You Can't Control the Wind, But You Can Adjust Your Sails

It's not often I get the chance to meet other CHENG wives. They are usually holed up somewhere, holding down the fort. I did, however have the chance to meet one about a week ago. She was so sour and spiteful she had a puckered up look on her face. I had to stop for a minute and realize we were both in the same boat with the difference being she's just been at it about a year longer.

Wow! Does a year make that much of a difference? Am I just going to let myself be a hateful, spiteful bitch to the world because I don't like my husband's job? I really hope not. What a waste of energy. Have I been looking all stick-up-my-ass-ish?

To the Other CHENG's Wife: It might be the crappiest job in the Navy, but at least your husband is safe on a ship. Hell, at least you still have him around to be a father to your children (when he's home). At least he's still on a boat, and, at that, not even on the top side. You know, Other Cheng's Wife he could be in Iraq or Afghanistan leading an EOD squad but he's not.

How about you have a nice cup of STFU. It'll do ya some good.

Jacksonville, round 2!

When John and I got married, we agreed the plan was to get to as many duty stations as possible before we were told where to go. As luck would have it, we're repeating here in Mayport just 7 years in. It's alright, though, as it's been a blessing in disguise to be in a comfortable place with John gone so much. I think it means we've come full circle Navy style so now we're free to get on with the show!

I honestly never could have asked for such a beautiful, fun (read: crazy), loving family from a chance meeting at Beef O'Brady's. We had as much fun as two people, head over heals in lust (ahem, love) could have in just two months. Romantic walks on the St. John's, nights on the beach, dinners at anywhere from the Chart House to the Ale House, bar hopping at the Ritz, The Pub and so many more other random places.

Never did I realize where the Children's Museum was, or the book store with the coolest train table, or the best kiddie care at the gym was. I had no idea what the name of local hospitals were, or the mommy's group or even why people bought memberships to the zoo. Now, I know.

It's been a wild ride and I expect much more for the future!

My Baby is 1

I can't believe how my sweet Ollie suffers from 2nd child syndrome and he has no idea. It is two weeks after his birthday and I've finally had the chance to take a minute to remember his first year.

Weighing in at 21.2 lbs and measuring 31.5 inches, Eli has made his mark in a year. He is a force to be reckoned with. In fact, I actually felt his craziness acknowledged and thought "FINALLY!!! Someone really sees it!" The doctor that saw him started with the normal "So, is he walking?" My automatic reaction was to laugh. Um, how about running XC? Yeah.

Next question: "Does he have many words?" What doesn't this kid talk about? All day long is chatter, chatter, screaming, grunting, chatter. Aside from "Mama, Dada, Turtur (which he always whispers for fear of being pummled, probably), Pop-pop, Non (Noni =Grandma), dog, woof (does that count?), bup (up) and dow (down)" his all time favorite is "liiiiight." He loves to say light, point at the light source and then just do this cute little attached-too-close-to-the-gum tounge roll. For the past two days, he's been obesssed with a picture of John. He stands at the wall and just babbles and says "Dada." Tonight, he said "luh loo" (we've been practicing love you). I about fell over...and then cried. Apparently, his Daddy was the same as a child.

Mr. Elias is passionate, fierce, loyal, destructive and opinionated. I can't believe I know all of those qualities exist in a one year old. He is everything I am not and I love that. I really see all, or most, of the qualities I love about John in Eli. It makes me happy that those qualities will some day shine down from the White House. What? A Mamma can dream...

Every day this child, wanted or not, makes me a better person. He tests my limits and warrants patience the most gracious Southern Belle would be jealous of. He makes me more creative, efficient and loving.

He is, by far, the one person in my life who makes me a better mom daily.

Happy Birthday, Olliewog!

Married Single Mother

A friend made the comment that she was a "married single mother" while her husband was on a 6 month cruise (I use that term loosely as it means deployment!). At the time I thought "I have no idea what I'm going to do when the time comes!" The kids, the housework, the absence of showers, down time, and not having family or many friends in the area. What in the world do I do every day with two toddlers?!?

Well, it might not be a deployment, but it's been a long month. I've done little things like drive the three hours to my parents' for a visit, grocery shop, run errands. Today, though, I decided I was going to take the kids to the beach. Just us on a quick trip to the beach on base. The heavily life-guarded strip of beach on the back side of Mayport Naval Station. Finally, something out of my comfort zone. The big Atlantic ocean that could swallow a child whole and all that sand. What else am I going to do, though? Wallow in my sorrow? It just makes the kids whine more.

