Passive Aggressive Machinery

A city worker just knocked on my door and asked me if I had been washing clothes or dishes. "No, not this morning, but I did last night," I said.

"Oh...ok."

"I did just run some water a few moments ago though," I said, thinking about the bottle I just prepped for Joey. I used a filter, but still.....

"Maybe that was it. We might have hit your sewer line and we're trying to figure it out."

"Uhhhh.....ok. Well, let me know if I need to do anything, or NOT do something," I said cautiously, hoping that they would actually TELL me if something was wrong.

Looks like that swamp thing out in my front yard is causing me problems. Maria, you're right, he looks like a transformer, but he hasn't spoken to me. :) I think he's the passive aggressive type - just tearing holes in my sewer line with a smile. :)

If that "thing" is still in my front yard tonight, it should add to our lame haunted house affect. It might scare the kiddies away. I might string some orange lights around it, and put a jack-o-lantern in the top, with some cob webs. The city won't be happy, but hey - they might have ripped my sewer line.

The new fad in lawn ornamentation

Word is that our neighborhood is getting cable. That's the good news. Bad new is a few of us have new yard decorations until they finish the project. Here's my eye sore. Lookin' gooood!

Sippy cup, anyone?

Anyone know how to get a child to take a sippy cup? Joey is ADAMENT about NO SIPPY CUPS. He sees one and cries horribly. Doc says he needs to get off the bottle by the end of November and head straight for table food. The food part I don't think will be a problem, but the no bottle thing - that will be a challenge. I know he doesn't have to be off the bottle right on his one year birthday, but I'd like to try.

Something

The new Starbucks is finally open. Just in time, because I've asked a girl from our church here to help me out with Joey once or twice a week after school. I just need an hour or so of "katie" time. I want to have some time to renew my spirit during the week. I really don't have a break otherwise. Joe and I go out on a date once a week, but I don't have much alone time to write, or read, or run, or just go unwind.

ANyway, so Starbucks is open. Today was my first day having Emily help out. So I jumped in my car, drove through the misty air to find a quiet corner of solace and a cup of tea. I arrived to find that it was about to close in 10 minutes.

A Starbucks that closes at 4 in the afternoon? WHAT?!

Apparently, since they are so new, they haven't set their extended hours yet. No biggie.

I do hope this town accepts the new coffee addition. Its such a small village, and its a bit off the interstate, and sign is smaller than it should be, not recognizable to the untrained eye. This town may not be willing to pay the prices either.

This town needs a privately owned, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, someplace where you can sit and read, gather on a Friday night, buy coffee for a buck and a latte for a little more, maybe even a sandwich, with soft lighting, dark wooden floors, and an eclectic blend of music. Not a Starbucks. A hidden spot on the quaint square. After I left the store, I went driving to find SOMEWHERE else to go. Nothing. There is nothing here. I can't go to "O" - not enough time to drive to and from. I ended up parking at the square, and propping my journal up on the center console and writing there. Uncomfortable, but "something" I suppose.

(Sigh) I hope I don't drown here. There's a purpose for everything. We're in such a better place. Its true. But now what.....?

Cotton Harvest Season

Its cotton harvest season in this southern state. Check out the enormous cotton bails. Believe it or not, the cotton used to be more prevalent here than now. This year, about 75 percent (or a figure close to that) of cotton fields are now corn fields. Farmers have had to reroute their strategies and invest in new equipment to grow corn, while most of America's cotton crop has been assigned to foreign countries such as Vietnam. The corn in this state is going toward catfish farms, and of course, ethanol. When we moved here, being from Iowa, I felt right at home. Although corn is becoming more of a profitable crop than before, I'm not exactly sure how the true cotton farmers feel about it down here. I guess they are glad that they don't wear corn underwear.

Testing the email-to-blog feature

If you see this message, then this experiment worked and I have a heck of a memory of the the email address to use for blogging from email. Woo hoo!

Joey Uh Ohhhh

Joey has been saying the famous "uh oh" phrase. The funny thing about it is, the dogs know this phrase to be the "oh s***, I did something wrong and I'm about to be punished" phrase. The first few times Joey said Uh Oh, they hit the deck. They are used to it now, but its still cute....

Kroger bathroom

I've been doing a little cooking lately. Last night I made Szechuan Chicken from my Sandra Lee's 20 Minute Semi-homemade Meals book. I didn't do too badly (but I must say that this DID take longer than 20 minutes - ah hem). Joe left me alone in the kitchen to prepare the meal, and I know it was killing him. He finally came in to fix brown rice. His curiosity was killing him, and he's always made it known that the kitchen was his turf, not mine. I'm not much of a chef, and Joe tends to think that the kitchen is no place for me. I prove him wrong every now and again, but he does teach me a thing or two.

The meal turned out fabulous, I thought. Anything I make with chicken tend to be as dry as the Sahara, but I didn't ruin it tonight. I think this is something that I'll make again. Joe was worried that it was too much trouble, but it honestly wasn't more trouble than anything else.

The day before, I threw together a Chinese Chicken Salad that was amazing. We ate on it for 2 days, and honestly I could eat it every day of my life. EVERY DAY.

(See, I can brag on doing well in the kitchen because its not an every day occurance - let me gloat a little!)

