 13th is our actual, legal marriage date – we had a planned church wedding that took place the following January, but we got married to speed along some military things.  So, here we are, 5 years later, which I consider to be quite the accomplishment in our day and age.  It’s going to be a wonderful weekend.  : )