The Pros of (Temporary) (Military-Related) Single Parenthood

Yesterday, we went over the cons of such a situation. But today we celebrate the silver linings! It’s not always bad. Even in college we had summer and winter breaks apart, giving us an opportunity to miss/appreciate/become less annoyed with the other. PROS That span of 2005.5-2008.5 where we didn’t have a break?

Yeah, I don’t want to talk about that. Deployments can be good! We’ve come to enjoy them, at least parts of them. 

Plus they don’t exactly hurt the bank account and are pretty much the reason I don’t have to schlep to work every day any more…

Anyway, let’s get started! 

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The Cons of (Temporary) (Military-Related) Single Parenthood

Clearly, things could be harder. I could always be a single parent. But I’m not. I have pride in my husband who has chosen an important career even if it means he is away from home several months at a time. Even then, I know it could be three to four times longer than that. I’ve accepted this as OUR situation, both before and after we had a kid. And obviously, there will be more cons than pros, I’m not heartless. But there are, in fact, a few pros. We’ll get to those tomorrow. PROS

Quite honestly, I’m used to this routine, I’m happy to find good moments where good moments lie. And while things change (i.e. get ridiculously harder) as the kid grows, you just gotta MAN UP and roll with the punches. Even if you just want to punch yourself in the boob sometimes.

So on with the CONS:
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Photo Friday: Mama’s Little Toddler Muddy Butt

How’s THAT for a catchy title, eh?! So much for that one-post-a-week resolution; I missed like two weeks. But whatever, if I hadn’t said anything you would have probably never noticed. And if you DID notice, well, I pledge to you my undying gratitude and love. And applaud your devotion to this !$!@# failblog.

ANYWAY. Maryland saw waaaay more than it’s fair share of snow this season and while I for one reveled in the white glory, it is now beyond mid-$%@#$-March. Even I’m ready for spring at this point. The last of our recent fluke 6-inch snowfall melted yesterday, leaving behind a wonderfully destroyed yard of muck and mud. In which I wanted to stomp.

What can I say, my fraternity mud wrestling days are hard to leave behind! I’ve been looking for a pair of rain boots for Little A so we can stomp in rain puddles and I would have a reason to wear my polka dot boots, but have yet to find any for him. But today the sun was shining, the wind was blowing and there was a lovely little puddle next to our driveway that was just begging to be stomped in.

Can...can I touch it?

Can…can I touch it?

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You’re Always on My Mind.

I’ve been writing this post in my head for 364 days. I’ve been writing it in many forms but every time I sit down to actually write it, nothing comes. It started with no intro, it started with Dear #$!#$ Baby, it started with Dear Daver. One for me, one for the kid to learn about his uncle, one for my brother. It was a timeline of events of the week. It was a description of who he was. It was an introspective of how I handled (or didn’t handle) the grief I was left with.

While I think all those things still need to be written, I feel like this just needs to be a reflection of the past year. And someday I’ll muster up the courage to tell the whole lot of stories that need to be told. Even with that being said, I’m finding it hard to find the words to say the things I’m not sure to say.

I just cannot figure out how to say what’s in my heart and been rolling in my head since February 24, 2013.

I’ve started and restarted and been distracted and poured a drink and deleted and began again. Repeat.

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That Time I Lied to You All.

I’m terrible. Last week, I flat out lied to you. I didn’t intend to, but I totally did. I spilled my guts on Valentine’s Day on Facebook so you may have already seen me expose myself. If you don’t follow me on Facebook, what the @#%@! is wrong with you?!

vdaylie

Allow me to explain myself further.

We cancelled our plans at the local meat house. It was Atlantic City’s fault.

We went to AC for a quick getaway romp, as a break from that literal snot-faced kid and to have a moment together before Big A leaves again. We love to gamble, we love Vegas, it’s a short drive away, it seemed like a good plan. We were just unprepared as to HOW good of a plan it was. Our only concern, really, was that we would be snowed in up there. And if we had, big flipping whoop, what’s one more night?! But we weren’t. It didn’t even snow enough to stick and my plans to make a snowman with the bartender at Hard Rock were disappointingly squashed. I did hit some lucky streaks and decided AC was my town.

ANYWAY. To the food and the abandonment of our plans. We had picked a few random places to try that were sort of off-Boardwalk and had amazing Yelp reviews. We opted for the Iron Room first because the place offered a ridic huge whiskey menu. That was all we needed, really. It took us each like ten minutes to browse the booze menu. I was not anticipating the experience to be my #2 dining experience OF ALL TIME. (The #1 being a stupid expensive Batali/Bastianich steak dinner in Vegas).

We each got a flight – three scotch for him, three bourbon for me. (and three beers for George Thorogood, am I right?!) And we selected few tapas-type plates to nom on. Steak Frites with pepper gravy. Good. Steak Tartare. Great, once I got over the texture and raw thing. (Big A ordered it well done. The kitchen didn’t listen.) And Sweet Fried Chicken on a duck fat and cheddar waffle with lavender velouté. @!#$%! AMAZING. I’m pretty sure Big A and I would have stabbed each other with forts had the portion been any smaller. We were thisclose to licking the plate clean. I’m drooling right now, just reliving it. 

Chicken and Waffle, Round 1. It's blurry because I just wanted to $%@# eat it.

Chicken and Waffle, Round 1, Iron Room. It’s blurry because I just wanted to $%@# eat it.

So for something completely different than raw steak and gourmet chicken and waffles, the next night we opted to go to a supper club called Kelsey’s for…chicken and waffles. Soul food chicken and waffles. With maple syrup. And mac and cheese. And cornbread. And the cutest older ladies rocking the karaoke night. Ughhhhhh. So much goodness.

Chicken and Waffle, Round 2. Pre-syruped.

Chicken and Waffle, Round 2, Kelsey’s. Pre-syruped.

Two dinners. All the chicken and waffles Atlantic City had.

Plus an amazing pulled pork sandwich, buffalo chicken strips, gas station cheese-stuffed pretzels, hot dogs and slightly hungover Panda Express. So much. Too much. We didn’t even wake up in time for breakfasts and still managed to cram in all the foods.

And that’s why we decided to forgo the Fogo. We just wouldn’t be able to give it the appreciation it deserves so we’re saving it for another day when the chicken and waffles are a distant memory and we dream once again of copious amounts of meat.

I’m sorry I disappointed you. Is there anyway I can make it up to you?

A photo of me and some delicious bourbon? Ok!

Basking in the goodness.

Basking in the goodness.