Because tomorrow's the big day...

As of tomorrow afternoon, Adam and I will be very proud homeowners. It was pretty scary at first, going through the whole process, but now the excitement has set in, and I'm thrilled to be able to own a home. A very nice home at that, also.

Unfortunately, we can only spend a little time at the house after the closing, because we have to turn around and come right back to Fort Benning. The movers are coming Wednesday to pack everything up, and then they will pick up everything on Friday. Addison and I will head there Sunday, with Adam to follow hopefully on Tuesday.

While I'm not looking forward to the whole moving process, especially living in this shell of a shithole house right now, I'm already envisioning a nice, long soak in my garden tub, surrounded by candles and my sign I got at Hobby Lobby. It's a metal sign that has the famous hockey mom-pitbull quote on from Sarah Palin. I figured it would go good on my new tub next to the fake plant!

I can't wait until Adam, Addison and I are situated in our new home, with a roaring fire, watching football together. I can't wait to go to Paula Deen's restaurant or at least her store and get myself a Lady & Sons T-shirt. I can't wait to explore Savannah, and go to Tybee Island.

Wishing you all a very Happy New Year! My resolution is the same as every year - to not make a resolution, because I am just not that kind of person. But if you do, good luck with it!

Because it's Christmas...

Because it's Christmas, I want to wish you all a very happy and safe holiday. May you enjoy all the blessings of the season, and enjoy the company of family and friends.

I hope Santa is good to you all. He bought me an awesome house, which we will own as of Tuesday, so, thank you very much Santa! I guess I wasn't as naughty as I thought.

Let me close this with asking you all to say a special prayer for all of our servicemembers overseas this season. I'm thinking of them all, saying thanks for their sacrifices and service, especially to my brother Eddie, who will be headed home soon. Stay safe, bro.

Because it's the week before Christmas...

Because it's the week before Christmas, I'm running around like everyone else. Shopping? Done. Cards sent out? Done. Everything else? Doing.

I've finally finished all my handmade gifts. I can't say what they are, because some of my readers (that would be family) are getting one. I've made six total, and each one takes about 2 to 3 hours.

Adam and I have been clearing and cleaning out the house. It's hard to not be able to pack up stuff, because we're letting the Army send movers to do all that. We are making it very easy for them though, and have donated a ton of stuff and thrown out anything not donation-worthy. It's amazing what you amass in just a few years, and what you really don't need. I encourage everyone to go through their stuff and donate to charity. I hope it makes someone's Christmas a little brighter.

I've done a million things so far today, and this week is going to be a lot of the same. My mom is coming to visit Wednesday through Sunday, so the house needs to get a good cleaning, from vacuuming to bathroom cleaning. I've mailed out two boxes to friends and family full of Christmas presents, and just have one left to get together and send out. Once Adam gets a firm moving date Thursday, I can start the whole change of address stuff. I've got grocery shopping, bill paying, you name it, I've got it.

Gotta go...

Because I have the sensitivity chip Brad is missing...

The title refers to a quote from Jennifer Aniston, who once said that former husband Brad Pitt was missing a sensitivity chip, which I thought was pretty funny and bold of her to say.

But I digress...

I had thought I was all but hardened by living the Army life. I was proved wrong yesterday, and I apologize to the Army.

I got word early yesterday morning that my dear friend and neighbor's father had died unexpectedly. I called my "second mom" for advice on how to handle it. I'm very uncomfortable in situations like that, but I knew the right thing to do was to go over and offer any comfort.

As soon as I opened the door and heard her crying, I immediately burst into tears. I went into the living room, and saw her lying, curled up on the couch, clutching pictures of her dad and sobbing. I ran over and wrapped my arms around her, tears just coming down my face. My friend is strong, but I could tell she was utterly devastated. She's a daddy's girl, the daughter that made him most proud. I sat next to her, with my hand on her head, until her husband got home and I felt it was time to leave and let the family grieve together.

It hurts, big time, to see a friend in so much pain. I wish I could bear some or all of her pain. I wish I could bring her dad back to her, if just for the chance for her to be able to say goodbye to him.

It's also a reminder to me to that shitty things happen to good people everyday.

To my family and friends, I love you. I know I don't always say it or act it, but I do. I appreciate every one of you and you all are in my prayers, every single night.

Because sometimes I forget how witty I am...

Because I sometimes forget how witty I am, I end up feeling like an idiot.

I remembered last week that we still had a gift card to Chefs.com from Adam's family. Dang, I thought, let's buy something for the new house. Adam and I decided to get a new toaster, since our toaster oven is at that "Yeah I'll clean it and it will still be dirty" stage. Adam also picked out some really nice stainless-steel mixing bowls and we only ended up paying $3.48.

We put in the order online, and because I'm weird, I always write myself a gift message. Hey, it's free, and when I would buy stuff online while Adam was deployed, I would always write myself little notes like, "You're doing a great job Erin!" and cheesy stuff like that. When I got whatever I bought in the mail, it was a nice reinforcement from myself.

Today the FedEx guy dropped off a big package. I opened it, after telling the Baby dog that my new toaster was here, and the first thing I saw was a Cuisinart coffeemaker. Huh? Then I saw a little card on it that said "Happy Housewarming! From the Nash Family."