So, I spent an interesting afternoon in the grocery store the other day. My goal upon entering: get the basic needs for survival (i.e. eggs, produce, flank steak, baby food, etc) as well as ingredients for Chinese Chicken Salad and Szechuan Chicken. What made it so interesting was the fact that I had to go to the bathroom - badly - within 20 minutes of entering the store. "Damn," I thought, "Why me?" This was actually the second time I've had an emergency need to use the restroom in a Kroger in two weeks. Last time was in town, and I had Joey with me, and didn't know what to do with him while I used the facilities - and Joe was close enough to leave work and jet over to help me. This time - not so much luck. I was with Joey, and a semi-full cart of food, but no Joe. We were in a neighboring town, 30 min away - and I was on my own. Uggggghhhhh.... that meant I had to carry him into the filthy bathroom and figure out how to juggle him and using the bathroom at the same time without getting his little hands on everything.

I wheeled my cart toward the bathroom. I asked the pharmacy next to the bathroom if I could leave my cart there while I used the restroom. "Yeah, of course." I really wanted to ask if I could take my cart into the bathroom with me, but I knew they wouldn't let me, plus, what's worse - juggling Joey, or knowing that my cart of groceries was in a nasty bathroom. I decided groceries in the bathroom much more gagging, and that I can always wash JOey's hands, if need be.

I pulled Joey out of the cart, grabbed my purse (another thing to juggle - thank goodness I could put that on the hook - hopefully it wasn't one of those stalls that the hook had been ripped down), and went in.

I found the handicapped stall. That way if Joey decided to get touchy feely, the walls were spaced a little farther apart. I thought about strapping him into the diaper changer but it was outside the stalls, and it was nasty, so no. Joey was just going to have to stay in my arms while I did everything else one-handed.

FOr my first trick - untying the draw string on my pants. Should be easy. right? Especially one handed. WRONG. The dad gum thing knotted up as I pulled one side of the string. I laughed out loud. "Really?? You're kidding," I said. "Where's the camera?" Joey was actually pretty calm through all this - just sucking his little thumb and glancing around the stall. But when I laughed, he giggled too and grabbed my face, thinking I was laughing at him. This made me laugh even more. The whole situation was just funny.

Finally, I was able to untie the knot and unbutton my pants. Next trick, pulling them down each side a few inches at a time. I finally managed, and sat down. Hovering was not an option this time with Joey in one arm. Yick.

The toilet paper dispenser was junk. Plenty of paper (for once) but the dispenser was next to being as dirty as the toilet bowl itself and it was broken - which meant that it the access panel kept coming unlatched and falling on us. After several frustrating attempts to snap it back on I finally gave it one last shove, and it made a noise so loud, Joey cringed and almost cried. "I'm so sorry, buddy. This stupid thing is broken." He regained his little composure, popped his thumb back in his mouth, and continued to observe. The dispenser again, fell on us. He tried to help me put it back up, but I was adamently pulling his hands away so he wouldn't touch it.

By that time, I didn't have to go anymore. I had held it enough that my body was in "survival" mode. I decided to try to do "business" anyway, and quickly, and be on our way.

Done. I next had to figure out how to redo all my tricks from before, only backwards. Pull up the pants. Button with one hand (much more difficult that it sounds...). Draw string - that was going to wait. As long as i could get everything else done, I could finish the string later.

Shifting Joey into my other arm (my left arm biceps were bulging and cramped at this point from carrying him), we exited the bathroom stall to head toward the faucets. Another lady had entered the bathroom and looked at us. "How you doin'?" I asked, and proceeded to turn on the faucet and wash each hand separately. She dove into a stall not saying a word, and Joey and I exited the bathroom. Once outside the door, I shivered a "GAWD that was NASTY" sort of twinge and put Joey back in the cart, tied my drawstring. I only prayed I didn't have to go again before we left... I had a lot more shopping to do. I'm still shocked that Joey was SO good through that whole ordeal. Didn't touch hardly ANYTHING! I'm not going to be so lucky when he's just a little older, I'm sure.

Was this post inappropriate? :) Hush, mom. :)

Baby Steps

This is me these days (uh...as the big carrot), photo courtesy of BENT OBJECTS blog that I truly ADORE. ((This man's imagination and artwork is AMAZING!)

Joey is learning how to walk. He's climbing all over me these days. We've removed the one piece of furniture that keeps me up late at night worrying that he'll bust open his little head, and let me tell ya, life is good, now. He has free reign of the living room with no big heavy coffee tables in his way with sharp corners. And yes, now he's pulling up on the couch like a madman, and then reaching for my hands to help him take "baby steps" across the floor. He's a cocky little fella and thinks he can almost run and jump and bounce. Not so, little man. Take your time. You have NOTHING BUT TIME. He can stand on his own now for about 30 + seconds at a time. I've been practicing taking one hand away from his to see if he can learn to support himself by just holding on to one of my hands. He's almost there. I'm thinking he may have this down by the end of the weekend.

Coffee and Effe - turkish delights

I'm listening to Sanders Bohlke tonight.... so chill.

Joe had a long day, and he's already made it to bed. My kitchen table's a wreck. I've cluttered it up with eBay items-to-sell. I have a few things up, but nothing is selling. I keep plugging along.... I have to straighten up this table before I go to bed. Straightening up anything before I go to bed is a sickness of mine. The pillows on the couch have to be straight before I go to bed, even though Rudy will demolish them in the morning when he decides he doesn't wish to sleep cramped under the bed any longer. The dishes have to be done or else I can't sleep. I think I do this because if I don't, then tomorrow is just an even longer day, and most likely I won't have time to "fix up" my area until the next evening. Also, clutter confuses me. It makes me take more effort to think about things, as if I have a thousand people in the room all talking in loud voices, all at one time. Joe isn't like that at all. He can hear a quiet TV when 30 bombs are detonating in chair next to him if he wanted to. I'm jealous. I don't know how this is - maybe its because we were raised in different volume-leveled households ... or maybe its the fact that he's a man and I'm a woman (I doubt this to be the fact of all facts, but it may contribute...) I don't know.

