Bourbon and Pepsi (or Why I'm Blogging at Midnight Instead of Sleeping)

Today went sideways. Sometime around 12:30, on the way to Walmart to buy more formula because I committed the ultimate sin of letting us get down to 4 scoops left, there was crying, gasping for air and then projectile vomit. There is really nothing like vomit when it comes out horizontally. And then the look on a 4 month old's face when he wonders what in the hell just happened to him. And why is mommy's face all twisted up like that? When Neal rolled in 3:30, after an 11-hour day, I handed him our clean, but whiny, son and poured myself a Maker's and Pepsi. And caffeine at 4 PM has ruined me for sleep before 1 AM. So here we are. Someday I'll stop making this mistake. If we had wine in the house this would have never happened.

Let me bring you up to speed since October 12.

• After 2 months of relentless Internet searches, we landed ourselves a 3-bedroom apartment with the kind of balconies that I've seen on apartments and thought, "I wonder what it would be like to live THERE?" So, we spent the next 4 weeks sorting through every single drawer, closet, and box...throwing away anything that didn't seem absolutely pertinent at the time. Here's to hoping we don't actually need that badminton set. 
• The movers shifted our move date up. Twice. What's one thing you don't want less of when you're trying to move? Days before the move. 
• Two days before the movers arrived, Mama Virgo and Anna Banana (who are now known around these parts as Big Mama and Nana Anna) arrived and reported for babysitting duty. Honestly, to all of the military families who make these moves without any family? I don't know how the hell you do it. You should have a cape. 
• The stuff, the husband, and the cats all drove off in the direction of Virginia, while the rest of us were Kentucky-bound. 
• We spent 2 weeks visiting. Big Mama and I counted all the new people. Baby E met over 50 folks in the 10 days we were out and about (deduct 4 days for the obligatory KY sinus infection that you fall ill with at the state line). 
• E and I arrived at our new digs with the fancy balcony on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. We were greeted by piles, stacks, and a storage unit that is nearly overflowing. 
• It is now 9 days before Christmas and all boxes are unpacked, my office is functional again, jewelry is being made, pictures are hung, and the Christmas is out. Although sitting here, I just saw a strand of lights go out on the tree. And that makes me want to let loose a scream from a deep, dark place. 

All of that to say that it's been just a hair shy of crazytown around here for exactly 2 months. And yet...it feels so so so much longer. Maybe that's the Mommy in me talking. I'm not sure how I spent my days before baby but I'm actually more productive now than I've ever been. E goes down for a nap and I get at least 39 things crossed off my to-do list. I think I may have watched a lot of television series...in their entirety. They keep canceling the shows I get hooked on (Goodbye, 666 Park Avenue. I heart you, creepy guy from Lost. And Vanessa Williams. Who apparently doesn't believe in plastic surgery...you go girl!). So, I just quit watching anything but Sesame Street.

To everyone who keeps reading but knows that I haven't read a blog in a minute...THANK YOU! I will be back. And at any given time, I have about 3 ideas for posts rolling around in my head...2 of which have nothing to do with projectile vomit, teething, or how to shop from your phone while a baby sleeps in your lap.

Happy Champagne Friday to all! And to all...a good night!

Champagne Friday: Rental Roulette 2.0

Somehow, it was September 20 and then I logged on again and it was the 12th of October. I'm just not even sure how that happens. Except that I've fired up The Pink Campaign over at Daisy & Elm again. A new PINK item everyday for the month of October (except for next Monday when I will post some items in honor of Infant Loss Awareness Week) to benefit the American Cancer Society's Making Strides for Breast Cancer. And then there was a little trip to the beach we took last weekend. And the dreaded 2 months shots on Wednesday. I think that's probably how I lose large chunks of time. Oh and the move to VA coming up...in OMG...Neal's countdown clock says 23 DAYS! OK...please hold while I try to process that. Yep...that's how I lose my days weeks.

So, to celebrate Champagne Friday (I think we'll do a little Barefoot Bubbly tonight..what about you?), I'm listing some more of the rental don't's that I've discovered on AHRN. They're so funny (read: horribly bad), you may just accidentally blow bubbles through your nose. You've been warned.

