sunny side of life

Since November, I’ve had a webcam for a husband.

I feel bad complaining, because if you think back, even 10-ish years ago, this never would have been a possibility for deployed men and their families.

However, it is now, and so I’m spoiled. No use mincing words around here.

I’ve been able to webcam with my husband once every 1-2 weeks. It’s been nice enough; it certainly isn’t what I actually want or need, but it’ll have to do for now I suppose.

So now, my husband is being sent to another location where he won’t have Internet access. For. Three. Weeks. I’m sure you think I’m just being silly. I have done this before you know. He was gone for almost 7 months during the year before we got married and I was only able to talk to him on the phone a couple of times during that particular training period.

It’s different now, though. He’s not in the country. We’re married this time. (which brings into play a whole new way of becoming closer to one another) I love him more. And on and on the list goes. I’m comfortable with my webcam-husband. It’s the only piece I have left and now they’re taking that away from me!

Oh the humanity!

This is a picture of me with my date at my Senior Prom, 6 years ago this month:

Obviously, this man is not my wonderful husband. I decided to participate in Throwback Thursday (for the first time ever!) because it amazes me how much my life has changed since High School. Just sixyears ago. Y’see, I thought for sure that I was going to marry the man in this picture, but I didn’t. (Much to the apparent chagrin of one Mr. Bitler) And I thought, for kicks and shiggles, that I would do a “Top Ten” list of my own. So, I give you;

The (top, because there are many more than are listed here) Ten Things I learned from my Highschool Prom date (my then boyfriend):

10. Pretty does not mean perfect. (except of course in my case)

9. Women should not pursue men. It’s their job, and they’ve also been cursed with the desire to let the woman have her “reign” over them, and so if you do the pursuing, you’re also giving them a good reason to let you do all of the courting and wooing too. Which leads me to….

8. If you pay for his meals, not only does he not owe you that money, but why should he pay for yours if you’re so willing to fork over the cash?

7. Your significant other should want to be around you all of the time.

6. 2nd chances should be just that. Second chances, not 3rd or 4th or 5th……

5. No man’s feet deserve to be graveled at. NONE. (I’m speaking figuratively here, please do not think that I actually graveled at his feet)

4. If he says he’s not sure about you/his feelings for you/your relationship…..GET OUT. He knows you’re week and will settle for 2nd best, so he has no reason to give 100% of himself to you. He will be looking out for someone better than you.

3. There is no one better than you. It’s a shame that he doesn’t see it, but that’s his loss; don’t spend your whole life trying to make him realize that you are the best. He should be opening your door and buying you flowers and such. Unfortunately, he’ll only get it after it’s too late.

2. If NONE of your friends/family think he’s right for you, THEY’RE RIGHT!

And the number ONE thing that I learned from my Highschool Prom date is….

1. I cannot change people, only God can. No matter how much sweeter I wanted him to be, or more committed, or more romantic, or more whatever…….he wasn’t. And I spent far too much of my time agonizing over it. Wasted time. Time I could have spent perfecting my relationship with God, preparing myself for the man who he really wanted me to spend my life with.

I’m sure to some of you I sound bitter, or angry, but I can assure you that those feelings are only toward myself, for allowing it to happen. We were young (remember? highschool) but I had an adult mentality with relationships and wanted far more from him (emotionally) than he was ready to give.

I’m not making excuses for him, it’s true. I think of adult men who act that way much differently; they need to grow up. We were just kids and I thank God every day that he was in my life for 2 reasons.

-As a friend, he was awesome and we really did have some good times together.

-I have an appreciation for my Husbandthat I don’t think I would have otherwise. My husbandeven gets the little things right; He opens doors, surprises me with cards and flowers, and treats me like the lady (or princess, as these terms are interchangable) that I am. I love him so much, and in looking back, don’t think that I would have changed the course of things even if I could.

Today, for the first time since his birth, a month ago, I met my nephew Colin. (I do believe that he is the. cutest. little. baby. boy. EVER. No bias here, of course.) It was a good time spent with my Brother and Sister-in-law and my nieces too. I was able to chat with them about what’s been happening since I saw them last (I think it was February, sheesh! I’m not winning any sister-in-law of the year awards over here!) and I really felt, well, home with them.

I specify my feelings on being with them for this reason; I haven’t felt like that in a while. It was comfortable, warm. And I didn’t understand why I suddenly felt this way until I left:

It reminded me of my husband.