I'm up late tonight - and for once I'm "awake." I don't really understand why, but I can think of a million things to do, but I'm not going to do them. Joe had some work to do tonight analyzing a potential purchase for their company and I put my college skills to work analyzing and comparing income statements (see mom ... I'm still using my degree). I still have more energy (which is good because the dishes aren't done yet...)

Joe joked that maybe it was my Turkish Sultan Coffee that I brewed at 8 this morning. I had one cup at 8, and it was AWESOME. (Hey...the history of coffee is very interesting.....check it out). He bought me a can for my birthday last week. VERY creative gift. I was in Turkey a few years ago for a short stint and have been interested in it since. Anyway, the coffee was not like Folger's as you can imagine. It had more of real coco consistency. And the smell.....Ohhhh the smell. Delicious. The taste, just as amazing. The taste seemed to be a familiar one - maybe similar to the taste that I experience while visiting - I can't believe that I would remember such a taste, but maybe.

My turkish experience was a very interesting one indeed. I was with a motley mixture of 6 very different individuals. I'll never forget the afternoon we arrived in Izmir. We dropped our luggages at our hotel, and proceeded to venture out into the city in search of food. I was rooming with Jeff as he was a close friend, and we didn't worry about the "awkwardness" of sharing a room as there was an odd number of women and men. The other two women were - well, they were what they were - both carrying their own luggage of insecurities and female caddiness, and I simply didn't care to room with either one of them. We found a place to eat, and throughout, the leader of the band casually spouted rude and abnoxious orders at the wait staff. I wanted to sink under the table and I kept flashing apologetic looks to each one. I even grabbed one by the elbow on my way to the ladies room and gave my best "i'm so sorry" and apologetic gesture, although he probably couldn't understand me, he could read my eyes.

After we left the restaurant we started back toward the hotel. The two women and one of the guys were walking a head of Jeff, Howie (another one of the guys that I bonded with) and I. We made sure we spaced ourselves well, as the "leader" of the band was red-headed and LOUD, spouting to every person that walked by that she had to pee, and she needed to pee NOW and where could she find a bathroom (believe it or not, this woman was 38 years old). The other woman was proudly wearing a bandana that sported the print of an American flag, along with a denim jacket with the same print. The guy - well, he was just slightly tall, slightly anorexic-looking with middle-of-the-back length scraggily hair, with round glasses, and was half lit (of which he stayed mostly lit the whole trip). Jeff, Howie and I kept increasing our distance behind these 3 as we headed toward the hotel. Thank God all 3 of us had dark hair, dark eyes, and kept our mouths SHUT. (THe general opinion of Americans in that area of the world isnt' really of the kindness of thoughts, and we knew that, and decided it was best for us to remain silent.)

The "leader" finally was able to tag two young men in their 20's and asked them where she could relieve their bladder. They gave her a sideways look, and pointed her in a direction that looked quite sketchy. As they walked by, we said "Thank you for helping her. We're sorry she's such a nuisance." They smiled kindly and stopped to talk to us further. "You are American?" "Yes," we answered, cautiously. "Wow! This is great. We are studying Western Culture in college. Do you mind if we speak with you a while?"

We let the crazy 3 go on to the hotel, as we hung out with these two. I can remember my caution antenna was WAY up, and my intuition radar was going about 500 mph. They seemed like decent people, very sincere. They asked why we were in Turkey. We cautiously mentioned that we were a traveling band, here to sing for the U.S Airforce Base at Incirlik. They thought that was a very noble cause, but also mentioned to us that it was smart for us to kind of keep that under wraps. We agreed. They made mention that we all mixed well with the Turkish culture. Dark hair and dark eyes.

Next thing I remember, what seemed to be a riot broke out down the street. We all turned to see what was going on. A wave of caution and fear rushed over me as I watched people chanting and marching in the streets with signs held high. Cars and trucks driving fast in parade-like fashion around the roundabouts and through the streets. The two gentlemen walked on ahead to find out what was going on. They returned a few moments later to tell us that the people were celebrating in the streets as their soccer team had just won a regional cup and was on their way to finals for the World Cup. (How exciting that was because a few years back, I had a chance to be in Austria when France won the World Cup in 1998. I was awoken at 3 am to parading and yelling of celebration in the streets. Why don't we do more of that here in the U.S.??)

We watched for a short while, making small talk, and then the two gentlemen decided it would be a treat to take us for an Effe, a turkish beer. "Sure, why not," we said. We were EXHAUSTED but we were only going to be there for a short time - we HAD to stay up.

The rest of the night was slightly blurry for me after that. Whoa, Effe. What a strong beer. And to think, they tried to force another one after I STRUGGLED to get the first one down. It was sooo thick. A real beer drinker's dream. I'm more into wine, so a beer is such an occasional occurance for me (even though my husband is now in the beer business.... how ironic!). About 1:30am, we decided to head back (or in my case, stumble back) to the hotel. My little body was HURTING from that one beer, and instantaneously. I crawled in bed around 2:15, praying that I wouldn't have a worse headache when I rose the next morning that I did when I finally fell asleep.