I seriously thought that Adam's dad, who had given us the gift card, had sent us housewarming presents. Oh boy, I thought, I just bought a new Cuisinart coffeemaker on a great sale a few weeks ago. I went through it in my mind how I would tell him thanks, but I just bought a new one.

Then I noticed another box. Inside it was stainless steel mixing bowls! Wow, what a coincidence! That's when it hit me-I was a total idiot.

This was OUR order, and the company messed up and sent me a coffeemaker instead of a toaster, even though on the invoice it says a KRUPS DIGITAL COUNTDOWN TOASTER. So, because they're stupid, I have to rebox it and drive 20 minutes to get to a Kinko's and return it.

Their stupidity made me realize my own. Now I'm going to hibernate until I need to use my brain again, which, for society's sake, I really hope isn't anytime soon.

Because I'm superstitious...

Because I'm a lifelong Red Sox fan, I'm superstitious. Unless you're a Sox fan, you probably don't know what I'm talking about, but trust me, I've helped the Sox win two championships in the last four years, so I take my superstition to a whole new level.

Anyway, those of you who know me know that we are moving to the Savannah area in January. Adam and I decided that buying a home was our best option, with the market being favorable to us as buyers, and the fact that we didn't want to send Addison to a crappy school.

I haven't blogged about this whole experience but here and there, because I always think that I'm going to jinx something about it. We started out with a really bad experience, which toughened us up and thickened our skin, and now seem to be on the right path.

I will write all about everything once we have the keys to our house. Until then, I'll have to think of other stuff to write about, because I'm not jinxing this!

Because I'm a girl...

Because I'm a girl, Addison has come to me for relationship advice. I know, he's 9 years old, and wants my take, as a girl, on his love life.

He had a girlfriend for a long time, even though I'm pretty sure they didn't even talk to each other, but that's how they roll in fourth grade.

He told his girlfriend last week that he thinks they "should see other people." His words exactly, I almost peed my pants when he told me that but managed to keep a straight face. This is serious stuff, folks.

Addison decided he wanted to ask out another girl in his class, and is very nervous about it. She lives up the street, so he made three separate papers asking her out in different ways. He is too chicken to go put one in her mailbox.

Yesterday she was rollerblading around the neighborhood and Addison said he asked her out, and she just smiled and walked away. He's been grilling me ever since then, asking me what it meant, because I'm a girl, so I would know.

"Maybe she's really shy?" I offered. It wasn't good enough for him so he's still pestering me, asking me about when I was young and how we did the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing.

Son, I told him, I didn't have a real boyfriend until 8th grade, and if I could remember 21 years ago how we got "asked out" I'd be more than happy to tell you.

And so it goes...

Because I'm jaded...

Because I'm jaded, I'm not really looking forward to going back to Savannah tomorrow. We already went and looked at houses, made an offer, and had a horrific time of it (Thanks again, DR Horton, you asshat company).

I'm trying to remain optimistic, because honestly, time is running out and we need to find a house. I'm not desperate for a house, but it would be nice to find one that fits most of our criteria. We're not looking for a dream house, we're only living there for a few years, but we would like to enjoy it while we're there.

So, back to the grindstone Saturday morning. I'm excited to meet our real estate agent and talk some Sox. I'm not happy to spend my Saturday going house to house instead of watching college football from the couch.

I'm trying, I really am. To be jaded this early in the whole real estate experience doesn't bode well for anyone. Time for me to change my mindset to that of a genteel Southern gal (hey, I did say At-lanna the other day) from the Masshole attitude I usually have.

Because I'm mean...

Because I'm mean, I often make fun of my dog, Baby. She's a 12-pound Silky Terrier, and to put it nicely, her cuteness makes up for her lack of brains.

She's not terribly stupid, but after Bessie, our first daughter, a Black Lab mix, any dog seems stupid.

Baby has proven me wrong today though. She's a regular Lassie-loyal to her boy, no matter what.

Every morning, I jokingly tell Baby that she can't go to school with Addison. She stands at the door and watches as he walks away with his friend and cries. Ok, cute, I know, but yesterday she surprised me.

When Addison opened the door to go, Baby dashed outside, ready to go to school with the boy. She tried it again this morning.

I owe you an apology, Baby, but you still can't go to school.

Because I'm sick...

Because I'm sick and feel like crap, I want to share a picture:



In the recliner is my grandfather, Big Daddy (real name Albert) and my son, Addison Albert. I am so grateful to have been able to see Big Daddy two weeks before he passed away. I'm still in denial that he's gone, and it still hurts every day.

Even though he had some bad days, my mom said that he was feeling good that day. He even had a Bud Light, so of course I did too.

I'm not a life coach obviously, but I like to be reminded to let people know who matter to me how important they are in my life. Make it one of those days, don't let it be too late to let those you love know it. Life's too short.

Back to Square One (Friggin MoFo's)

Because if I wrote here everything that has transpired in the last week, anyone reading this would have to take a couple breaks and probably stop reading, I will wrap this all up very neatly.

We retracted the offer on the house. Five days of waiting and getting jerked around? Sorry, this girl only takes so much before she starts biting back. It's the Irish fire in me. Mess with me, I will mess right back with you, and even harder. It's the way I roll and it seems to work pretty well.

