Utterly Lost

So, we've been waiting since June to have the VA reopen Andy's claim. They shut the whole thing down when he got out, and we've had weekly phone calls to the VA that largely end up getting us nothing but more confused. It's a royal pain in the ass to get stuck talking to random people at call centers who all have different information.

But today, I think we actually might get somewhere, because they finally routed us to the office in Seattle where his file sits, gathering dust, and I guess our squeaky wheel finally got some grease.

Andy's mom and her "Partner" (which is what mature couples are apparently referring to themselves as, because BF and GF is for young folk, but I just think it makes people wonder if it's a man or a woman. Hmmmm...I am going to start referring to Andy as my "partner".) Anyway, they came out from the East Coast for a visit last weekend and I crawled out of my hole (office) long enough to socialize and go to the Sausalito Art Festival. I pretty much sauntered around, looking at things way out of my budget (and I have no more room to put "stuff"...I need a bigger house so I can keep shopping) and they had booze tents everywhere. I had a few glasses of champagne (because I was looking at fine art!) and a few margaritas, which was where it was at.

And, I acquired this...most lovely thing I saw:

It's a hand-bound (like the Monks used to do it, I was informed), purple leather journal with handmade bamboo paper, and antique hardware. It's freaken gorgeous. And cost as much as a 40 inch flatscreen.

I have had it for a week, but only take it out at night to stare at it lovingly. I don't want to just put ANY OLD CRAP in it. This is a book that you would find in an attic chest with some amazing and shocking story in it about your heritage, or like the "Never-Ending Story." I was thinking I really need to get out more so that I have more stories to tell, and then I realized I have quite a few in my basket already. It's just a matter of documenting them. I want my grandkids to read it when I die and both laugh and be shocked that "Nana" was so incredibly awesome.

And yes, I shall be called Nana. It should involve a "knighting" ceremony. "I now deem you evermore..."Nana" of the family." And they touch a baguette to both your shoulders.

There are certain rules to making up what your grandkids call you. Nana's have big boobs, a little extra cushioning, and always have what I refer to as "Mary Poppins" purses, which are large and hold useful things like moist towelettes, mints, crackers and other various ecoutrement meant for entertaining children.

However, I can hopefully make it to my mid 40's before becoming a Nana. But I caught my 12 year old trying to Google search porn on the internet the other day, so that probably won't happen. I had to sit him down and tell him that we have a long standing tradition in both sides of our family in teen pregnancy, and we'd like that to at least skip a generation. I also busted out the story about me having a teen pregnancy at 16, which my kids didn't know about. But I told him that a good rule of thumb is not to start having sex until your "tiny acorn" is big enough to even fit in a condom. Which is not the case at 12. He thinks Charlie Sheen is cool. Which, I think Charlie Sheen is cool too, but I wouldn't exactly want him to be a role model for my teenage sons.

I really need to enroll him in some all-male extracurricular activities.

The birthday of my baby, and no, I don’t look old enough to have a 12 year old.

Yesterday was Taylor’s 12th birthday. It’s interesting to look back and realize that there’s only one more year until he’s a teenager.
Andy and I only dated for about 3 months before we got engaged. We met 3 months after I graduated high school. I was going to a state school in PA, Kutztown University, only because the school I wanted to go to, Pace University in Manhattan, was like $30k a year and my parents couldn’t afford it. So I figured I would do really well in college and get a scholarship and then transfer. I hated Kutztown so badly, I woke up one morning and decided that joining the reserves would give me money to go to school. So I did. The night before you do your contract, the recruiter takes you to the MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station) and you stay at a hotel. This was where I met Andy. He was shipping to basic training the next day. So I have literally been with the man since Day 1 of his military career.