The next thing I remember - I'm wide awake. Its 4:45 am and my window is wide open, and streaming in is a frightening sound - the morning Islamic call to worship, prayers over the city's loud speaker. "What the hell....?" I think to myself, as I try to pull myself out of my Effe fog. I'm half awake, half asleep. Jeff is snoring. Now - to one who has never heard these morning prayers over a muslim country's loud speaker - its a bit unnerving, especially when you've had a heavy alcoholic beverage not 3 hours before. My mind started reeling (and my head was already hurting) - and paranoid visions of masked, yet stealth and undercover al qaeda members crashing down our hotel room door, and jumping through the window to kill us for being American. I suddenly panicked for telling the two gentlemen the night before about why we were in the country. THe prayers over the loud speaker only grew more intense as the 20 or 30 minutes passed. I contemplated waking Jeff, but was petrified. Finally, the loud speaker went off. I somehow fell back asleep. Thirty minutes later, I was awakened by my alarm. Time to get up and head towards the base.

The most memorable part of the day at Incirlik wasn't necessarily our performance - as it was our first together as a band (we had one lame practice - and when I say "lame" I really mean it) so we had some very rough edges - but the most memorable part of the day was when I rode my very first camel. Yes. And he stunk. And he was mean. And the man giving the camel rides hadn't showered in close to 2 years and was equally as mean, and maybe his name was Saddam Heussein (or he was his long lost twin brother?), I don't know. And the camel's name ...... Effe.

I'll try to dig up the photo.

More Happy Drama

I'm so bummed we don't have a decent vet here. After going to a "new" place in "O" that was AWFUL (we took Rudy and Happy there 3 times for "full works" baths and they only did 1/4 of the job), we decided to go to a different place that seemed a little more legit.

Friday morning, I took the boys to this new animal clinic for several things - and maybe I'm the one to blame for having too much to do on the checklist for one day - they had teeth cleanings (and they had to be put under a local anesthesia for this overhaul), as well as ear cleaning, all vaccinations, and the topper - anal expressions. (ick)

I called around 2:30 to see how they were doing and if it was close to time for pick up. The doc said to give them until 4:30 and then they should be ready to go home.

I arrived at 4:45pm. I waited in the waiting area for 30 minutes before the assistants finally brought Happy and Rudy up to the front. I signed the papers, swiped my credit card, and a young man helped me to the car with the boys. Happy was still a little drunk from the anesthesia and he was stumbling back and forth. The assistant helped me get all 70 lbs of him in the car, and Rudy plopped on the back seat and laid down for the ride.

The doc came out to give me the report.

"Well, they have really good teeth. We cleaned them up good. No bad teeth at all. Didn't have to pull any. All the vaccinations were done. Kate will have your shot records and collar tags up front. Now, Happy has a really bad ear infection. About as bad as it can get, so here's some antibiotics for him, and some ear cleaner. Take good care of his ears, and let me know in a week if he's feeling better."

He handed me two bottles of antibiotics - one for Happy, and the other for Rudy, and then explained that Rudy needed a week's worth of antibiotics as well - just because. "ooooookkkk...." I said, looking at him confused as to why Rudy would need meds when he wasn't sick. Catching my confused look, he said "We just give all our dogs antibiotics following teeth cleaning, just to keep from any infections."

I grabbed the shot records, the tags and all the antibiotics and ear meds, and jumped in the car. I raced home, fighting the clock. Joe and I were supposed to go out to dinner and the babysitter would probably beat me to the house.

When I got home, I looked at Happy's pills. Keflex. Hmmm....that name sounded eerily familiar. I wrapped his pill in a piece of cheese, as I did Rudy's, and tricked them both into thinking that they were treats. They gobbled them down without missing a beat, Happy still stumbling across the floor as if he had one too many tequilas.

Joe and I left to go to dinner, returning home around 10.

Happy was still groggy when we returned. We figured it was probably just a delayed reaction from the anesthesia, and that he'd be normal by morning. Joe and I had this bad feeling that he didn't feel right though. He would follow us around the house lazily, no matter where we went, even the bathroom. He laid outside the shower until I came out and then followed me over the my side of the bed where he stayed most of the night instead of crawling into his own bed. And if he wasn't on my side of the bed, he was over on Joe's side. About 4 am, he was wimpering, and breathing with a long wheezy whine. We didn't really know what to do.... he was able to walk around fine, and he was going to the bathroom fine, so we figured we'd wait until the sun rose to see how he was.

Sure enough, when we awoke, we found that he had finally found his way over to his own bed sometime in the night, but nothing was going to move him. He got up finally, looking as though he was in terrible pain, and drug his way over to the back door to go outside. He couldn't even lift his head. It was almost as if his ear were too heavy for him. After he did his business on the patio instead of in the grass, he stumbled his way back inside and back to bed. When Joe opened the fridge, he didn't even budge from him bed, which usually is the key incentive for him to hurry to the open door to beg for cheese treats. Joe had to bring him a piece of cheese, and even then, Joe had to give it to Happy while he was lying down. We instantly called the doctor following.

Doc said he should have worn off the anesthesia by 8pm the night before so this was terribly wrong and to bring him in right away. We piled into the car immediately and took him in.

We walked in, and the doctor was in surgery. We waited for about 30 minutes for him to call us in.