I don't want to name names (DR Horton Builders) but needless to say, the price offered on the house wasn't even the correct one. I can see why the builders-who-shall-remain-nameless are in the middle of a management change.

So, the Nash family is going to invest more time and money into househunting, hopefully next weekend. Oh, and yes, it will be with a new real estate agent also. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. NEXT!!!!!

There are angels out there...

I've been wrapped up in all this house crap that for just a few minutes I need to take a break from it and write about something else.

I've mentioned Twitter before, and today I started "following" a lady who goes under the name inspiremetoday. She sent me a message thanking me for being a military spouse and sent me a link to her blog with a very inspiring post.

Basically, she wrote a song for her daughter, and it became a hit. I listened to the song on the blog site, and immediately started crying.

Being a military spouse is no picnic, but, that being said, we also have women like Gail Goodwin who recognize us and even write songs about us. It humbles me, and it makes me feel good that there are those out there who not only support our military men and women, but us spouses also.

I don't seek out recognition for being a military spouse. It's who I am. In the same vein, my husband doesn't go around bragging about who he is and what he's accomplished in his time in the Army. I will sometimes do that for him (Best Ranger '04, three Bronze Stars, rank of master sergeant at 13 years of service-sorry Adam, but someone's gotta do it-you're a rock star!)

My mom has told me it's always harder on the person left behind. While I understand this, I also think being in a foreign country where your life is on the line everyday is harder. I really have no clue as to what Adam has done overseas. Just knowing that his tours of duty aren't over have prevented me from asking. We've made a deal though-on his retirement day, he's going to tell me everything he's done and isn't going to stop talking until I know everything.

Then I plan on getting him to write a book or screenplay or something-I know it's got to be that good!

Here is the link to the blog post:
http://www.inspiremetoday.com/gail/2008/10/inspiremetoday-brings-inspiration-to-iraq/

Cross Your Fingers, cross your toes

My life has come to a standstill. We made an offer on a house Sunday morning. We are still waiting to hear back. Last I heard was that it was going desk to desk, because it's an offer to a builder, and three people make their comments on the offer then they all vote on it. Who knew? Not this girl.

Anyway, it's killing me. I hate waiting. Have no patience, never have. My back is all tense and my stomach is in knots. I've barely ate the last two days.

I was told we should know something in the morning. At this point, I'll be glad to hear something, anything, so please keep us in your thoughts and prayers that it all works out.

I'll post more once we hear something and figure out what we're going to do. Until then, I can't even think to write anything else.

Savannah or bust...

Tomorrow morning begins our great adventure. In January, we will be PCSing to Savannah, Georgia. (PCS=Permanent Change of Station) Adam will be working at Hunter Army Airfield so we are going house hunting Saturday in the area, specifically the town of Pooler, just west and north of Savannah.

It's our first PCS move - ever. Adam has been here since starting basic training in August of 1995. I moved here April 4, 1996. It has become home, and I'm very sad to move, as I've written before. Tomorrow reality will hit me full in the face.

I'm excited to go and discover Savannah. We visited one night in 1997 and didn't get to see barely anything, so being able to live right there is an adventure waiting to happen for the entire Nash family.

Will let you all know how it goes on Monday or as soon as possible. Heck, I might even bear good news about finding a house! Please pray for us, or if you're not religious or don't pray, please keep your fingers crossed for us! Thanks...

Adrenaline Overload...bank robber style

Yesterday began like any other day. Sent the boy off to school, then Adam and I went to his Honor Roll program. I got home about 9:45 a.m. and got on the computer. From the desk, I can see out the front window.

When I saw two Columbus Police Department cruisers drive by, I thought, hmm, that's strange, since I live at Fort Benning, but whatever. Then I kept hearing a helicopter, which is not unusual living on an Army post. I usually don't even notice the helicopters but this was non-stop chopper action.

I went outside and saw that it wasn't a Blackhawk, but a police chopper. The two cop cars were parked on the side of the road, idling, with no officers in them. A couple minutes later, I looked back outside and saw an officer, so I went outside and asked him if there was something going on I should know about.

"We're looking for someone. I recommend you go in your house and lock your doors."

Hey, no problem, copper, I turned and ran back into the house and immediately called Adam.

I'm going to try to keep a long story and longer day short. In a nutshell: a man robbed a bank in Columbus, then came onto Fort Benning. The electronic device in the money bag was traced to this neighborhood. The police and FBI were here looking for him. They blocked off my entire neighborhood, not letting anyone in, and commenced to go to every single house in the area and search it, including mine.

All of the schools here were put on lockdown about 10:30 a.m. By about 2:30, a half hour before dismissal, I started getting antsy-I just wanted my son. I drove up to the school and waited outside until the lockdown was lifted at about 3:20 p.m. I got my son and came home, relieved to have him with me physically and safe.

This guy still hasn't been caught, and I'm remaining vigilant, but I'm no longer scared. Regardless, all the doors and windows are still locked up tight today. Sigh....hopefully life will get back to normal today.

Just Call Me Martha...thankyouverymuch

Check me out, cooking it up like a real person! I made this chicken cacciatore bake last night. They are chicken breasts coated in Shake N Bake with some parmesan cheese sprinkled on top, cooked on top of diced tomatoes and quartered zucchini. I served it over cooked penne.

