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Doesn't the Marine Corps realize that there's a little person involved in this world now as they are jerking our chains around and changing their minds every 5 seconds to the point of confusing and freaking the hell out of me!

Apparently, Mike's commanding officer sat him down and told him there's a 75% chance that he will have a replacement and come home early. 75% chance?! 75 PERCENT?! What the heck is that supposed to mean? Are we supposed to be able to make plans around 75 freaking percent?!

At this point, I don't trust anything they tell us and I am almost desperately frightened of sticking around here even if they do tell us that there's a 100% chance that Mike has a replacement. If they change their mind... that would be it. Then I would be stuck here in San Diego and the only person other than Mike that I would want in the delivery room with me wouldn't be able to BE HERE... because she, like... works and everything. and I would be totally and completely royally screwed.

Trying to stay positive and not freak out. Trying desperately to go with the flow. but it's HARD, verging on impossible.

Baby Room

The crib! I wanted white but couldn't find anything in white that wasn't either insanely expensive or not to my taste. Now that I have it, I'm actually much happier with the cinnamon color I chose instead. The baby bumper was a clearance item at Target. It was quite a find. The baby blanket hanging on the right side of the crib was my first baby present and was given to me by one of my students. I loved it so much that I decided to decorate the entire baby room around it, thus you find the pale green walls.

This wall was my sister's idea: children's book covers framed. Her original idea was to buy the hard back books and frame the dust covers. That idea turned out to be a bit pricey, so my mom decided instead to print out pictures of the book covers and frame them. Love it!

And, last but not least... the changing table... which as you can see is very empty for the time being. Not for long, though, I'm sure. The stuffed animals hanging above were gifts that my students gave me throughout the school year. At the end of the year when they found out I was pregnant they made me promise to give them to the baby. Too sweet.

So the room is all ready for baby and Michael and me when we return to Cali in March or April. It's very fun to have it all ready and waiting for us. Thanks Mom and Dad!

Frustration

Deployment.
Ugh.
4 months down... 8 to go.

I try not to think about the daunting amount of time that stretches out before us. I try to focus on the present. I try not to get frustrated with communication. I try not to worry about Michael's emotional well-being. I try.

It's not easy, though.

Frustrating is the best word I can use to describe it. It's frustrating to wait days for a response to a simple question. It's frustrating hanging up the phone and then thinking of 10 things you forgot to mention or talk about. It's frustrating waiting around all day for an email that never comes. It's frustrating talking to your husband on the phone when he is sitting in a room full of marines and never, ever having a completely private phone conversation. It's frustrating just not having him here.

There are times when I get so frustrated, I literally have to do a body shake and shake myself out of it.

Most of the time I am really great at living in the present. During those times, a one-line email simply stating "I'm ok and I love you" is enough for me. During those times, I am content living this alone life knowing that soon enough this whole deployment will be a distant memory and we will be reunited once again. During those times, I know that this deployment is what is enabling us to be financially secure as I quit my job and prepare to be home with this baby... and I am thankful to Michael for making this sacrifice for his family. During those times, life is grand and I am lucky to have such a committed and devoted husband.

During the other times, though? the times when I jump out of bed in the morning expectantly scanning my email for something from Mike and finding nothing. The times when the phone rings and I hope to God it's Mike.. but it's not. The times when something happens and I just wish I could talk to him about it... a funny commercial that I want him to laugh at with me.. an important question about our medical insurance. The times when I ask him questions on the phone that he refuses to answer bc there are other people around and he can't talk about it...

Those are the times of frustration.

Hormonal Dreams

Have you ever taken nighttime cold medicine and then suffered through a night of fitful sleep and strange dreams?

If you have, then you have some idea what it's like to have a pregnancy dream. My dreams for the past few months have been outrageously strange and realistic (at the same time).

This morning when I woke up, I forced myself awake after suffering through a long, drawn out dream where I was taking my students to church and trying to get them to properly genuflect before taking their places in the pew. In my dream I literally went through each student in the class. I forced myself awake from this "nightmare" and said aloud, "Why am I dreaming about SCHOOL?" Ugh!

But, you know, I suppose sleeping is going to get more and more difficult and uncomfortable as I get bigger and more uncomfortable, so I suppose I should stop complaining about my vividly strange dreams and just be happy I'm getting some sleep.

jury duty

Yesterday I went into the courthouse to do my civic duty and do the juror-thang.