The moment he walked in, he apologized. "I'm so sorry. Look here ..." and he pointed to a page where I had written down that Happy was allergic to Cephalexin. "Keflex is cephalexin. I didn't even see that you wrote it on the page. Happy is in pain because he is allergic to this medicine." Happy yelped in horror as the doc pinched lightly on his neck and front legs. He asked about how we found out that he was allergic to Cephalexin and I gave him the short version of the story. He gave Happy a Rimadyl shot in his backside to counteract the Keflex and asked us to keep him in the loop on his progress.

Thank God, within a few hours he was doing 100% better. I'm soooo thankful we didn't have another Vet trip from Hell like before, 2 years ago. The med mix-up could have been fatal.

Visitors

Its quiet here today. I had to take the doggies to the vet for teeth cleanings, etc. I had to wake Joey up early to go, and now he's down for a hard nap. I haven't even turned on the TV yet, which makes it unusually quiet in here.

We just had the best past 24 hours we've had in a while. Our dear friends - Pat, Amanda and Ashely from TN - came to visit us. They all took off work (Ashley was on Fall Break anyway so that was perfect timing) and trekked down to our house for the night to spend some time with us and little Joey. That's very humbling....its quite the haul down here, and gas is not cheap.

THey are the announcement of light. I don't know if that makes sense, but they truly are LIGHTS of life. They bring joy to a room. And Bill, Pat's husband and the girls' dad, he wasn't able to make it this time, but I miss him dearly.

We had a GREAT TIME. They arrived around 1 pm yesterday and we plopped down in the living room and talked all afternoon and played with Joey. They brought me a little surprise - JOURNALS! Homemade! They are ADORABLE and I cannot wait to start writing in them. (thank you!!) Last night, we hit Como Steakhouse a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that's fantastic. We stuffed ourselves and then went for a drive to show our friends our little town - in the dark, nonetheless, but they could see its quaintness.

This morning, Amanda went with me to Oxford to the vet's clinic, and she fed and entertained Joey in the back while I drove, and then wrestled Happy and Rudy out of the car. (With Happy, you have to throw a kung fu move on him to get him out of the car. He's such an awkward beast!) Then we drove back and met Ashley and Pat for breakfast at the Cracker Barrel.

Joey and I were sad to see them drive off. We miss them so much. They, among a few others, are part of our Nashville family. When I moved to Nashville, I moved in with a dear friend, Katie Paxson (that was riot....two Katie's under one roof!!) and she introduced me to Alison Carmona, who became my dear sister. Ali took a risk and asked me to sing BGV's in her band, and in turn, she introduced me a whole slew of people that have become my family. Butch and Debra, Bill, Pat, Ashley, and Amanda, Michael (God rest his beautiful soul), Ali's mom and dad all her 7 brothers (yes, she IS the only girl) and many many many more that I didnt' even mention here. I fell in love. We are like family, and I miss them. SO dearly.

Thank you Ladies for coming to visit us. That meant the world.

Same dream, same time, different night

Smokies.....i had the same dream last night....at 2:30am. This time I realized I was dreaming but that didn't necessarily take a way from the irony of the same dream and the same time as the night before.

OH - I forgot to mention yesterday that Joe had a dream that night too that Joey was in bed with us - not the same dream (as OBVIOUSLY he didn't spend 30 minutes trying to problem solve the situation) - but still... weird!

Another wierd dream

I had a really wild dream last night - one of these where are awake but you aren't fully out of dream world yet, and you are "living" in your dream - as if are you seeing visions while your eyes are open, and you are fully aware that your eyes are open, and you have to try to distinguish between if you are inside a dream or if you are in reality.

I "woke" up and started to panic. It was 2:30 am, and Joey was safe and sound, sleeping in his little crib, and I could hear him breathing in the monitor. But I was panicking because I was convinced that ANOTHER Joey was sleeping in our bed with us, between Joe and I, and my fear wasn't necessarily that he was in our bed or that we'd roll over on him - but my fear was that he would wake and we wouldn't hear him, and that he would crawl to the edge of the bed and fall off. So I was determined to find a place to put him so he wouldn't fall off the bed.

I never looked to my left to see if there was actually a Joey in bed with us, but it was if I knew he was there, but I also knew that there was a Joey in his crib. So there is a Joey #1 (in his crib) and a Joey #2 (in our bed). ((Got it?? I know this can get a little fuzzy after a few times around with Joey's, especially after my Pensacola post....ha!))

I didn't want to pull the play pen in our room because then I would have to clean out all the toys first, and then I might wake him in the transition from our bed to the playpen.

Or, I thought, I could always take him to the crib with Joey #1, but he might roll over on him or wake him up, PLUS, I might wake him in the process of taking him to his room.

I literally was in this partial dream for 30 minutes trying to figure out what to do.

I finally had to convince myself that I was in fact in a dream, and that I was crazy, and that I just need to let the Lord take care of this one, because I need my sleep.

I'm nuts.

OR....you know what else I'm thinking.....that might have been a prophetic dream that we'll have twins the next go 'round. Wouldn't surprise me. The Lord has crazy ways of messing with me. :) What do you all think?? By the way, usually when I start dreaming, I will go several nights on a dream-rolls - so I may have many more crazy ones to post. They get pretty entertaining too....

Pensacola

We pulled into Pensacola Beach around 11:30 pm on Friday night. The moment we knew we were close to the beach, we rolled down all the windows and just breathed it in.

Joey lives in Portofino. It’s a resort and spa area with six towers of condos. Absolutely beautiful. Joey lives on the 11th floor of one of the towers with a breath-taking view of the beach. WHen we arrived, he gave us the tour of his beautiful condo. My favorite part was the balcony. We walked out and instantly I felt like I could breathe again. I didn't realize I was deprived of such fresh air until it was blowing in my face. THe view, even at night, was beautiful. You could even hear the ocean across the street. It was amazing.