I was quite proud of myself. Adam gave me an A- for the meal. I asked what the minus was for - he said because I've never made it before. I told him I didn't know it was even possible!

So I guess I can cook. Whoopee! Still, don't expect a dinner invitation quite yet-I'm still taking baby steps.

Tonight's dish will be spaghetti pie via a recipe I found on recipes.com. Going to make it now since Addison has his last football practice tonight, and his last game tomorrow-yayyyyy!

Comfort Zone

I really hate grocery shopping, especially at our commissary, because even though I'm there early, they never have my dog food or bacon if it happens to be on sale. It really irks me, but that's not the point of this post.

I decided to go outside of my comfort zone of easily prepared meals and frozen foods and actually try cooking something different. I picked up a package of Shake and Bake for chicken and noticed a recipe on the back for Easy Chicken Cacciatore Bake. I looked at all the ingredients necessary, and wouldn't you know, I knew exactly what they all were. Whoopee!

I'm excited to try it out tonight, even though I know Addison doesn't like zucchini and diced tomatoes, but oh well, that's why I bought fresh broccoli for him and I will attempt my first ever boiling of fresh broccoli. Yes, I'm that bad.

Tomorrow night I will try out spaghetti pie. I found a very simple recipe for it at www.recipes.com. My mom used to make it when we were younger and I loved it.

Will update tomorrow how it all went! Wish me luck!

Feelings of inadequacy

I suppose this post can go along with my post from the other day, about how I'm not a cook and I don't enjoy cooking.

Last night we went to a get-together with a lot of Adam's old co-workers. Technically, they're all co-workers since they're all in the same unit in the Army, but now Adam works in a different office and building.

Anyway, most of the people there were officers, majors and colonels, and their wives. There were only a few other enlisted couples, which is fine, because I really don't care what rank someone is when they are in civilian clothes and in a house.

If you don't know me well, let me explain. I'm the girl who drinks beer and watches sports. I'm feminine, don't get me wrong, but I'm not a wine and gossip type of gal. This has bothered me in the past, but I usually get over it.

Last night, though, I left there with major feelings of inadequacy. While sitting in the living room, watching the Texas vs. Texas Tech football game, I glanced around and realized I was the only woman at the party watching, along with Adam and a bunch of other guys. Okay, fine, whatever.

Then dessert was served. Many of the wives had brought dessert, including homemade cheesecake and other stuff I didn't even know what it was. I felt inadequate. I don't make homemade anything, unless you count fleece blankets and cross-stitches.

I sometimes wonder what went wrong with me. I don't want to sit around and talk about kids. I don't want to talk about Grey's Anatomy or the new Coach purses. And I honestly don't think there is anything wrong with anyone who wants to do that. It's just not me. That's what bothers me. Am I missing some sort of gene that I should have as a woman?

All in all, I had a good time, everyone seemed to think I was cool because I write for The Bayonet even though I don't work there. Everyone was super nice and I had the opportunity to meet a lot of new people. None the less, I don't feel up to par as a woman and that sucks. Oh well, time to watch some football!

I got a BIG shout out! Whoopee!

I was revisiting the Web site www.emailourmilitary.blogspot.com to read a new guest post and scrolled down to mine and noticed there were four comments. They were very nice and like I commented also, it's strange to me to get kudos on my writing. It may sound weird or selfish, but I write for myself, not with a reader in mind.

I guess I feel that if I write for the intended reader, I'm losing the intent of what and why I'm writing. Usually when I write anything, it's from my heart.

Anyway, long story short-one of the commentators was a woman named Phyllis Zimbler Miller, who is an author of a book called Mrs. Lieutenant, about her and three other women who sent their husbands off to Vietnam. I'm definitely interested in reading it.

Mrs. Zimbler Miller thought it was such a great guest post that she talked about it on her own blog at www.mrslieutenant.blogspot.com. It's dated Oct. 29 and has the link back to the emailourmilitary Web site.

Thank you, Mrs. Z.M. You made my week!

Southern Fried Initials

I don't know if this trend is anywhere but the South, but this is it-

Women put their monograms on the back of their car windows.

For example, I would have a small E, a big N and a small A, since my

initials are EAN. Adam didn't understand the monogram thing when

our teenaged neighbor put her initials on the back of her SUV. Her

initials are ANB so as a monogram on her car, it says ABN.



I had to explain monograms are different, because he thought maybe

we had adopted her and he didn't know about it.



Anyway, this is what I saw today on the back of a car:

I thought it was funny as hell. I won't do the initial thing, because I hate jumping on

any kind of bandwagon. I'll keep my Red Sox Nation sticker, Pat the Patriot sticker and my

Boston Pride sticker on my car, and be the sports chick I'm known as so as to be true to

myself.

Why you'll never be invited over for supper

I can't cook. I freely admit this. Cooking to me is throwing something in the microwave and crossing my fingers it cooks all the way through.

I've never been a "foodie." I only eat when I'm hungry, and only because my blood sugar gets low and I become quite the bitch, more so than usual. I don't enjoy trying new food, and only do it because Adam will bug me until I do.

I've tried to cook. I've looked up recipes, but if it involves more than 4 ingredients I'm immediately turned off.

Maybe it's because I'm Irish. Any seasoning other than salt and butter throws me for a loop. Maybe because I didn't have a huge array of different foods growing up. I'm okay with this, though, doesn't bother me one bit.