The weekend before I went to basic training, I went down to visit him. This was 6 months after we met. It was Friday the 13th of March, and he proposed to me. I promptly responded by getting pregnant that night and then leaving for basic training. Yes, basic training. I didn’t know because I was only like 3 days pregnant. And I didn’t find out for two more months. I just thought I was so tired because HELLO! IT’S BASIC TRAINING! And I found out by accident too. I went to the clinic to get an ACE bandage for my knee, and I guess it was standard procedure to do a pregnancy test. The doctor came back and told me I was knocked up, and was not really that comforting when I burst in to tears. Army doctors really need to work on their sensitivity training. I knew phone use was limited, so I called my parents and when they didn’t answer, I left them a voicemail. Then I felt bad and had my friend Matt go over to the house and break the news to them. Now THAT is true friendship to tell your friends parents that their 18 year old daughter is pregnant!

I had a stressful pregnancy, being so young. I wasn’t sure what kind of mother I would make, since I didn’t plan to have kids until I was about 30 (never). But I knew more than anything that I did want to have this baby. Andy went through the same fears and anxieties, and the fact he was stationed in GA and I was living in PA with my parents only made things worse. But in the end we made it through, and realized how much we wanted to be a family.

Andy and I didn’t end up getting married until two months after Taylor was born, a fact which Taylor himself realized when doing the math about two years ago. You can’t put anything past these kids. Now we can’t imagine our lives without him. He looks just like Andy and nothing like me, other than his thick hair.

Turns out, having Taylor was the first thing I did that made sense. It was the first step towards being an adult and actually growing up…although that hasn’t even fully happened yet. He changed my life and will always be my little man, even though he will be taller than me in about two years. Happy Birthday, baby.

I’m totally in.

Is it creepy that I am 31 and like the Jonas Brothers?

I totally don’t consider myself some old pervert, but evidently my sons do. I downloaded that “Burnin up” song from the Jonas Brothers and Gavin told me that I am too old to listen to them. Apparently, it’s disturbing to my sons that I am young enough to still listen to pop music, though, I’m not some soccer-mom that has CDs of children’s music and watches tween movies like, “High School Musical.”

Never mind my slight fascination with Zac Efron. (What? I would TOTALLY do him if I were like, 25.(30) sigh.

Taylor took a low blow to my gut at this point with, “When you get to be your age, mom…you have to start listening to Beethoven to increase your brain power so you don’t get “all’s-himers” because then you won’t know us anymore. And calcium because your bones are going to crack when you fall down the stairs” (I actually do trip down the stairs quite often, but more as a result of tripping over our dog than straight clumsiness.)

Then Gavin poured salt in the wound with my favorite, “Yeah, you’re even too old to have any more babies.”

Ummm…I’m 31, so I feel the need to defend my choice to stop popping out children. I’m young, especially to have two kids that are almost teenagers. Of course to them, we seem ancient as all parents do, but having issue with the tag team approach they were taking on my youth, I told them that if they even think of knocking some girl up at the age I was when I got knocked up…I will lock them in their room and ground them. Gavin tried to say he could figure out how to get out without us knowing if I did that, and I told him I would maim him. Like, staple their little balls to the floor. “Try to sneak out the window if I do that!”

Teenage pregnancy is a frequent topic of discussion at my household. We like to horrify the kids beyond imagination by telling them they will have to work at McDonalds for the rest of their lives and never go to Disney World with their children. (Which is about the most horrible thing they can imagine.) I make them watch Teen Mom and then tell them that if they get someone pregnant, they become abusive like Amber.

I also tell them that sex without condoms when you’re not married produces gremlins, which is why they aren’t allowed to eat after midnight.
Haha.

My worst fear as a mother of sons is that they can get MULTIPLE girls knocked up simultaneously. I really thought they would have the male birth control pill by now. When they do come out with it, I will be first in line. Forget parents who actually believe their kids will practice abstinence---I know my spawn. I will totally crush it up in their Capt Crunch, make them snort it…I don’t care. I will make it to my mid-forties before I am called Nana. I have no room in my Coach for packets of crackers and moist towelettes.




I was nominated on Babble's Top 50 Mom Blogs List. So pretty please take two minutes and click here: http://www.babble.com/babble-50/mommy-bloggers/nominate-a-blogger/index.aspx then scroll down to "Glamorous Life" and click on the "like" button.
Thanks a bunch!