Getting out like that made me realize that I can't wait for John. I already knew that, right? I mean, in San Diego and Japan I learned to go to movies, dinner and just explore on my own. Sometimes I still expect John to come home by 4 like in Monterey and Newport, but it's more like 10 (or not at all) these days. I feel like the initial shock has started to wear off, but I would never wish the "single" parent life on anyone. It's hard work. At the end of the day, I feel like I've walked around Disney 10 times. BUT...I'd never want to be on the other side of the fence. I'm pretty sure John's job, especially being away from his buddies, is even more difficult!

The Beginning of Summer!

((This blog is called "OH! The Places We'll Go..." because I want(ed) to chronicle the craziness of our Navy life. The moving, the travelling. I didn't name it "OH! The crazy kids I complain about on a daily basis..." With that said...))

Growing up in Florida, I never really understood what the season of "summer" was. The seasons were hot, hot, hotter and hottest. We were out of school for a few weeks but it sure was hot down that dirt road. We didn't bother to get to the beach much because we could lay out in our back yard (on the black trampoline for that matter!). Who cares about ice cream? We ate it year round. Tank tops and flip-flops? Psssshh! Year round! Summer wasn't about 'dogs on the grill, baseball games, and deck parties. It was about staying indoors, avoiding the insane rays and catching up on all those lazy Saturdays you missed out on during the "fall" and "spring."

Living in New England, I realized what summer is all about. It's about waiting for the last weekend in May - Memorial Day weekend. This sacred last weekend in May is, of course, about honoring our fallen soldiers first and foremost but it's also the unofficial start to Summer.

Cue Jerry Mungo "In the Summertime" song! dee dee dee dee dee dah dah dah dah dah...

Summer in New England is running after the ice-cream truck (the one that comes right at dinner time); wearing the least amount of clothing possible and not getting arrested for indecent exposure; soaking in as much of the sun as humanly possible; picking and eating blueberries as big as quarters; enjoying every minute of the bright green grass; grilling out every day; the sound of the A/C unit sitting in your wall; never complaining about the heat because you know the bitter weather that follows; swimming in any body of water that soothes the soul; eating dinner outside; enjoying an entirely fried platter at a clam shack; kids selling actual lemonade; sand between your toes; the smell of the grass in the morning; standing outside with your neighbors because it's not 16 degrees; big, patriotic American Flags on traditional New England houses; and absolutely savoring the season.

Yes! That's a QUARTER, not a nickle.

Before we lived in Rhode Island, I never understood what the big deal about summer was. In California, it was fun to have the "Indian Summer" and in Japan it felt like being in the South: sticky and miserable. Nothing is as sweet as welcoming in the giggly feeling of Frosty Freeze, Clam Bakes, welcoming people to your summer town and seeing your kids' ice cream faces.

A year ago today...

My baby bearing belly looked like this!I can't belive it's been a year. Wait, yes I can. It's been a long, yet rewarding year. I'm really looking forward to celebrating Ollie's Frist Birthday in a few weeks!

See Mommy Run

My earliest memory of running is from Pine View Middle School. I joined the track team because my mom ran track and I thought it would be cool. I had no idea what I could actually do, so I tried sprinting. I completely sucked and threw up after the 800 during my first meet. At the next practice, I faked a pulled hamstring just so I didn't have to run fast (which I didn't do any way). The coach, Mr. Koop (aka the math teacher) told me to jog it out with the cross country team on their three mile loop in Lake Padgett. I thought I was going to die. But, I finished with my fake pulled hammy.

I loved running.

I felt accomplished. I felt cool. Like I was good at something.

Running in the rain could always cure my teenage angst. It was always a time when I could think straight through all the hormones. I loved hearing my feet on the dirt road.

Fast forward a few years. Running gave me something to do when John was gone for over 280 days while we were stationed in Japan. It gave me peace of mind when I thought I was going crazy with the "baby blues" and it made me feel like me again after having Turner.

It's been since February 2008 (ok, probably a few weeks longer) since I've been on a good run. Most people probably remember how long it's been since they've had a cigarette, eaten a forbidden food, or had sex. I, however, remember how long it's been since I've been on a good run.

I'm done making excuses. I'm running a 5k on Saturday. It's the start of my "run every race up to a marathon by February 2010" goal. Just to check my stamina, I set out yesterday and ran a 5k. Nice. I've still got it. I mean, not the time or anything -but my heart is still in shape. Let's not get on the subject of my flabby ass...

There. I've said it. I'm running a 5k on Saturday. Then it's a 10k, Tour de pain, half marathon and marathon. I've given myself a year because no one really runs these things during the summer down here. I'm hoping this will give me the motivation to remember why I love running. Just because I think it's cool.