#1 For $850, you can have the Leaning Tower of Petersburg. Sorry, pets not allowed. Because, obviously, this is high end rental property and they just can't risk it. Maybe that's what happened in the first place? An elephant resided on the left side of the house?

#2 This one advertises a "playroom on the second level." Um...where, exactly, is that second level?

#3 For $2175/month, you get these lovely built-in bookshelves. And someone's fedora collection. That's important in rental property, y'know. And y'all know how I love a nice assortment of hats. (Also, let's just remember that $2175 is about $800 OVER BAH.)

#4 The landlord claims that the blinds are new and they are simply distorted by the camera. And that's all well and good...except, what's their excuse for this picture...

I mean, really...if you are going to lease a property, just go ahead and spring for that nice(r) digital camera to advertise your property. Although, at least it's not leaning. So, that's something.

 

Lastly...this is not a rental property but a photo I found while I was cleaning out the back bedroom. It's of me and my cousins at my grandparents' house when I was about 6. I am 7 different kinds of sad that I'm going to have to explain to E someday why our television was so damn big. It wasn't just a TV, it was a piece of furniture. It was home to Granny's Christmas village every year. And tons of Olan Mills photos in heavy, wooden frames. And there was no remote. I cry for our children as they will never know the wonders.

I now give you permission to mock my lavender suspenders. I had such a pot belly as a child that I don't know they were all that necessary, but they matched the pants, so...

 

Have a very lovely weekend and HAPPY CHAMPAGNE FRIDAY! I will probably drink a smidge more than is appropriate. It happens. It's been a long week.

Life's Lessons From a Virgo

Mama Virgo making notes in Baby E's journal on the day of his birth. She is the Queen of Documentation.

Today is Mama Virgo's birthday. She will be sixty-ish. She doesn't dye her hair, wear high heel shoes (or even dresses...seriously...last year she cleared her closet of every dress and skirt she owned and gave them away), paint her fingernails, cook (except she makes a MEAN filet and her mac and cheese isn't half-bad either), or drive the speed limit. But I love her for everything that she's not, as well as everything she is. And now that I'm a mom, too, I can appreciate even more the sacrifices she has made, the late hours she has kept, the attitude she has endured, and the heartbreak she has experienced over the past 34 years. Happy Birthday, Mama Virgo! Here are just a few of the lessons you've taught me over the years that I hope to pass down to our son: (Mama Virgo loves a list, too)