I feel bad for my Adam, who grew up with a mom who can cook anything and everything and is quite good at it. I almost cried the other night when I served him pork chops that the NHL could have used in place of the usual puck.

I feel inadequate when Adam talks to his mom and she's cooking this or baking that. Homemade apple pie? I don't like pie, so I don't make it. I make Addison cheesecake from the box. I made brownies from the box. I make cookies from a box or premade dough. Betty Crocker I'm not.

So, if you're hungry, my house is not the place to come to, unless Adam is cooking. He's a great cook, because as he once told me, "I learned how to cook after we got married because otherwise I would have starved." Love ya too Hun.

Read some more of my stuff

I wrote a guest post for emailourmilitary.com, a nonprofit organization that supports our troops in many different ways.

Here's the link-the post is dated Oct. 28 and if it's not at the top of the blog then just scroll down until you see it.

www.emailourmilitary.blogspot.com

Hope you enjoy it!

Fashion no-no

This is what I saw today while shopping at the commissary:

I guess it's my civic duty to send it to Glamour for a "Don't."

FYI: It was about 45 degrees outside, and no, I don't know her, and yes, I did follow her around the store to get this shot. If you notice, other people have on pants, coats, etc.

Is it over yet?

I've deliberately stayed away from politics here on my blog. One, because I know who I'm voting for, and I'm not going to try to sway anyone to choose my candidate. I'm pretty sure most people are smart enough to vote on their own.

Two, I'm sick to death of Election '08. If I see one more poll I'm gonna puke. Polls are so unscientific, so stupid and so not a reflection of what's going to happen Nov. 4.

Here's my plea: Just go vote. Or don't-it's your right as an American.

And if you're still undecided, ummm, it may be time to educate yourself some more and pick someone!

Denial...

It's becoming more and more of a reality that we are moving in January. We've been browsing houses online to buy, and already got our pre-approval, so we've done what we are supposed to do.

Finally, though, I bit the bullet yesterday and checked with my neighbor to see when her daughter would be available to feed our dogs so we could visit Savannah and meet our agent and look at houses. I was putting it off because basically, I'm still in denial.

I feel torn. I'm excited to move to Savannah, and have the beach just minutes away and palm trees everywhere. I can't wait to explore the city and learn all there is about it.

But at the same time, I'm so so sad to be leaving Fort Benning. I've lived here longer than I have any other town in my 34 years. I have two best friends, one across the street and one up the street, who I talk to daily and hang out with a lot. We've seen each other through deployments, late nights, drama and all those girlfriend things that women do.

I have old co-workers who are like family, who I know I can go to for anything. I know that all of these people would drop everything to help me in any way, from babysitting Addison to lending me an egg. When we get to Savannah, I won't know anyone. I know I'll meet people, but it won't be the same.

Basically, I don't do well with loss. I still mourn my dog who died more than two years ago every day. I miss my grandfather who passed away in March. I miss all of my relatives who are no longer here, and feel it deeply in my heart. Moving from Fort Benning feels like a loss to me, from a loss of stability to a loss of friends. I know that my friends will always be my friends and we'll keep in touch, but it won't be the same not having them there physically.

So, I'm sad to leave here, as much as I've bitched about it. I'm making a pledge today to look on the bright side, to get excited about moving and home ownership and finally having a house I can do whatever I want to.

Wish me luck.

He got it from his mama

Although Addison has his father's warped sense of humor and his derriere, he does have some of my traits. Unfortunately, they are the bad ones.

He got sensitive skin and allergies from me. Sorry, boy. But the baby blue eyes from my side of the family kind of makes up for it, no? The chicks dig them.

What worries me the most is that Addison seems to be guided by his brain, just like me.
When we were visiting my BFF in Wisconsin in August, we went out to eat at Red Robin (yummmmm). He had an incident where he got some food caught in his windpipe and it scared the hell out of him. He eventually got the food up, but for almost two weeks he had a hard time eating anything solid, for fear that it would happen again.

It happened again over the weekend. While playing in his tackle football game as quarterback, the kid on his team had the ball up the field and fumbled it, and the other team got it and started running along the sideline. Addison gave chase as any good quarterback would do, and when he made the tackle, he got creamed pretty bad. He got a hit directly in his stomach/upper stomach area and got teary. I think he got the wind knocked out of him, and sat on the bench for awhile.

I finally went over and told him to at least stand on the sidelines with his teammates, because I knew he wouldn't get over it any other way. He did, and I was proud, but the next day he complained his stomach hurt.

I'm not an insensitive mom, but I noticed when he was distracted, he didn't complain about his stomach hurting. He even went out and played pass with Adam, so I didn't worry about it.

Last night, he started crying and complaining that his stomach hurt again, right before football practice. I knew he had to get over the hump and get back out there on the field. After some threats, he got suited up. Guess what? He was fine at practice and after too.

So, kiddo, I'm sorry you got the "can't get over scary moments" part of me. But hey, we both have a larger second toe than our big one and totally matching feet-isn't that enough?

Why I'm So B.A.

Since I have so much time on my hands and my brain runs the gamut with everything from politics to furniture polish, I recently started mentally racking up all the women who inspired me as a child.