I was really dreading it. let me repeat. really, really, really dreading it. out of the 173 people who showed up, I was among the lucky 50 who didn't get to go home at 9:30 am; because, as the luck of the draw would have it, I was in the jury pool. yippee!

First, we each had to introduce ourselves and give specific information about ourselves as dictated on a sheet handed to us when we walked in. See:

1. Sarah (Sorry)
2. jr. high english teacher (just quit my job, but they don't need to know that)
3. my husband is a helicopter pilot for the marine corps (he hasn't actually flown a helicopter for about 2 years or more, but that's still technically his working title so....)
4. Children? currently pregnant with my first
5. I've never been a juror before
6. I don't see any reason why I couldn't be fair

That's all they knew about me. The lawyers did each get 15 minutes to ask us specific questions. They didn't ask me any, though. Those initial 6 answers and this honest face landed me as juror #3 on a criminal trial.

yippee again!

Actually, after I wasn't sent home at 9:30 am with the other 125 lucky bastards (pardon my french) I kind of figured I might as well make this thing worth my time and get picked. I mean, I don't have anything better to do except float in my pool and read books. Why not make myself useful and help make sure that justice is served?

The trial started almost immediately after they decided on their jury, and we've already heard one witness. and I'm already going insane because the prosecuting attorney (a seemingly educated, intelligent woman) has bad grammar. I kid you not. I think she used the exact phrase "had went" at least 5 times during her questioning and opening statement. It's distracting, and I have to physically hold myself back from screaming every time she says it.

Ex. - Prosecutor: At this point you had went back into the house?

grrrrr....

If I can get past my bias against this attorney's improper grammar, I do believe I will manage to be a fair and impartial juror. I look forward to learning the rest of the evidence of this case and working with my fellow jurors to come to a decision. Wish us luck.

to tip or not to tip

there's a question that has been bugging me for quite some time now. as a "single" person, cooking is not always my favorite option for meals. it's really hard to shop and cook for one person. despite great intentions a lot of food goes to waste (or to my dogs' doggie dishes - thus the reason why they fully expect to be fed every time I turn on the oven).

for this reason, i often find myself resorting to take out. yum.

thai food is one of my favorites, and it is at this particular restaurant that i face a predicament.

i pay by credit card - always - and on that darn receipt is a place for tip. i don't usually give a tip, but the question of whether i actually should be giving a tip has really begun to bug me. i reason that the restaurant hasn't done any service beyond what mcdonalds does every minute of every day, so why do they deserve a tip? but then i always feel bad. really bad. are they expecting a tip? i am the annoying customer who doesn't leave one? does their heart sink when i hand my receipt over and they see a big stinkin' $0.00 in the space for tip?

so i pose this question to you, 3 readers...
should i tip or shouldn't i tip for take-out?

i will leave this decision to you.

Paranoia Paranoia

I must be subconsciously freaked about all the earthquakes we've been having lately. Last night, after I had fallen asleep (for who knows how long) I was jolted from my sleep by an "earthquake". I shot out of bed ready to head outside to ride out the "earthquake".

It took me a minute, but I soon realized that my earthquake was no earthquake. One of my dogs had run into my closet door causing it to shake loudly and then jumped onto my bed. THAT was my earthquake.

Wow. Am I paranoid or what?

Well, yes, actually I am.
I am almost convinced that the world is going to end in 2012. I'm sure this has nothing to do with my raging pregnancy hormones. Nothing at all.

Yesterday, I made the mistake of watching The View and have regretted it ever since. They had this CIA lady on there saying that Iran is developing nuclear weapons and that Al Qaeda wants nothing more than to get their hands on them and use them on US.

That night as I went to my peaceful slumber, I actually considered convincing my East Coast family (especially my DC sister) to move out here to the West Coast. I reasoned that they will most likely attack the East Coast, specifically Washington, DC.

Now you know why as a general rule I don't watch the news. EVER. Little did I know that the ladies from The View would take a break from arguing about Lindsey Lohan and actually hit on something that might scare the CRAP out of me.

And as I mentioned before, I'm sure that this crazy paranoia has absolutely nothing to do with raging pregnancy hormones. Nothing at all.