• Don't let the trash build up in your car. If it came in with you, it goes back out (this saves on any embarrassment one feels when someone not related to you gets in for a ride). 
• Time is money. If it's going to take you an absurd amount of time and you hate doing it anyway, considering making it a financial priority to pay someone else to do it. I feel this way about oil changes, clothing alterations, and computer repair. I will clean my own house, cook my own meals, make my own jewelry (obviously), and wash my own car...but please do not ask me to get intimate with the undercarriage of my Pathfinder. 
• It ain't always about you. Oh LAWD this one was a hard one for me to learn. I'm an only child so, really, a lot of the time it was all about me. Especially at Papa and Granny's. But at home, I had to learn that I was not going to be consulted on every decision and that sometimes I would hear "no." E may not ever hear "no" at Big Mama's (it's her turn to do the spoilin' now), but it's my job to remind him that it ain't always about him. 
• If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right (but not necessarily perfectly). Perfection was never the ideal, but laziness wasn't tolerated. Don't bring home C's when I'm fully capable of B's (except in math, where we all danced in delirious joy if I got anything above a D), when making breakfast, don't leave the dishes in the sink and the butter sitting on the counter, be sincere when writing inside a greeting card, dust under stuff...and on...and on...(related: Put stuff back where it came from and Don't be afraid to throw stuff away.)
• Be Generous But Don't Be a Doormat. Mama Virgo is constantly saying yes. To mission projects at church and my pleas to drive down for the weekend and to the neighborhood kids selling wrapping paper at her door (which qualifies her for sainthood because who the crap wants wrapping paper? Now, if the schools sold Chardonnay...). She is generous with her time and her money. But she also has very strict boundaries that protect her from getting abused. Over the years, I've built my own fences (they aren't walls, but they do keep people out)...but only after getting used up and thrown out. I hope to teach E that it's an act of love to say yes, but sometimes it's an act of self-preservation to say no. 
• Life is too short to drink bad wine, read boring books, build up vacation days, skip holidays with the family, and procrastinate happiness. Nuff said. 
• It's OK to not put it on Facebook. Somehow, I think this one is going to be one of the more important lessons for E as he grows up in this digital age. Perhaps he and Mama Virgo should have a Come-to-Jesus on this one when the time is right. 
• Life Isn't Fair. Another desperately difficult one for me to learn. To this day, when I think about the 2 little boys that should be living in the house, I have to remind myself that life isn't fair. But I've heard it for as long as I can remember. And however painful it is to be reminded, it's worth repeating. It made the sting of getting picked last in gym (and every injustice since) a little more palatable. 
• Document, document, document. As the above picture demonstrates, Mama Virgo believes in documenting for our future generations. It's important to save scraps from moments in time (related: it's equally important to know what's a scrap and what's trash). She has saved all of my baby blankets, the newspaper from when UK won the National Championship the year I was born, report cards, voice recordings, and VCR tapes from middle school basketball games. It's no wonder I rushed right out and bought the newspaper the day after Obama was elected and I've kept journals since the 6th grade.
• Above all, show love. Mom has always shown me love. Even when I slammed the bedroom door so hard it shook the walls...even when I moved away and got engaged to a man who made her blood boil (not Neal. Her love also helped show me the error of that way. She adores Neal. She sometimes asks about him before she asks about me). But she also shows love to others. She may not agree with their viewpoint or understand their motives, but she doesn't see that as a reason to show hate or disrespect. Everyone is deserving of our love. Even those f*ckers at Westboro Baptist. Even them. You need a lot of God in your life to show that much love. She's got God.

This is in no way an exhaustive list. You just can't bullet-point everything your mom teaches you.  And she is much more than a well-traveled, well-spoken, southern mama. But if I can just pass even a little of her wisdom and gentle spirit on to our son, I will consider it a good day.

Rental Roulette

As it turns out, it really does take 6 full weeks to get yourself together after having a baby. Who knew?? I was all, "Oh let me just drop it like it's hot and I'll be right back in a jiffy." And then...I wasn't. I was tears and come-aparts and more joy than I ever thought possible and operating with less sleep than I ever thought possible. And everyone says, "sleep when he sleeps!" But then..when would I ever have time to blog?

So, about 10 days after E was born, Neal got a phone call from his career counselor letting him know that a spot in the school at Ft. Lee (Virginia, sorry...NOT New Jersey) had opened up. Neal was registered for the school in April, but there was now an opening for the December class. Like responsible partners in an equal opportunity marriage, we talked about it...and then I demanded he take it because I'm ready for 4 seasons again (number TWO on the List of Things I Never Thought I'd Hear Myself Say). During the second week of August, moving in November seemed so far away. Now...it's less than 8 weeks and I'm trying to not come unglued about everything that still hasn't happened. On that list of unfinished tasks was finding housing. Lodging. A roof over our heads and a pot to piss in. You wouldn't think it would be that hard.

Let's take a little trip back to November, 2010. Neal had a 2 week class at Ft. Lee and I drove up for the last week to check out the post, do a little tree-hugger shopping in Richmond, and go see what all of the hub-bub was about Colonial Williamsburg (turns out, that really is a lute in his pocket, he is not happy to see you). I also stopped by the housing office to find out what our options were for on-post housing (I really do love hearing the Star Spangled Banner at 5 PM everyday, even though it is preceded by bugles that always wake the baby). I was told there is "ample space" with "tons of officer housing" and "no wait list" and "more houses being built." Excellent. We'll be back.