*My mom, of course. I learned even if you marry a jerkoff (#2) you can rebound from it and be a better person because of it. I was never scared off marriage as some kids of divorce are. Heck, I was 22 when I got married, and Adam was 19. We are still married 12 years later and still madly in love.

* Half Pint, also known as Laura Ingalls Wilder. I loved watching Little House on the Prairie with my sister, especially the older ones, when life was very rustic. Laura was a spitfire, and always questioned anything she thought was wrong. I find myself doing that, questioning authority a lot, because I don't like being told what to do.

*Madonna. My first tape ever bought was Madonna's first album. I followed her career until the mid-90s, when her music got weird. I learned from her to be my own person, that I could be B.A. without being a bitch.

* Pat Benatar. I love her music, especially "Invincible" and "We Belong". I used to love the video where she ran away from home because it was bad there. Pat Benatar was the original B.A. (badass) and I wanted to be her, to wear a rag skirt and rags in my hair. My only beef is that the song "Hell is for Children" used to scare the bejesus out of me.

I know there are more women who inspired me while growing up and shaped me into who I am today, I just can't think of anymore right now.

He's doing his job

I finally put out all of my Fall/Halloween decor last week. I tend to go heavy on the Fall stuff, because I can be lazy and keep it all up until Thanksgiving, when I drag out the Christmas stuff.

I decided to try out my life-size scarecrow in a different place this year, and while he's doing his job, he's also scaring the bejesus out of me:

Every time I pass by the door or go out to smoke another coffin nail, my heart stops for a second, thinking there's someone lurking in my front yard. Definitely time to put him somewhere else. My nerves are too frayed lately and I'm afraid I might try to hurt him.

Losing my mind, wish somebody would tell me I'm fine

I'm not quite sure when it happened. I'd like to blame it on the fact that I'm unemployed, but I don't want to give housewives a bad name. Lately, my brain has turned into a ball of mush, an unintelligble, mangled mess.

Here's a few examples:
* Last Saturday, Adam and I were sitting on the couch talking. He asked me a question and when I tried to answer, my mouth and brain were not in sync, and instead of words, all that came out was "blahhhh whaaa jusbuaaaaa." We looked at each other and just started laughing. "What the fuck was that?" he asked. "I have no clue, I tried to talk and a bunch of noises just came out," I told him. One of the more stranger things that has ever happened to me.

* A couple days ago, I told Adam, "My hair just keeps growing!" I didn't quite mean for it to come out like that. What I meant was that he had just cut my hair a couple of weeks ago and it seemed like it was long again.

* Last night, Adam asked me to hold his hand while he went to sleep. "Oh, you have nails," he said. "Yeah, they keep growing," I told him. "Oh, kind of like your hair?" he asked. Nailed. Burned. Yup, he recognized my own stupidity and brought it to my attention. Again, what I meant was I had just trimmed them via my mouth last week and they seem to be long again. I never notice my nails growing until they are long, then it just bothers me.

These are all the beauties I have for now. So proud to be me.

Getting to know you...straight-up style

You know those e-mails you get, the "Getting to know you" ones? They ask you what you are listening to, who was the last person to talked to on the phone, etc. I've been thinking a lot about these lately, maybe to try to think about something other than home-buying. Anyway, I've been crafting my own "Getting to know you" questions, because seriously, do you really care if your friend like blueberries or cherries better? I try to get more and more creative with these silly things, for instance, putting that Dale Earnhardt Jr, Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie are the least likely to respond, because I didn't e-mail it to them.
Here's some of the questions I would ask, and feel free to copy and paste and send to your friends and family to find out the "real" them.

1. Have you ever run from the po po? Sure, who hasn't? I mean, no Mom, I never ran from the cops at a house party in Hyannis in high school.

2. Have you ever been arrested? I am happy to say, no, I have never been arrested. Have I done stuff that I could have been arrested for? No, mom, and stop reading. Yes and that's all I'm going to say for fear of incriminating myself 17 years later.

3. Who would you really like to see be President? Jimmy Buffett, of course. Running under the slogan "It's five o'clock somewhere" is a lock. On the plus side, he already has his own beer, Landshark, so there's no chance of another "Billy Beer" embarassment.

4. What was the last thing you cried about? The original question is when was the last time you cried. I'm sorry you cried, but I'd like to dig deeper into your psyche and life and know why you cried. I cried last week (one of the few times a year I do) because Adam was upset with me for not expressing my feelings. I'm trying, hun, I really am.

5. Think this one through for a minute. What do you remember about the drunkest you've ever been? Teetotalers need not answer. I remember bathing fully clothed in a cocktail of treasures found in a medicine cabinet at an inn on Nantucket.

6. What do you wish your name really was? I like my name, Erin, mostly because I wasn't one of the many Jennifers of my generation. Don't get me wrong, it's a great name, but unfortunately overused way back when. If I had to change my name, it would be to a name that has a song titled after it, like Amanda by Boston or that really cool song about Brandy being a fine girl.

7. Let's be honest-which of your children is your favorite? Ha ha, suckers, I only have one child. All of you moms and dads of more than one, good luck!

I know while thinking about this the last couple of days I had more questions, I just can't seem to filter them out of my info-adled brain right now. Feel free to add your own, or let me know which ones you'd add too.

Because I'm moving...

