Day 30: One Last Moment...

As this 30 day challenge ends, I thought I should share with you the moment that "technically" is the reason I started this here blog in the first place.

The moment I put on a beautiful dress, fixed my hair, and descended the staircase of the church I grew up in to do this...

...is the moment that, unbeknownst to me, this blog would begin to write itself. Without it, there are no Zs, there is no Germany, there is no sending of my husband off to war, and there technically isn't the me I have become.

Oh Em Gee!

My husband informed me of something I really wish I would have known two weeks ago. During a practice PT test, he passed out during the mile and a half run. On the side of the road. Fell over. Completely blacked out. He says he woke up to his coworkers yelling for someone to call 1 1 2. They offered to take him to the hospital to get checked out via ambulance, but he declined, came home, and I took him to the ER. He found out yesterday that this incident wound up in the base newspaper police blotter! While the incident was scary, it really wasn't a big deal. But, there were still 3 ambulances and a fire truck sent to the scene. Personally, I think that's a bit of overkill. Paulo wants to know how they justify spending the gas for all of that. And really? A fire truck? That is the part I just really don't understand!

Shower Scenes ala Hitchcock

Can I make a(nother) confession to you all? Of course I can! Why else would I have a blog? Once upon a time, my little brother took a baseball cleat to the calf. It was gross. But, since I'm awesome, I helped him get it all cleaned up and bandaged. We determined that his newly growing leg hair was going to cause problems keeping it clean and things. And in all my awesomeness, I shaved his leg for him. I think the idea of shaving BOTH legs was discussed. Being the older, wiser, and better looking family member, I said that it was a bad idea for some reason or another. Honestly I secretly hoped someone would notice the large, missing patch of leg hair, and make fun of him. That was the last time I ever wielded a razor against the leg hair epidemic and no blood was shed. It was also the first time I ever shaved someone else's legs. (The only time as well.) It never fails that I will cut myself while shaving. I am not sure why for and how's come this is the case. I honestly don't. I've tried switching razors and shaving creams. Each and every time I end up bleeding. 98% of those times are in the same place. The bottom of my shin. You know, where your ankle crinkles when you move your foot. I told Paul the other day that if they ever need him to identify a body presumed to be me, that the rows of scars would assist greatly in the identification. He gave me a look. I told him you never know when the gang of dancing ninja men who know how to twirl will make an appearance...

Wordless Wednesday ~ Why I 'oughta!!

For more Wordless Wednesday go here and here!

S.O.O.C. ~ Get Up Daddy!

Little Z really wanted Daddy to get up and take pictures with her on Easter Sunday. So much so that she had to recruit Ms Holly to help her pull him! One should never mess with determined little girls!

Maggot? Is That Yu?

In high school, I had a friend named Mon. No really. His name was the Rastafarian word for "man". His "middle" name is Git. Mon Git Yu. We used to chase him around yelling "Mon get you!" Because we were awesome. And 3 years old. Maggot (as we LOVINGLY reffer(ed) to him) is of course, Chinese. His family owns a Chinese restaurant in my home town. The best part of being friends with someone who not only works at, but whose family owns the place means that occasionally you get free food. Maggot's mommy was the queen of forcing us to eat, even if we weren't hungry. If we were to walk in, we got the line: "Ah, you Mon Git friend. You want some food? Some drank? Some fortune cooookie?" Without fail! Still randomly happens to this day. (Maggot's mommy is adorable. And we've heard only talks to Budha when she is drunk...) Last night, I went to get Chinese food for the Hub's birthday. (He's old now. 26.) I went to our favorite place around here, just outside one of the gates. After I ordered our "usual" (2 orders of cheese wontons, 1 sweet and sour chicken, and 2 orders of General Tso's chicken) the cute little old man behind the couter asked: "You want egg roll? You need egg roll. I make you one for free." And I can't help but think that some how, he must be Maggot's relative! **I enjoyed the egg roll very much. And did not share with my kids. Because I'm mean. And he said *I* needed the egg roll. Not them!**

That's One Way To Put It

We own the ClickStart Computer from Leapfrog. It is a fantastic product, that keeps my children entertained for hours, and keeps them from bugging ME to go to pollypocket.com. The ONLY problem I have with this "computer" is the wireless keyboard. It goes through batteries fairly quickly. (Which we have recently replaced with rechargeable ones.) Last weekend, I neglected to hook back up the things I unplugged while cleaning the carpets. Today I finally replaced the batteries in the keyboard, and I got busted for unplugging things in the little one's room. Thus leading to the following conversation with Little Z and her daddy. *z*: Daddy! Quick! It's a 'mergency! Daddy: Come here and tell me what you want! *z*: My TV is plugged out! Come put it back! Daddy: Your TV is what? *z*: It's plugged out! Daddy: You mean it's unplugged? *z*: Yes! It won't turn on! Daddy: Say "un-plugged". It's un-plugged. *z*: Un-plugged. Daddy: So what is your TV? *z*: IT'S BROKEN!!!

Of Mad Cow, and other diseases...

When you donate blood, you must fill out a small survey so that they may assess your current health. Some of the questions are also used to let you know that you are not capable of donating blood at that moment. Things like, being on certain medications, or having a piercing less than 6 months old, or a tattoo younger than a year old. The ONE question that I always found to be none of their flippin' business was this: "Have you had sexual intercourse with someone who has lived in Europe since 1980?" Um? Isn't that extremely nosy, and specific? I never understood why that would exclude someone from giving blood, but I have since been educated as to how dumb that question ACTUALLY is. In the 1980s, there was an outbreak of Mad Cow disease. And everyone there was excluded from giving blood for the rest of their known lives. And so now is everyone who has had sex with those people. Guess what?! The Hubs lived in Europe after 1980... I'm O- and can no longer donate blood. Unless I lie, and say we've never had mattress mambo. (Which would make me birthing his two children extremely hard to explain!) Last Friday, I went to the dentist and was placed on antibiotics for an infection. On Thursday, I discovered two spots that looked to be spider bites on my hip. Hubs had said he found a spider or two in our room, so we thought nothing of it. (It wasn't a black widow or brown recluse, so I wasn't worried about the bites.) Yesterday however, I woke up with about 1/4 of my body covered in big, itchy, swollen, red welts. Hives on a grand scale. I am allergic to anything listed with "cilin" in the name. I have since gone to the clinic (yesterday) and the ER today (because it's not about 1/3 of my body covered by these spots). My purse looks like a pharmacy. And now, I not only could have gotten Mad Cow disease as an STD, but I look like a leper. Happy Freakin' Valentine's Day ya heifers!

I had an anniversary....

A week ago, the Hubs and I celebrated 5 years of marriage. We love each other to death. But mostly the death part. (Just kidding...I think...) Here is what we looked like on our wedding day... And last April we looked like this... Aren't we cute? Okay, not really. But he's pretty cute. I'll keep him for at least five more years. (Can I make a comment on the girl in the white dress? Why didn't anyone make her eat a cheeseburger?! That is not okay...the dress is a size 2 1/2. I never want to fit in it ever again...)