That, apparently, is not the case now. There is no more space, there is no officer housing, and there's a fatty little wait list. Somehow, one day we were #15 of 15 and the very next day we were #25 of 28. I don't even know how that's possible. So, that leaves us to find our own lodging in a short amount of time.

I turned to the Automated Housing Referral Network, which is a website available to military personnel. It lists property for rent (usually with pictures) by landlords that consider themselves military-friendly. There's usually some sort of discount for military personnel - a waived application fee or first month's rent free or something. In the first week of perusing rentals within our housing allowance budget of about $1300 (housing allowance is based on the region where you're stationed, not your rank. So everyone who lives in the Ft. Lee area gets the same housing allowance), I found the following train wrecks, clusterfudges, and all-out duds. Luckily, I also found a very lovely 1300 square foot, 3 bedroom apartment with a balcony and double bathroom sinks in a gated community. I think it will do just fine for 6 months. But before you can kiss the gate pass, you have to kiss some living room wood paneling...

 

For $800/month, you get (what I consider to be) a double-wide, one token tree, and a piece of sheet metal that's going to do a heartbreaking amount of damage to your car any time there's a gust of wind. 

OR...pay $850/month to get a house that has been "renovated to meet today's code." If you are simply renovating your house to meet code, there's a good chance it falls far below my standard of living. I'm going out on a limb here and saying that there are probably not stainless steel appliances or a walk-in closet in this little charmer.

WAIT for it...ah..yes...the living room wood paneling and blue plush carpet. Who could ask for more? And all of this can be yours for the sweet little price of $1450/month. Let's just bear in mind that this is more than BAH for the area. We would have to come up with an additional $100 each month just for the pleasure of living like the Brady Bunch.

I also found this fantastic little bungalow. Only problem is, they've taken the "loft" look a bit too far (2 walls of brick...at the most). And it's $1400/month and the fireplaces are inoperable, according to the property description. If I'm paying over BAH for a house, it better have working fireplaces so our utility bill is less.

Just in case you thought the wood paneling was an isolated incident. It's not. You, too, can live in a lovely rectangle of fake wood for $1450/month. (I mean, really?? If your interior features unpainted paneling anywhere in the house, there's a pretty good chance that house is paid off. So maybe not be so greedy with the rent. I could live with paneling for $900/month. Anything over is just a sin.)

$1500/MONTH gets you a house with its own ghost. Oh wait...no...that's just someone who's in too much of a damn hurry to wait until the room is empty to take a picture that will advertise the house for rent. If you can't take a decent picture of a room, you don't get my rent check.

It gets better. $1700/month will afford you white appliances. I know stainless sometimes feels very 2010. And they rust. And it's impossible to clean them of fingerprints. But seriously. For $1700, give me steel.

On the other side of things, you can pay $700/month and get this house, with a master bedroom that is seemingly a converted garage (what IS that rail at the top near the ceiling??), complete with tile floor and cinder block walls. Perfect for the escaped convict who is homesick for C Block.

And for $695, you can get a house with this view. I would love to show you the house, but this is the only picture posted with the description. I wouldn't at all be surprised if the rental was actually a tent. Or a teepee. Or maybe a lean-to. So many options that don't require actual brick and mortar.

And last but not least, for $700/month, you can rent a ROOM in this charming little rancher. You would think $700 would get you the whole house, but you would be wrong. You might also think the property owner is very hip and savvy and has Instagrammed this picture to appeal to the younger generation. You would be wrong there, too.

Not included:
1. The GORGEOUS house in downtown Petersburg that rents for $1500 (think Charleston, SC 2-story with porches meets IKEA/Pottery Barn decor), but I'm pretty sure is haunted by Civil War soldiers singing. (Yes, I believe everything I read from a Google search).

2. The hot mess of a property photo taken in the living room, where they tried to cram in every Queen Anne piece they owned + a pack n' play + a plaid couch + 2 cats + 3 people. I can only assume their target market is clowns and they want to show how much will fit into just one room of the house.

