Jesus rides in a Chinook

After posting my first blog I think I should make a few general statements.

There were countless typos in that thing!

I love commas and use them more than anyone should and in all the wrong places.

I can identify Army helicopters by their sound.

This is my latest talent.  The Black Hawks are loud but not crazy.  If my Pottery Barn candle wall décor is shaking then it is one Chinook.  (I must insert that I have very deep feelings for this candle holder.  The Soldier doesn’t like it because of the many nail holes required to keep it on the wall.  I am beginning to wonder if he is trying to organize flight patterns in a manner to destroy it!  If these Chinooks break my candle, swirly, circle thing I am going to send the Army a bill!)  Anyway, one Chinook rattles the wall, two Chinooks wake up the girls and three or more makes me thing Jesus is returning.  Seriously, I once got out of bed to look.  It wasn’t Jesus.  It is cool to think how scary that must be for the bad guys. J

The day didn’t start well when Thing 1 announces “Mommy, I didn’t get poop on the stairs! Aren’t you happy?”  I then proceeded to break a plate on the floor while making breakfast.  The only thing worse than a broken glass is broken glass when Thing 2 is spending her entire life trying to eat all the dangerous objects she can find.  

I take the girls to the mall often not to shop but just to get out of the house and eat Chick-fil-a.  I have issues with that place.  Why does the kiosk man ask me every time "ma’am do you ever flat iron your hair?”

I want to say…really dude? Can’t you see that I am pushing a double stroller and have carrots stuck to my shirt?  I spent the morning wondering why Thing 1’s poop was blue and cleaning glass off the floor but sure I made time for the flat iron and fake eyelashes. (Actually, I think the eyelashes have come out only once since the baby was born and that was to a Change of Command ceremony where there are lots of fancy and important people).  Anyway I digress, NO, I did not have time to fix my hair! I just kept walking.  Then I looked down at my stroller at two girls in coordinating outfits with matching hair bows.  Sigh.  I always find the time to make them look perfect. 

I made cake pops for Thing 1’s birthday party.  I am obsessed with cake pops and perfecting them has taken over my life.  I highly recommend you do not try to make them.  They take forever and you will never get them to look like Bakerella’s.  This evening I was fighting my cake pops and my Soldier walks into the kitchen.  Now, I should note that he often has very good suggestions that save me time and energy but today when he asked “wouldn’t that look better if the chocolate wasn’t so thick?” I thought about stabbing him with a cake pop.  In related sugar news, blue ice cream with Daddy the night before = blue poop.  Daddy was busted again. Another mystery solved by Momma who sees ALL.

Side note for non Army people - ACU’s are the uniform you see the guys in all the time.  The camo.  I can’t remember what it stands for.  In the Army, EVERYTHING is an acronym.  They were called BDU’s or Battle dress uniforms but that never made sense to me either.  “battle dress?”  What are the redcoats coming or something?  Anyhow…someone decided BDU’s were out and ACU’s are in.  (yes, yes, I know they changed the pattern. Details)

Earlier this afternoon another Soldier came by the house to pick up something.  Both the girls got so excited when he came up the walk but were immediately disappointed.  When you’re small, everyone in ACU’s looks just like Daddy.  This mistaken identity happens quite often.

“Does he work with my Daddy? Where is MY Daddy?” she asks me.

 

Her question reminded me of the month that is leering at me from the calendar.  I hate the calendar. It made me wonder for the 100^th time how I will ever explain it to her and I started to cry.