At first glance, you don’t really see much of a resemblance between my husband and his brother. Husband is 6′5″ with fair skin and red hair. And he’s a little bigger-boned than his brother, who is 6′0″ with brownish-blackish hair and olive-y skin. (they came from the same set of parents, can you believe it?) But upon closer inspection, you really start to notice the similarities. Alot of their features are the same. And some of their mannerisms. It’s kind of like an over-all, general resemblance. So it’s hard not to think of my husband when I’m around his brother. Especially when my husband isn’t around and hasn’t been for some 5 1/2 months now. It doesn’t help that I’m not usually over their house without my husband. So that drudges up all kinds of emotion too.

It really hit me hard after I left though. I felt like I was leaving Luke all over again. It was almost like he was there, in that house, and I wasn’t allowed to stay. (As an aside, it wasn’t like they kicked me out, I mean I’m sure they would have loved to, I didn’t leave until 10:30 and they have three children. I chose to leave so they could get some semblance of somthing resembling sleep) I actually cried on the way home. Because I felt like I finally had a piece of my husband back and then I had to give it back.

What my sister-in-law said tonight is so true:

“It’s harder for the person left behind. They’re the one who has to still be around everything that reminds them of their spouse. Like, Oh I remember when we went there….”

It’s just so true. And it’s what makes this hurt so bad.

-that your roots didn’t just sneak-attack you out of the middle of nowhere? Seriously. It’s like, one day all will be right with the world (hair-wise) and then the next day it’s like Whoa! You mean I’m not a natural white-blonde?

-that you could actually shop from the Pottery Barn catalog? I don’t mean like “Yes! My tax-refund check came! Let’s get that lamp I saw….” I mean like, “I’d like page 72, 90, and 145, please. Everything on those pages.”

-that bathrooms cleaned themselves. Like so you could just wake up tomorrow morning and go have breakfast at Cracker Barrel with Lemons without having to do that first.

-while we’re on the topic of bathrooms, how about wishing that the men in your life could actually aim with their “aiming devices”? Seriously guys, point and shoot, it’s not that difficult. In fact, you’re all pretty successful playing Playstation with that method. Or paintball. Or you know, in a real gun-fight.

-that my husband wasn’t so far away and I actually had a husband and not a web-cam? Sorry, I had to throw that in there.

-that life was full of weekends?

So, what do you think?

Is this the right color outfit? It doesn’t make my butt look fat, does it? Do you think it brings out my eyes? Does it compliment my figure?

I LOVE IT!

A VERY special thanks to DCRMom over at Musings of a Housewife for doing such a great job of beautifying my blog. Isn’t she awesome? I think so.

Now go on over there and buy some new bloggy clothes for yourself!

…of a mother of 4.

Or really, 3 days.

We have some friends who have 5 children (one is away in the Navy) who went to Vegas* and needed someone to watch their children/house/dogs for a couple of days. This couple did a lot for Husband and I in our dating days, and so when the wife called me up to ask if I would be up to the task of watching her kiddos, I couldn’t have said yes quick enough. Plus, her kids are pretty awesome, so that helps in the decision-making process. This isn’t, however, something I would do for just anyone. Four kids is a big responsibility.

So Monday, in addition to having the four kids for the day (when they weren’t in school), I also had my regular “nanny” responsibility, which includes the 2 year old and 3 year old I’ve mentioned here before. Six children. Four of which are under the age of five. (Note to self: have someone shoot you if you ever have quadruplets.) And it was raining. (Note to self: check the weather report before you agree to house/baby/dog sit again.) Needless to say, between feeding the “four under five” lunch, running the twins to pre-school, going to Wal-Mart, trying to squeeze a nap in for my “nanny” kids, picking all four back up from school, all the while in a conversion van,(Note to self: as practical as they seem, they are never cool, never, please don’t every buy one. Remember that you’d rather carry six children on your back than drive one of these things.) then on to after-school snack, homework, and dinner, I was pretty excited to drive 45 minutes to school to have some adult time. Even though I was being lectured the whole time. (Haha, I made a funny!)

Today was a little less hectic (surprisingly) since I had work and the twins didn’t have preschool and their Aunt watched them until I got off of work. The twins, I mean, the older 2 have school all day every day. Although I still had to cart them home, help with homework, do my own homework and then turn around a take a final (which I think I did alright on).