3. The house where the featured selling point was a brass and glass light fixture.

4. The sweet little joint where we'll be living. Because sometimes people be crazy. 

I still get on AHRN a couple times a week just to see if The Perfect House has been posted. I have a feeling it doesn't exist.

 

Champagne Friday: The Sweetest One Yet

Cheers to a new chapter in our lives that started at 5:27 PM last Sunday. The secret (that is not really a secret anymore) is officially out. And it is the hardest and best thing we've ever done. Prayers and toasts are greatly appreciated.

Baby E: 8 lbs; 20"and ready to leave his footprint on the world.

Champagne Friday: Enough Already

I feel like I've become a sometimes-Friday blogger with some Wordless Wednesday pictures thrown in every now and then for good measure. But it's summer and there are Olympics to watch, key lime cheesecake muffins to bake, the occasional below-95-degree-day to enjoy, and peach orchards to visit. I know y'all understand as my Google Reader is no longer breathing heavily under the strain of thousands of unread posts. Cheers to enjoying the summer and not being a slave to something with a motherboard....

-insert really cool Google Images photo of champagne, which I am terrified to do now that I know someone who gave photo credit STILL got sued. Note to self: take more pictures of champagne.-

1. My first and final word on Chick-Fil-A:

While I have giggled over the photo of a KFC sign floating around on Facebook that reads "Serving delicious chicken. Without the hate." and I've mused over the copycat chicken sandwich and sauce recipes showing up on Pinterest, the cold hard truth is that I'm done eating there. I absolutely commend Dan Cathy (and his dad, Truett) for making their stance on religion known, since it is something that's important to them as a family (and by extension, their business). I don't know that anyone is particularly shocked about their religious slant since they are closed on Sundays. However, there is a wide spectrum of "Christians" and the very liberal side does find fault with the ultra-conservative (usually viewed as hypocritical and judgmental) side. So, when you come out as a business owner and publicly proclaim your views on any controversial topic, you have probably already prepared yourself for the likelihood of alienating (and seriously pissing off) approximately 50% of your business. Then, it just becomes a numbers game...can you afford to lose 50% of your business for quite some time and probably 10% of your business for forever? (Let's face it...they do have the best playground in town and when you need some girl time and your girlfriends all have mini-me's, an indoor, virtually sound-proof playground is a huge bonus.)

Apparently, the Cathy Family thinks so. Whether they believe that God will take care of them if they throw themselves to the lions or that if they die as a business, at least they'll die as martyrs, they've made a business decision. And in the land of Capitalism, that's totally OK. It's even *gasp* encouraged. (Because another hard cold fact is that it has opened the door for Zaxby's, Wendy's, American Deli, Popeye's, BW3's, Church's, Cane's, etc, etc.)

So there are about 10 sides to this situation: from why they felt the need to go public with this philosophy in the first place to how they choose to spend their profits to what it really means to be a "Christian." And every single one of those horses has been whipped beyond recognition. Although it has made Facebook increasingly more interesting to read. Gone are the "just got my car waxed!' updates and they've been replaced with debates, slurs, photos, controversy, and passion. And I do love a slice of passion with my morning coffee.

However, in light of "Support Chick-Fil-A Day" (well played, Gov. Huckabee. I hope your family gets free nuggets for life) and the resulting response from the liberal camp, let me say this: "Please stop berating the Chick-Fil-A supporters for buying lunch for themselves instead of the homeless on Wednesday. I no longer support CFA, but I also didn't rush right out and serve the large population of less fortunate in Macon, either. I downed the most delicious shrimp po-boy ever at a local seafood dive and then came home and took a nap. I consider myself an all-inclusive Christian, but I still struggle with including myself first. If you didn't take it upon yourself to tend to God's meek on Wednesday, then throw smaller rocks...there's a spider web crack in your glass house."