Joey had already fallen asleep in the car on the way over, and was now up. We quickly put his bed together and put him down for the rest of the night. Thankfully, he didn't go down with much fight.

The next morning, we woke around 8:30. Cam and Bella had already left for Bella's soccer game, and (Cousin) Joey was working on a big case (he's an attorney) and he had to make his way to Mobile to make sure he was ready for trial on Monday. So Joe and I got up with Joey and fed him some breakfast. By the time Joey was done, Cam and Bella had returned from the game, and we played with JOey for a while before he had to go down for a nap. We decided that we'd wait until after Joey had lunch before we'd go to the pool and beach.

While Joey slept, I had a little time to spend with Cam while Joe went to get some lunch for us.

**Sorry so many Joe's and Joey's. You don't belong in this family unless you're a Joe or a Freddy. haha! I haven't even touched the Freddy's in this family. Uncles, brothers, cousins, sons, grampas - you name it. I'll try to stay specific.

Cam and Bella went down to the pool to meet a few friends while Joey stirred awake, and was fed. We decided we'd meet them downstairs whenever he was done. I didn't want to hold them back because of Joey's schedule so I was hoping that they'd go on with their day without waiting on us.

As soon as he was done, we loaded him up with sunblock, pulled on his little swimmer diapers and his trunks (which were too big....thank God the drawstring worked. I just eye-balled them before we left and figured they'd fit.), and headed toward the direction of the pool to meet Cam and Bella.

They hadn't gotten their lunch from the pool grill yet so we waiting for a while and swam in the pool. Joey always does fine in the pool. We were a little nervous about how he'd do next to the ocean though.

After the girls had a chance to eat, we all headed down to the ocean. I wanted to make it there soon, as Joey was going to have to go back up for another nap, and I didn't want him to be too tired and crabby when we made it to the water, so he could have a chance to MAYBE enjoy it.

Here's a shot of Joey's first experience in the ocean. His first "toe dip."



Not 3 seconds after this photo was shot, he was bawling. The ocean was much to overwhelming, and the waves just wouldn't stop crashing. :) Poor kiddo. He was scared. From what I've heard, this is the reaction of most little kiddos so I'm not worried. I'm sure the next time we make it to the beach, he'll be all about it.

Here he is as we are walking away.... not happy.


We did manage to get a little family shot, albeit blurry.



That night, we went to Peg Leg Pete's. It's right next to where Joey used to live before Hurricane Ivan. THe house is still standing, but the roof is still messed up. Believe it or not, just the night before Ivan hit in 2004, I slept in the very room of which the roof above was torn off.

The trip - so much fun. Much too short. I wish we had more time. Next year, I think we are going to try to take a week down at the beach. Maybe. If I'm not carrying #2!!! Whew.....

House of Flies

Its a beautiful day today so I decided to open up my back door, wide open. I not only did that for fresh air, but I was feeling a little stifled today. Its amazing how much better I felt mentally after opening the door as well as all the blinds and windows. But with that came an influx of FLIES right about lunch time.

I've killed 10 so far and there is a serious horse fly that sneaked in (that I can't find right now...) and two others lurking, waiting to jump on my coffee cup when I turn my back. I just smashed 3 - two with one swat and another in mid air that landed in my open dishwasher full of clean dishes. UGH. Needless to say, I had to shut my door. This house needs a couple of screen doors.

I like this house that we are in. Its been a blessing. We are renting, and I simply cant wait until we can find something we love to buy, but it works great for now. WHen we first moved in, you wouldn't believe that spiders. I have a slight case of aracniphobia .... understatement .... and Joe's worse ... but when we moved in, no one had been in here for about 6 months to a year, so it took a little while to ask the spiders kindly to MOVE OUT. I think we've scared the brown recluses back into their holes, and the black widows are mostly outdoors. We've seen these "water spiders" a lot in here, and THOSE BABIES ARE HUGE. But now, since we've been here a few months, they are mostly gone, or hiding. We have a can of spider spray at each corner of the house, and Joe laid a thick line of poison all around the house to keep others from coming inside. As I'm tying, i just realized that spiders like flies..... I wouldn't mind if one or two came out to get this horse fly.

Ok, Pensacola post coming next. I promise. :)

By the way, JOey STILL doesn't like carrots. He's getting close.... He'll eat them, but not willingly.

Soldiers

I am going to post about Pensacola in a little while, but first this.... THis uproar about Rush Limbaugh speaking about "phony soldiers" struck a chord with me. I have a mixed feeling about his comment.

Before I was married (and even after I was married, I had another opportunity to do so), I went on 3 different tours overseas with the Department of Defense singing and performing in a cover band for our troops. I wasn't necessarily in Iraq, but I traveled to "satellite" bases in other countries, i guess you could call them. SOme where safe havens for those coming and going from Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as some were simple posts for national presence within allied nations.