Tomorrow is the last day I’ll have them. It will resemble today, except that I don’t have class and so I can spend my last night with them, well, with them.

As much as I’ve enjoyed this experience, I gotta tell ya, it is the most effective form of birth control I’ve met yet (As a side note, I really think that condoms are the least effective. Not necessarily because they don’t work, but because they’re not so much fun to use, if you catch my drift. I mean, I hate using them, and so I prefer not to, and I do believe that that is how babies are born. Anyway.). Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to be a mom; I’d jump at the chance if my husband were here and we had a house to actually put a child in; but I would never want to be thrust into it full force, right off the bat. (Just so you know, I do know that that’s not how it usually happens, I’m just saying)

So that’s my day in the life. I hope you’ve enjoyed it, and I’m sure all you moms out there are like yeah, and? But I’m here to tell you that I started with none and did a pretty darn good job with four, by myself for 4-ish days. Accident free. I think that qualifies me for a medal, no?

*Um, they’re not like party people, the husband actually had a conference there** and the wife was allowed to come along for the ride.

**I’m not sure why anyone would schedule a conference in Vegas if they actually want to get anything accomplished.

“You look like Kristin Cavalleri!” she yelled over the crowd

“Really?!”

“Yeah, you really do, she’s your celebrity twin!”

I pride myself in being able to find a person’s celebrity twin. I can’t do it with every person, and sometimes it takes me a while to figure it out, but when I do, I’m always spot on. Seriously. Whenever I finally make a connection and share it with other people, most of them agree with me.

I haven’t been able to figure mine out though. I think it has something to do with the fact that I see myself too frequently or something. But whatever, someone else figured it out for me. I suppose there could be worse people to resemble.

Here’s to you twinny.

From about the second I figured out that I was Italian, and had the ability to think, I have wanted to visit Italy.

Now, I’ll admit, that I’m not as Italian as my pride suggests.

My great grandfather came over from Italy when he was 13. Now, while I know that it’s not terribly far-removed from my generation, it’s the marrying-out of the Italian-ness that has me all blonde, blue-eyed,  and whatnot. (Just so you know, I’m fully aware that Northern Italians are in fact blonde and blue-eyed, however, my great-grandfather is from Southern Italy, where the dark-haired, dark-skinned folks are from. Hence, my dilemma.)

Anyway, I’m Italian. And proud. I believe this is what we’ve established so far.

So, I tell you all of that, to tell you this.

My husband is deployed this year. (Newsflash!) He gets leave time, and I’m kind of a demanding wife in that I want to see him when he’s on leave.

So this is what we’ve been able to figure out: It’s freakin’ expensive to fly all the way to where he is, and vice versa. (Not to mention that his current location doesn’t so much inspire happy vacation thoughts in me, this seems to be only me, as most people who know his location think I’m nuts and would LOVE to vacation where he is, but I’m not them, and so I have no interest in it.) So we looked into meeting halfway. And you know what? It’s cheaper for us to meet in Rome, Italy than it is for us to buy a ticket for the other to go all the way to where the other is. Make sense? If not, here’s what I mean in a nutshell……

I’M GOING TO ITALY!!!!!!!

I know, right? I’m totally excited for me, too! It won’t be until LATE in the summer, like say August or so, but who cares? I’ll be able to see my husband! (in Italy!) And spend time with him! (in Italy!) And hang out, and chat, and do….married stuff! (in Italy!) And tour Rome! (in Italy, but that was kind of implied, huh?)

I almost can’t believe it, and probably won’t actually believe it until I land. IN ITALY!

My brother and some of his friends will be accompanying me on this trip for 2 reasons:

1. I hate flying. Instead of totally freaking out a stranger on the plane by digging my nails into his skin and grabbing onto his pants’ legs, I will make sure that it is my brother to whom this torture will belong.

2. He really wants to go to, and so who am I to stop him?

I know what you’re thinking. “You’re brother is going with you to Italy? Where you’ll meet up with your husband after having not seen him for 8 months. Won’t you want some, um, privacy?”

Yes we will. And we will have it.

Y’see, my brother’s, friend’s, parents (did you get that chain of people?) have a time-share, and they’re letting us use it to get TWO rooms (which are separate and apart from one another) and all we have to do is pay the fee (which is like $100-ish) for the week! It’s a steal I tell you, a steal!

So it’s all set. I’m going to Italy.

Oh, and seeing my husband too. Can’t forget that!

I miss you so much.