Fried Mommy Brain

Irish Potatoes

Irishpotatoes

Happy St. Patty's Day.

Now go make these!

Irish Potatoes

Ingredients:

 

2lbs Confectioners (10X) sugar

 

One 8oz container of softened cream cheese

 

1/4lb softened butter (1 stick)

 

1 tsp. vanilla

 

Dash of salt

 

3ozs of coconut

 

Ground cinnamon (to coat potatoes)

 

 

Directions:

 

Smoosh all ingredients together.  Refrigerate for one hour.  Form into small balls and roll in cinnamon. Keep refrigerated.

 

Hello Out There

It's a quiet Monday morning here with a semi sick kiddo at home so since I am housebound (my own personal idea of hell), I decided to go ahead and catch up on the ole blog a bit. Seems I only manage that once every month or so now.

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Matt:  Welp remember how last month I was mentioning Matt was pulling 14 hour days and working 36 hour shifts every 6 days?  I thought that was bad. I was wrong.  He is now working those 36 hour shifts every 3 days and the 14 hour days in between.  How does that work out you ask?  Well let's see: He heads in around 4:30am on a Monday morning and doesn't come home until Tuesday evening for dinner. Wednesday morning he heads back in but around at 4am since he has to run drills that morning and comes home again for dinner. Thursday he goes back in at 4:30am until Friday evening. Saturday he'll get a rare day off before heading in before the sun on Sunday to work until dinnertime on Monday. And so on and so forth.  It's averaging out to be 110 to 120 hours a week after travel time is deducted.  What does this means for the family? Well, I've been thrown back into independent wife and mom mode. Not especially difficult since we did a deployment not too long ago. So I am trucking along the best I can playing all roles to everyone and everything.  Jules and Lysse are veterans like me so they have just carried on as usual. But Madilyn? Oh the poor thing..she is such a daddy's girl and it's just breaking her heart. Her life revolves around him walking through that door. We have tried to explain that he has to work to pay for the house and bills. Her logic on that one? "I HATE this house! I want to move so Daddy doesn't have to work anymore".  I'm doing the best I can to keep her busy and distracted but nothing can fill that void.  Such is the plight of many a military family. We are not alone.  And hey, atleast he is still geographically around for the time being. He pops in sometimes to do some laundry and to interrupt my precious sleep before returning to what has become the place he spends more time than his own home.  That lovely military owned floating steel prison.  However, it does appear we're up for another separation period. One downside of having an indemand qualification like air control is that you can get plucked from anywhere you are currently stationed and forced elsewhere. Right now the big wigs are wanting him to report to a deploying ship--a few days prior to Madi's 4th birthday (will he ever be here for her birthday?!). He would go out to sea with them until his replacement shows up sometime a couple months later. It would entail another trip to Bahrain en route back home. Let's see if they abandon him there again or not.  I refuse to think much about the whole ordeal right now. We'll make it through whatever is thrown our way. What other choice do we have?

Jules: A couple weeks back, our girl turned 12. On the one hand, I can't believe I have a 12 year old. That cliche saying of how times flies and all that. But at the same time, it felt like she should be turning 13 or 14. She has always had an air of maturity about her. A "wise beyond her years" personality. So, surprisingly, 12 wasn't that hard of a birthday for me to accept.  It already feels she's older than that.  Of course I do have my moments of mini panic attacks when I realize that 4 years from now is the age I was when I met Matt. That is a bucket of cold water kind of wake up call.  What can I say about her? She rocks.  Ok, yeah, she has her moments of sighs and eye rolls for me but I still consider myself pretty damn lucky. She's pretty damn awesome.  'Course it is hard to watch her changing so rapidly. Really, it feels really wrong to be starting to envy my pre teen's physical appearance.  I certainly wasn't built like that in middle school. Shit, I'm still not built like that now at 30.  Its a cruel, cruel world I tell ya.  So what does a 12 year old in our house get for her birthday?  Welp, second earrings holes for one. And an official Ghost Hunters shirt and DVR (digital voice recorder) to do EVP work for another.  I simply adore that one of my kiddos (so far) shares my intense interest in the paranormal. She really has a knack for it, too--she always manages to think or catch something I don't. Otherwise, the girl is in her 10th season of soccer.  She took a break this winter to participate in drama for the school--having received one of the rare speaking parts and even singing a couple solo lines. I gave her major credit on performance night because she was battling a sinus and upper resp infection. Only I didn't know it at the time. I medicated her with OTC drugs and sent her up on stage.  The next week I found out how bad off she really was, got some RX meds then sent her out for track try outs. She did well but didn't make the cut this year. It really turned out for the best though because unless we found a way to clone her, there was no way she could do this level of soccer and participate fully on the school's track team.  Inbetween her honor's classes, violin practice (second chair, baby!), and soccer, she lives on Facebook, email and the phone--often abandoning us to go hang at her best friend's house.  She does a rockin job at balancing everything in her life right now and allows us to be privy to all the inside scoops of the middle school world. I can only hope that will continue on as she gets older.

