Happiness is Furious

What's to tell? I've been swamped physically and emotionally for the last month. So much going on I can't wrap my mind around some of it. All I can do is hope everything turns out for the best in the next couple of weeks and life will finally move forward. Ever had that feeling of limbo? Where one thing can't be done until this other thing is done first but then you have three other things that require that first thing? But I'll be damned if those three things don't require something of the second thing too. Yeah, swampy limbo.

At least the passports, both military and civilian travel, have been filed and I'm just waiting for them to arrive. The dog is up-to-date on shots and micro-chipped. All the medical histories have been collected and sent, ID cards, insurance and dependent care done.  Most of those were contingent on me getting my taxes done and THEN changing my name legally with both SSN and on my driver's license. Holy hell, that's a LOT of paperwork!! Thru the grace of God, I'm getting a little money back from last year since I basically lived below the poverty level. The majority of that will go to paying back some bills I accumulated during my last marriage. I hate owing.

Speaking of owing, I'm owed an apology from a few people but I have to try to forget that. Some people you just feel sorry for because their hatred is sadly misplaced. The mistruths they tell will come out in the end and it makes me sad. (Yes, I know I'm digressing from my usual happy, go-lucky but this last month has brought out the beast in me. The Major keeps me from baring my teeth too much, luckily.) A lot of my anxiety is self-imposed. I'm scared to death of living overseas. Of living in an unfamiliar environment and what happens if the Major is deployed while we're there? What happened to those friends I thought I'd have forever who suddenly don't have my back? Thank God we have base sponsors and there's a strong spouse's network. I keep reminding myself that I won't be alone, that I make friends easily and my will to be happy is stronger than my fear of the unknown. C'est la vie.

For now, I'm going to be #FuriouslyHappy. (<-- I wish I knew The Bloggess in person. We'd have lots of wine slushies, talk snark and pound the table in laughter.) Because the Universe can suck it when it tries to bring me down. I have love, wine and my family and friends. God evidently loves me because I have all of these in my life in abundance.

So neener, neener punkin' eater. No more whinin', ya big baby. This mama wants no more drama! But I do want glitter. LOTS of it. Plus jazz hands because the Universe better start doing a tap dance while I aim both barrels at its feet. I'm about to blow the lid off a can of whoop-ass.

Drowning in papers

Whew. What a busy weekend! Baseball season has started which means I barely get to see the kids alone, what with all the practices and games. Each moment is precious though. We're in the middle of planning for not only the Okinawa move but also a trip to Europe in June to see the Major's oldest son graduate college in Rome. As I've never been out of the country, this'll be an experience.

Who knew there was so much paperwork to fill out just to get a passport?
"Fill out form DS-### along with Form DS-#### plus provide 3 types of ID as verification, photocopied and notarized, (etc, etc three pages of instruction later) plus your firstborn's umbilical cord and hair samples..."
Okay, so the last part is made up but STILL! Several pages plus notarized consent forms of my ex just to take the kids. Woof. I can't finish MY application until I get my taxes done and then change my name legally on my SSN. There goes my last paycheck into someone else's pocket to pay all the fees and taxes. *sigh*

I'm not thinking entirely clearly this morning because of the time change. Daily Savings Time is archaic and barbaric. I am not built to be up before the buttcrack of dawn. Thank God for K-Cup quickness.

Much thanks to new readers in the following countries!:
China
Colombia
Germany
Denmark
South Korea
Palestinian Territories
And of course, regular readers in the US, UK and Canada. xoxo

Giggly Snort

So I live with my fiance now and very very soon we'll be marrying. It's so awesome how well we get along. So much so, that I've been giggling in my sleep. I didn't believe him until he posted this:

He is in so.much.trouble. My public shame= snorting when laughing too much.

Surreality is...

This is interesting. Weird. Lovely. Scary. Exactly what I've craved.

This living together, with my kids, in this house. Waking up every day next to each other. We hadn't done that except on trips. Now knowing that we will be seeing each other in all our glory and gory for as long as we can stand it. Excuse me while I clean out my eye-boogers before he wakes up.

I still have so much doubt that I'll live up to certain expectations, my own mainly. That, though I've managed to portray myself exactly as I am, I still won't be good enough. Because I really wasn't good enough before. Not according to some others' standards. Some insecurities are best left to children. But aren't we all just a bit child-like? No matter what anyone says, if you don't have SOME kind of doubts about yourself, or question your own motives and worry about what others think, then you're an egotistical douchebag. 


During my move into his house this weekend, I was overwhelmed. And more than a bit grumpy on a number of occasions from the sheer stress of it all. I tend to be shorter tempered than most when tired but kept myself under control. Then he'd crack a joke, I'd laugh or merely smirk at the absurdity and keep going. My mom was stunned at how neither of us snapped at each other and we just seemed happy instead of strained. Our house is a mess, boxes everywhere; I have no idea where anything is. Each box seems to have a surprise in it. And that bothers me. The clutter is causing me to have OCD and I may become a crack fiend to calm my nerves. I still have work to accomplish for clients and way too much to pack before we go on vacation tomorrow. IF I can find where I put our clothes and camping gear. 


It's a lot to absorb for all of us. So much change. So little time to adjust.

He'll have to get use to me laughing a bit too loud and finding my hairballs laying around, to being a stickler for manners and having a clutter free house. And to get use to having children in his house again.

I'll have to get use to him being a procrastinator and paper hoarder, to having a penchant for riling my kids up before bedtime, and the weird sleeping positions he has that look entirely too uncomfortable.

We'll both adjust to the eccentricities of our mothers, bless them both. To our siblings and their opinionated thoughts on our living situation and the ways of our relationship.

A family isn't perfect. We will never profess to be so. That frailty and fallibility is the most beautiful part of being human. Neither of us is perfect and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Call me Paddington

I'm surrounded by boxes.

Most full, some only half so, waiting the final fill and to be thrown into a moving truck. I figured out it was cheaper to rent a van/truck (whatever the hell they call it) instead of using our cars and my mom's truck plus the gas money for multiple trips. I'd rather move it all at once, start unpacking and begin the process of living.

It's bad enough I'll have to clean up (No, he's not a slob; just never really used his house to its full potential over the last year, so it's dusty as sin) before I officially move in. So only the essentials will be in the house while everything else sits in the garage. But I've been in such a state of flux in the last year, I'm lucky I don't set a lit match to everything or have an estate sale and just start over.

I hate moving, only because of the stress of where to put all the boxes while I'm trying to pack and living in the space at the same time. The clutter is killing me. I've turned to meditation and deep breathing to keep from killing others around me. Thank god for cleaning out excesses. I have some pageant dresses, a TV and various and sundry to sell if anyone wants them. PLEASE?

No one has asked to help and I haven't sought any help.

Frankly, I'm leery of something being broken again. Seems every move I've had, something gets broken needlessly: some old candle holders. The crystal chalices from my first wedding. My china hutch. I've packed and padded the breakables as much as possible though the antique furniture has me the most worried. There's a tight fit to the narrow staircase in my apartment.

*I* may need the padding (a padded cell) when this is all over.