...I've gotten lazy. I live in military housing-have for the past 12 years. Although I've been fortunate to live at one post for this long, I've never really felt like the two houses I've lived in have been home. I've been able to paint the walls and carpet the institution-like tile, but I've always known in the back of my head that I wouldn't be here forever.

Now that we are moving in January, I've begun to detach myself from our current house. We moved here three years ago from just up the street, because we were told after 9 years we lived too close to the firing range and could suffer from hearing loss. Luckily, I read this in a letter, because I wouldn't have been able to hear whoever was going to tell me. Just kidding.

I've made a best friend across the street and another just up the street. I will miss them terribly, but I've found that your friends are friends, regardless of where they live. My BFF lives in Wisconsin and we are just as close as ever. She'll always be my BFF because she knows too much!

Anyway, what I'm trying to do is apologize to Adam and Addison. I realize my housekeeping has been lax lately. I'm trying, I really am. I spend a lot of time doing my research on houses in the area we are moving to, seeing what is available, how much we can afford, etc.

I really do want to decorate my porch for Fall. I just don't care. I've slowly put my Fall decor throughout the house, just not outside yet. Maybe it's painful to realize it's the last time I will decorate this porch, at this house. I'm guessing yes, since I'm getting a little teary realizing that yes, we will leave this house, and even though I'm ecstatic about moving to Savannah, I will miss our time here.

Wordless Wednesday, Wife Beater-style

You da man, Boy

Addison had his first scrimmage on Saturday, during the Opening Day Jamboree for the Columbus Youth Football League. His team did well, but did allow a touchdown but not the extra point. We didn't score, unfortunately, but Addison did complete a pass. We are so damn proud.

I'm NOT that parent

I've already been warned by Adam, not to be that parent during football season. You know that parent, the one who has a big mouth and yells at their kid and talks shit about the other kids and the other team.

I don't know why he thinks I am like this. We've been married 12 years and never once have I, during any of Addison's sporting events, said anything mean. I've never yelled anything but encouragement, even for the other team.

People have a perception of me, that I'm a hothead. I do have a quick Irish temper, and sometimes have a hard time holding my tongue, I admit. I say what's on my mind and really don't care if anyone listens, and if they do and don't like it, tough shit. That being said, though, I don't know why people think I have no self restraint.

I told Adam that although I don't have a lot of class, I do have some. Enough to make me not yell at Addison or any other kid. For cripes sake, they're 9 and 10 years old. They are learning. I try to praise Addison and teach him at the same time. It's not going to be an easy season for Addison, since we were told they will not win one single game, but he's excited about playing nonetheless, so I am too.

I refuse to be that parent, and I refuse to respond to them. Let them look like an asshole, I really don't care. I will defend my child, because he's sure to get some criticism, being the quarterback. If it's warranted, that's fine, but if not, oh hell no, game on. Just kidding-no, really.

Arghhhhh!

I am stressed. But it's okay, because it's for a good reason.
We are moving, per the Army's orders, to the Savannah, Georgia, area in January.
One of the best things about being in the Army is BAH, or basic allowance for housing. The Army pays our rent, mortgage, etc. We have been paying the full amount allowed to us via Adam's rank to privatized military housing, and it's a waste of money. I know it's hard to understand unless you are current or former military, so let's just say it's a good thing for us at this time.

We decided to pursue buying a house when we move. Why? Because we could find a nice house for a good price and pay considerably less for a mortgage payment instead of giving privatized housing all of our money for duplex living. We've lived in military housing for 12 years, and since Adam's a B.A. we can afford the mortgage on a house.

Cutting through all that crap, I had no idea (well, I did, I was just in denial) how much goes into a home-buying process. We are still in the very beginning stages, too, where we are figuring out the best area to live that has the best elementary school, because besides price and location, the school district is our number one priority for Addison.

Luckily, we do our banking and insurance through USAA, which is for military, and they are SPECTACULAR. They have a realtor, approved by them by background checks, etc., calling me within 24 hours. I guess it's time to work with a realtor and let them know our wants and needs, and let them do the rest of the work. I absolutely hate being bugged, like when shopping for a car or even at a store, when they just won't leave you alone, so I need to take a different tact and realize the realtor is there to HELP me, not try to make me buy a car.

That said, it's a confusing process, but I am feeling good about it all.

Favorite pic ever

This is my favorite, favorite picture of all time. Something about it tickles my funny bone. Well, not the color scheme we had going on in the kitchen/dining room, but we don't live there anymore so it's all good.

Bessie was the coolest dog ever. She just got up in the chair and started eating out of the bowl, so Adam and Addison played along. I miss you Bessie, more every day.

iHeart my iPod

One of my favorite authors and bloggers, Jen Lancaster, once had a blog entry about what she had recently downloaded to her iPod, so that is my inspiration for this entry. I like to read other's blogs about what they recently downloaded, for the simple fact that I don't feel bad for having both 2 Live Crew and Abba on the same playlist. It's cool that other people are as diverse in their music choices as I am, because I was starting to worry about some of my own choices.

Anyway, here are some recent downloads of mine:
* I'm Yours by Jason Mraz -It's got a great beat and Adam loves it too.