Alyssa:  As I type this, this lil chickie is on the couch watching Back to the Future.  She's home today with some stomach cramping.  That was a nice 4:30am wake up that she, thankfully, fell back to sleep after although I can't say the same for myself.  Alyssa just began her 4th season of soccer. No way I am letting that girl stop--a true talent she has. And she *will* be forced onto track when she is older. Speedy has no say in that one.  She is enjoying first grade although I swear she would be homeschooled if I let her.  Don't get me wrong, she likes her teacher and her classmates, but she would be content to sleep in, stay in jammies till noon and hang with Madi and me. I assure her she's not missing anything exciting but she's just a homebody. She still remains an engima to me. I feel like we are so much alike in so many ways--she is probably the child most like me. But at the same time, she always leaves me guessing.  She can (and does sometimes) talk all day long until I feel blood dripping down my cheeks from my ears. And yet, there is so much she leaves unsaid. When I actually sit down with her and get into a deep conversation, I am always left a little surprised--the inner workings of that brain are so complex. Such deep and insightful thoughts in such a young child.  She leaves so much to herself. I do worry from time to time--she can handle death, a run away pet, one of my PMS blow ups and it slides right off her back.  But God forbid the garage door won't open or she has trouble tying her shoes. A total melt down ensues.  It often leaves me shaking my head in frustration.  She and Madilyn still continue on with their turbulent sister relationship. So loving one moment and wanting to strangle one another the next.  Alyssa wants to be a mother figure like Jules is, but Madilyn won't accept it from someone a mere three years older than her.  In the end, each day that goes by, I am left wondering and daydreaming what a decade from now will be like with and for Lysse. It's obvious she'll be a striking girl--ok yeah I am bias, blah blah blah. But between those emerald green eyes and her silky long strawberry blond hair, china doll skin and petite features--well, let's just say once in a while I get a flash of what she'll look like as a teenager and it frightens me while also making me proudly smile. But I am truly anxious to see what her "I won't tolerate any BS. I'll get what I want in life" personality gets her. It'll get her far, that I don't doubt.

Madilyn: Oh my, oh my. My Madster. Silly three year old Madi.  Like I say repeatedly, the child that has shown me I don't know jack crap about parenting.  Parenting her has been like the whole the SAT experience back in high school. Jules and Lysse, I thought, were my study guides. My practice tests. So I walked into mothering Madi feeling confident that I'd score a 1600 without even breaking a sweat. Then I got down to business and stared at the first question realizing that I'd be lucky to score points for filling in my name. Was this thing written in a foreign language? Oh and I'm also sitting there taking the exam naked without my calculator.  She's always 1/2 mile ahead, leaving me panting behind her trying to catch up. Let's see...the first two things that come to mind since last month when I last posted is how she played hair stylist on her bangs and she mooned her friends.  Both prime examples of experiences in motherhood where, at the time, I saw red but will (hopefully) find the humor in the whole thing later. Many, many years from now.  The haircut happened when I was distracted on the phone. She came down with half her bangs cut to her scalp along with a chunk at the top of her head. I found the scissors I thought I had hidden as well as her hair on my bathroom counter. After calming down, I was able to "fix" it but borrowing a ton of hair from the top of her head and the side to do side swept bangs. She very quickly realized the errors of her ways and I highly doubt she will ever attempt that one again.  As for the mooning, I have a feeling long time readers of this blog aren't surprised by this. Par for the course, right?  But no, honestly, the whole stripping naked while angry thing was a thing of the past. She hadn't done that in..well months and months.  Then comes the day last week when she was outside playing with friends and decided it was ok to drop her pants and swing around her booty. Oh my. Unfortunately, one of the friends was a boy.  A dear friend of Alyssa's.  I'm not sure how much longer his mother will be allowing him down here with all of Madi's antics.  Otherwise, although she drives me mad on a daily basis, she really makes me laugh my ass off as well. Just as Lysse did at three. I swear, three is one of the most hilarious ages. From the fits of rage when she sputters and spews what she thinks are insults ("you...you..you PINKIE!") to her moments of total randomness (like her early morning rising just to check and see if her popsicle is done freezing).  We are really enjoying her last year home with me before she embarks upon her preschool experience next year (or should I say "invades and takes over her preschool"?)  Our favorite day of the week is still library storytime. 30 minutes for her to go listen to a story, dance, and do a craft all the while Mommy tucks herself into a corner to read smut. Oh my..glorious.  Wednesday she becomes my lil couponing buddy--hey cutting coupons IS considered working a fine motor skill. And the other days we just play it by ear doing as we please. 