THE END

2. Michael Phelps is obviously not operating at peak physical condition. He has, by his own admission, felt burnt out on swimming and didn't train for the 2012 Olympics the way he did for the ones in 2008. Can we please just leave him alone? I cannot imagine training that intensely for...what?? 15 years? I trained for 1/2 marathon once and then, after the event, didn't run again for 2 years. I think he has always understood that he couldn't rely on talent alone...that training is essential to success. And I give him a lot of props for not punching the NBC ground crew in the face every time they ask him if he wishes he had trained harder or if he's surprised at his lackluster performance. I hope he shows up on the cover of Time, wearing all 20 medals, a pair of Speedos and 2 great big middle fingers.

3. There is a Sears commercial that airs during the Olympic coverage. A young, beautiful couple is frollicking on the beach, splashing in the waves, while upbeat music plays and words like "Be Free" and "Live" are flashed across the screen in an Abercrombie and Fitch kind of font. Suddenly, the guy runs straight into a refrigerator, followed by the girl about 3 seconds later. It doesn't matter how many times they play it, I forget that it's a Sears commercial and I'm thinking it's for perfume or Old Navy. Until they run, head-first, into unsuspecting appliances. Every. Single. Time. And it makes me laugh. Every. Single. Time. If anyone at our NBC affliliate is listening, can we replace all of the cheesy Honda Clearance Event commercials with that one? Awesome. Thanks.

*added per request of some superspecial readers*

I think we, as a nation, need a blender of something strong, frothy, and fruity. Or we need our corks popped. Something. Between constant trial photos of a deranged individual, constant arguments over fried chicken and God, our need to judge an Olympian's method of preparation, and an election year, we may not make it out alive otherwise. About the only thing we're going to agree on as a nation right now is that those asshats at Westboro Baptist need to take a long walk off of a short cliff.

Cheers, loves! It's finally Friday and the only song I have stuck in my head right now is "Let's Get Drunk and Screw". Word.

Random Wednesday

Having completely missed Random Musings Friday, partly because after I woke up to the tragedy of 12 people losing their lives in a movie theater I was not feeling particularly witty, and partly because I was setting up my new laptop (thank you, Base Exchange, for running a lovely back-to-school special on a Toshiba Satellite), I'm going to share some Random today. And then again on Friday. Because my personal battle cry is: Better Late Than Never.

1. Liz @ A Belle, A Bean, and A Chicago Dog posted this link on her Facebook page this week and I cannot stop posting it everywhere I can think. Essentially, if you are a blogger, a pinner, a tweeter, a Tumblrer....or a Facebooker, you need to read this blog post. It has pushed me to start going through M&M and taking down ALL photos that I did not take with my very own camera. And I now click through EVERY pin I re-pin to make sure they have given permission for pinning at the original site. While I do not care to get sued over some stupid photo of the NYC skyline, I really do not care to pay someone to defend me in court because I'm getting sued over some stupid photo of the NYC skyline. And, apparently, suing does happen. Just take 5 minutes to read her story.

2. Now, on to the photos that I actually do own.

Mama Virgo snapped this picture of a car parked in her office lot at work last week. It sort of embodies everything I feel about the stick figure phenomenon - which is completely out of control here in Georgia. And it doesn't matter if you choose something other than stick figures...flip flops, skulls, boot prints...whatever. Except this. This is awesome magnified.

3. Apparently, my Pinterest account was hacked last week. And here's what is amazing: Pinterest knew before I did. Pinterest is the last thing I check before going to bed and the first thing I open in the morning ("Hello, my name is Ally and I'm Pinaddict"). So, the fact that they identified a scam pin posted to my board and then locked my account before any more damage could be done is extremely impressive. They then emailed me with directions on how to open an investigation into the pin. This took about 2 working days. Once the investigation was complete, I had the original source of the scam pin, directions on how to reset my Pinterest password, and helpful hints on how to keep it from happening in the future. Somehow, I just don't see Facebook having the same processes in place.

4. We have learned how to make s'mores under the broiler in the oven. On my darkest days, this knowledge can very easily be my reason for living.

5. I bought my first bottle of Mod Podge 2 weeks ago. And just like that, I'm 14 again...covering cigar boxes with magazine cut-outs and decorating the cases for my mix tapes.

May you humpty-hump this Wednesday right on through to the weekend!