I had a chance to travel to Turkey, Italy (several locations within, including Napoli and Sicily), Spain, Portugal, the Azores, Puerto Rico (two locations within), Honduras, Andros Island, Guantanamo Bay Cuba, and several others. I have had a chance to meet many soldiers, and many families directly affected by the war. I have met those who have been on the front lines of battle. I have met those who collect the bodies of the deceased off the streets of Iraq following battles or suicide bombings, and roadside bombings. I have met these men and women. They train, they work out, they study, they travel, they don't sleep, they work hard, they play hard - they love their country. I have not once met a soldier who is not proud of the country they stand for, and that they have chosen to fight and give their lives for. Not once. I knew there are some out there that complain about this, and about that. Maybe those should be considered "phony" soldiers. I'm not one to say. But I do have to say that the power behind their allegiance is so intriguing, and so inspirational that it is a possibility to think that soldier who opposes the very reason that he or she fights for could be considered a "phony."

I have a patch that one gentleman named Caleb ripped off his jacket and gave to me in Andros. He wrote on it "Keep doing what you are doing, because it keeps us doing what we do. Love Caleb" This says so much to me. This was before our nation began contemplating the purpose of the war. This was not 2 years after 9/11. Now, our government (not our President) has significantly reduced the amount of support for our troops, and has dropped the morale in the country for the purpose of war and the very purpose of our soldiers' presence in this war-torn nations, not only degrading soldiers verbally, but cutting back on funding for housing and food, ammunition, and for entertainment to keep troops morale up. Despite the attacks of their own people back here in the lazy "freedom plagued" nation of America, they press on and they keep working toward their cause....for the very freedom that keeps us feeling "safe."

Saturday night, when we were in Pensacola, there was a table of 3 guys. One lit up a cigarette, and unfortunately the place was a non smoking facility. My cousin Joey was upset that he lit up, and I offered to go back and ask him to put it out. I stood up, walked over and leaned in and asked him if he would please put out his cigarette, and that I had a little guy in the next booth. He immediately threw the cig on the floor and said "yes ma'am, i'm so sorry." I winked at him and said "Thank you, my friend." As I walked away, I noticed a camo duffle bag sitting next to him on his seat, and he had a small set of stitches in his freshly shaven head. "Ugh..." I thought. He's in the military, and I just asked him to put out his cigarette. I wish I would have just let him smoke it. As I was walking out of the restaurant, I ran into him coming back to his table from the bar. I shook his hand and said "I'm so sorry to have asked you to put out your cigarette. I hope you don't mind." He said "No no, its absolutely fine!" Then I asked "Are you in the military?" He said "Yes ma'am, marine corps." I said "That's great, my friend. Thank you for all you do. Thank you SO much. It doesn't go unnoticed." He said as he walked away, "Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me."

I don't really know why I wrote this post today. I just felt that these men and women of our military need a boost of morale and the deserve a great amount of respect. I'm not one to speak about if we should or should not trust our government considering the spin of the media on the progress of the war. THe President and his staff cannot tell the American people EVERYTHING as we are under a microscope of the world. Would you send an email to your enemy with your battle plan so that they can defeat you before you even take the battle field? No. THe American people demand to know what's going on, and its not their place to know. Its our place to trust. We have the right to question, but we also need to trust our leaders to a certain extent. And also, we need to remember that our President is appointed, not only by us, but by God. There is no mistake to the fact that he is our leader, and there is no mistake to the fact that we are at war.

I'm done. :)

Here's a little photo from the past of Alison and I and the band in the Azores, singing with Bob Burger, the base's entertainment coordinator. Ali in the white pants, I'm with the tambourine. Caitlin on fiddle in the background. Bob just won the "Bob Hope Award" a few years ago for his accomplishments of bringing great quality entertainment to his base. Way to go, Bob!

Candy

Friday was our last day in Atlanta. We left that afternoon. But before we left – so much went on.

First of all, last night, Freddy, Evelyn, Joe and I went to Two Urban Licks – GREAT RESTAURANT and unbelievably affordable. We had great food. Very cool atmosphere. We started with a drink. I had a Wine By Joe Pinot Gris. Our appetizer was what they call a “stack.” It was crab and fried green tomatoes with a balsamic sauce, topped with a avocado and scallions. For an entree I had the Alaskan Salmon over whipped potatoes. So good. It was very fresh with an almondie-butter taste.

Afterwards we went out back and played a round of “Botchie” ball – I’m not sure how to spell it. Girls against guys. Girls won, of course. During the game, Joe went in and bought a round of Patron Silver Tequila shots. That’s where MY trouble began.

The rest of the night was fine. After Two Urban Licks, we cruised back home. The babysitter gave us the run down on the evening, and surprisingly, Joey was fast asleep in his little bed. ((I told her before we left that there was a 50% chance he wouldn’t go down without a fight, so don’t worry about it unless he shows signs of passing out.. Evidently he rubbed his eyes raw, and so she thought that was his sleepy signal. She was right! Nice job, Margie!) We stayed up for a few moments after the sitter left, just shooting the breeze, and then we went to bed. I had a headache when we went to bed, but I had no idea what was about to happen next.

BAM. About 3 a.m., I woke up HUNG OVER and SICK. I was so mad at myself for taking that tequila shot. I forgot that the last time I drank a glass of wine and had a shot, I was DONE FOR. I would have much rather been run over by a truck. Not that much alcohol (as we hardly EVER EVER drink and if so, its so wimpy), but the combination of the two just sent me to the cleaners. So, I was back and forth to the porcelain throne until about 5 a.m. We had to wake this morning at 7 a.m. and I was DREADING the headache I was about to feel, and having to be functional for Joey at that hour. Joe was perfect. It didn’t even touch him. Poor Joey - I kept him stirring most of the night as I got up and down.