Me: I'm trucking along day to day. Same ole, same ole as I say. My life rarely changes much. I'm still keeping house and wiping rear ends.  I admit now--with little shame anymore--that although I feel blessed to have been able to spend the better part of a decade as strictly a stay at home mom, I am ready to move on and add some other facets to my life.   I am not sure where my life is heading as our youngest gets a bit older and is about to begin her school years. But I am ready for the adventure.  I have had moments lately that it's becoming harder. Perhaps it's because I am sitting here at 30 years old and realizing that few people in my life know me as anything else than a mother and wife. "You're such a dedicated mother!" or "You are such a strong Navy wife" is what I hear on a regular basis. That is all well and good. They are titles I have enjoyed holding and two that will forever remain the most important to me, but it saddens me a bit to know so much of me was put on a back burner. Oh sure, other interests of mine pop up here and there and a few people might realize I actually enjoy things outside of vaccuming and acting as team manager for soccer.  Obviously I enjoy writing, I only wish I could dedicate more time to it.  Anyone that reads this blog knows I am a total book whore. And I have mentioned in passing my renewed love of running although few probably realize I spent many years on a track team and actually did pretty well. I can still give ya a run for your money for sprints although its the self induced pain from a long distance run that my soul finds the most cleansing. I also enjoy drawing and can actually draw a pretty rocking stick figure.  I started playing the piano at the age of 6 and although Tori Amos I am not, I can still sit down and belt out some semi recognizable Bach, Pachabel and Rocky Horror Picture Show tunes on my grandmother's antique Lester piano when the mood strikes. My taste in music is actually very eclectic. Anything from classical to club to hardcore rock and if it wouldn't make me completely oblivious to my children's needs, I'd probably walk through life with my earphones. I have a (semi new) gross fascination with sanctioned fighting and fulfill this strange blood lust of mine by watching the UFC matches on TV. Man, to see a match in person would rock. I have also made no secret about my obsession of the paranormal--something I have loved since I was younger than Jules. But few probably realize it would be a life dream of mine to purchase a haunted property (although, please, refrain from throwing plates at my head. That's not kosher). I drive past a forlorn old home complete with on site cemetery and get that giddy tingling feeling. Actually, along with that obsession I have a pure love for historic properties overall. How I ended up in brand new construction is beyond me but I crave a home with pocket doors, 12 foot ceilings, warped wood floors and treasures hidden in the walls (by treasures I mean brittle documents and records not decaying animal carcasses, by the way).  It kills a part of me everytime I see a (around here, rare) property bulldozed to make way for cookie cutter monstrosities ala Sims or even when I see trees cleared for the same purpose. Modernization sucks sometimes.  I'd love to own and run an in the middle of nowhere bar/restaurant for the good ole back woods folks here.  I don't see much chance of that happening but I stll think it'd be neat.  On my list of things to do before I die is to travel out of the country--Ireland and Scotland being the #1 stops-ranking right up there with a clothing optional island beach.  I'd love to work or volunteer in an animal shelter, state park, library, hospital or on an ambulance, and have even toyed with becoming licensed in real estate (hey, every day would be an open house, baby!) all the while loving the idea of staying in my jammies, sipping coffee and making up stories in my head for others to read. I realize that all reeks of a young adult's mentality of "What will I do when I grow up?" but I suppose it a plight not unshared by other stay at home moms as they approach a time they realize is finally theirs to discover, or rediscover, themselves.

This whole time period has proven challenging over the last year or so and is no doubt made worse by the constant upheaval of Naval life. It's frustrating, to say the least, when you barely have enough time in your days to fulfill all of your obligatory roles let alone be able to fathom fitting in time to indulge in self discovery. I have noticed that this becomes over bearing during "those times" of the month.  I admit to a couple break downs of frustration and anger.  I think I need to start marking the "days to avoid the mom and wife" on the calendar in red. My poor family. But even during times when hormones are not driving my moods, I find myself struggling to find out what is missing in my life. Something is, that much I know.  That nagging, irritating tickling feeling inside that says I'm not doing something I am meant to do.  I can't say how much I appreciate Matt's patience, in particular, during this time. I swear no one else out there could ever deal with me.

And to (abruptly) wrap up this post since my girls' patience is about done--on a random, lighter sidenote: Don't forget St Pat's day is coming up, people. Time to make those Irish Potatoes and partake in some (green) drinking (We personally celebrated early this past weekend by watching Boondocks Saints II and doing shots of Apple Pucker. I think I have my Irish hertiage to thank for my tolerance. Cheap date I am not).  Make it a good one and don't forget to blast some good ole bagpipe music (thanks to the above mentioned movie, my current fave is The Blood of Cuchulainn. I highly recommend it).