Believe it or not, we slept right through the 7am alarm (all of us did….even Joey, surprisingly), and I woke up to a text from Evelyn asking me if I was up. Ooops. We needed that extra sleep but it put us so far behind. We flung out of bed, my head REELING with pain, and tried to pull ourselves together. We had so much to do. In 45 minutes we had to leave to get our hair cut, and we also had to pack up a u-haul full of stuff from Freddy and Evelyn. I took Joey down to get his breakfast started while Joe got ready. Thank God Illiana, Evelyn’s housekeeper/nanny, showed up to help out at the house today, and she said she was going to watch Joey for us while we went out to get our hair cut. BIG RELIEF. I handed Joey over and went to get ready.

We bolted out of the house to make it to the appt on time. I was a little nervous – I have no idea why. I guess because I dont' really "do" salons and I get nervous around caddy women, and salons are chock full of them. We went to Jameson Shaw salon, and it’s a very well known place. Turns out, my hairdresser today was Candy Shaw, Jameson’s daughter. She is the star of the show there, apparently. She has quite a few high profile clients. She was my hairdresser, by chance, today. Evelyn booked the appointment, and she was my hairdresser.

The whole experience was actually comical to me. I felt like I was watching the Devil Wears Prada in the flesh. Even Candy’s assistant’s name was Emily.

We walked in, and we were greeted at the door, and given the grand tour. Everyone was really overly sweet, which made me think that their smiles were painted on, and the moment they turned the corner into their breakroom, they scowled and would say things like “Oh she’s such a bitch!” and “Did you see her tacky Wal Mart purse?” and “SHe wears such cheap make up.” Maybe I’m wrong, but….most likely I’m not. Haha!

The place was swarming with young wannabe hairdressers and beauticians. Several were already to their professional stage, but Jameson Shaw is also a “school” for hairdressers, etc. So I’d say about 75% of the people working there could be considered students. Mostly women, but there were some men.

After the tour, the guy that greeted me at the door, handed me a smock in a bag and showed me where the dressing rooms were. “Dressing rooms?” I thought. “Do I have to remove my clothes to have my hair done?” I ducked into the dressing room, and put my smock over my tank top and prayed that I wouldn’t be caught still wearing my shirt when they start the hair process. Besides, I was prepared to tell them where to stick their smock if I was asked to change. (Thankfully, no one said a word.)

I walked out and wasn’t sure exactly where to go (it seemed like one of those carnival house of mirrors – I was so lost) so I went back to the front and asked. They led me back to Candy’s chair and I was greeted by Shane, the young man that was going to shampoo me.

He was the coolest guy in there – the most unpretentious down-to-earth guy. He made some cracks about my long hair and I told him it was getting too hard to lasso so we had to do something about it. We talked about his girlfriend and that she was biochemist. I almost said the it seemed that their roles were reversed (him playing with hair, and her whipping up pharmaceutical chemicals to cure cancer), but I thought that might offend him, so I didn’t, and just chalked it up as “cute” that their dinner conversations where probably quite interesting. He then had a hard time combing out the tangles in my long wet hair. I told him not worry about my scalp, and that it would grow back. He laughed and figured that if I had hair this long, it was probably a close bet that I could withstand a beating by a comb.

After the shampooing (which, mind you, it was a 20 min process, which is 19 minutes longer than I spend shampooing AND conditioning my hair with my own hands), I plopped down in the chair for the cut. Candy came by about 10 minutes later, and asked me how I wanted it done. I told her “pretty simple, really. I like my length, but need help with shaping and texture” blah blah blah, and she knew exactly what to do. She went at it, and in 15 minutes, the cut was done.

I need to mention that she would be considered “Miranda” in The Devil Wears Prada, as she constantly had “an” assistant by her side to whom she barked orders to. Once one assistant was off to do a job, another assistant would fill her spot. Maybe I should call these assistants “runners” as Emily was her real “assistant.” It was interesting. You could tell she was large and in charge. That’s fine. It was interesting to see the dynamics.

After the cutting, she ordered two girls to double team drying my hair. Drying my hair is a task in itself that I hardly do unless I’m actually taking the time to style my hair, of which, most of the time, it styles itself without much effort from me. So my thoughts were, “You really don’t have to take the time to dry this mop…” What an ordeal. It took them 45 minutes to an hour to dry my hair. I wanted to tell them that if they would have just left it alone to air dry, it would have dried quicker. But the whole experience was pretty funny. I listened to these girls’ conversation the whole time they were drying my hair (believe it or not, I could hear over the dryer noise). It was easy to tell that they were slaves to the salon, but they couldn’t stand being Candy’s “runners.” They weren’t very savvy on keeping their salon secrets. “Stacy, should you or me go over and greet that girl in Jenny’s chair?” “How many times are we supposed to ask if someone wants a drink?” I smiled under all the hair they had flopped over my face thinking that they’ll get it someday. Maybe not. I hope so though for their sake.

After the drying, Candy came back over and cut some more off my hair, so maybe it was necessary to have so much drying going on.

Joe was finished only about 20 minutes before I was, so it was pretty good timing. Anyway, the place was pretty crazy. Lots of craziness and an interesting dynamic mixture of people. I’ll definitely be back. But I miss my Rhonda in Nashville. If I’m closer to there, I’ll go to her, Otherwise, I’ll go to Candy.

After haircuts, we bolted back to Evelyn’s to pack up. I was so messed up last night that I couldn’t pack the night before. We had to lightning pack and get on the road. Next stop – Pensacola Beach FL to visit cousin Joey and his family. And so my next post with pictures soon.....