* Got Money by Lil Wayne and T-Pain-'Cause I love my rap

* Barracuda by Heart-Gets me pumped up to go vote for McCain and Palin, who I have a mad girl crush on

* The Block by New Kids on the Block-Their new album, because I still love them

* Boom and Alive by P.O.D.-Songs that get me pumped

* That's What You Get by Paramore-An all around good song

* Don't Think I Don't Think About It by Darius Rucker-I always loved Hootie and the Blowfish and wanted to check out Rucker's foray into country music

* So What by Pink- love her, love her girl power songs

* Desensitized by Drowning Pool-an album from 2004. I used to call this "devil music" because all I heard was screaming but it's actually really good music. Their best song by far is Bodies-always makes me work out harder and then want to kick someone's ass after.

If there's something else I should be listening to, let me know.

A Must-Read

I got this e-mail from a good friend, and I felt the need to share it. Read the whole thing-I had tears in my eyes by the end.

Rules for the Non -Military

Dear Civilians, 'We know that the current state of affairs in our great nation has many civilians up in arms and excited to join the military. For those of you who can't join, you can still lend a hand. Here are a few of the areas where we would like your assistance:
1. The next time you see any adults talking (or wearing a hat) during the playing of the National Anthem - kick their ass.
2.When you witness, firsthand, someone burning the American Flag in protest - kick their ass.
3.Regardless of the rank they held while they served, pay the highest amount of respect to all veterans. If you see anyone doing otherwise, quietly pull them aside and explain how these veterans fought for the very freedom they bask in every second. Enlighten them on the many sacrifices these veterans made to make this Nation great. Then hold them down while a disabled veteran kicks their ass.
4.(GUYS) If you were never in the military, DO NOT pretend that you were. Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDUs) or Jungle Fatigues, telling others that you used to be 'Special Forces,' and collecting GI Joe memorabilia, might have been okay when you were seven years old. Now, it will only make you look stupid and get your ass kicked.
5.Next time you come across an Air Force member, do not ask them, 'Do you fly a jet?' Not everyone in the Air Force is a pilot. Such ignorance deserves an ass-kicking (children are exempt).
6.If you witness someone calling the US Coast Guard 'non-military', inform them of their mistake - and kick their ass.
7.Next time Old Glory (the US flag) prances by during a parade, get on your damn feet and pay homage to her by placing your hand over your heart. Quietly thank the military member or veteran lucky enough to be carrying her - of course, failure to do either of those could earn you a severe ass-kicking.
8.Don't try to discuss politics with a military member or a veteran. We are Americans, and we all bleed the same, regardless of our party affiliation. Our Chain of Command is to include our Commander-In-Chief (CinC). The President (for those who didn't know) is our CinC regardless of political party. We have no inside track on what happens inside those big important buildings where all those representatives meet All we know is that when those civilian representatives screw up the situation, they call upon the military to go straighten it out. If you keep asking us the same stupid questions repeatedly, you will get your ass kicked!
9.'Your mama wears combat boots' never made sense to me - stop saying it! If she did, she would most likely be a vet and therefore could kick your ass!
10. bin Laden and the Taliban are not Communists, so stop saying 'Let's go kill those Commies!' And stop asking us where he is! Crystal balls are not standard issue in the military. That reminds me- if you see anyone calling those damn psychic phone numbers, let me know, so I can go kick their ass!
11. 'Flyboy' (Air Force), 'Jarhead' (Marines), 'Grunt' (Army), 'Squid' (Navy), 'Puddle Jumpers' (Coast Guard), etc., are terms of endearment we use describing each other. Unless you are a service member or vet, you have not earned the right to use them. Using them could get your ass kicked.
12. Last, but not least, whether or not you become a member of the military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and religious holiday that you enjoy with family and friends, please remember that there are literally thousands of soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen far from home wishing they could be with their families. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they make every day. Without them, our country would get it's ass kicked.' 'It's the Veteran, not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the press.' 'It's the Veteran, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.' 'It's the Veteran, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate.' 'It's the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.' One more:13. If you ever see anyone either standing for or singing the national anthem in Spanish - KICK THEIR ASS.

Wordless Wednesday Erin-style

Virus Attacks!

I've thought about writing about Sarah Palin and my girl crush on her, or how Tom Brady's injury has thrown me into denial. But since I'm steering clear on politics because, really, I'm not out to change anyone's mind or tell them their opinion is wrong, and since writing about Tom will force me to face the truth, I decided to write about the virus attacking the Nash household.

Totally inane, I know, but I just don't have the energy to get fired up today.

It started Saturday morning, when Addison and I lolled about on the couch, because we didn't feel quite right. By Sunday night, Addison had developed a cough and was lethargic. Adam and I decided to keep him home from school Monday, and I'm glad I did. Poor kid was hot and coughing and feeling like crap. I didn't feel great, but not bad, nothing some ibuprofen couldn't help.

What I do want to do is point out how lucky we are. Adam's unit is awesome, always has been. Well, except for the few hundred times they pissed me off, but that's not a hard thing to do. What they are awesome at is taking care of families, and that includes medically. Instead of having to call the hospital and TRY to get a same-day appointment, and ultimately end up at a walk-in clinic for hours on end, the unit docs will see family members. I'm so appreciative of these soldiers who take time out of their busy schedules to see us.

I was worried because it sounded like Addison was wheezy, but the doc assured me his chest was clear. I'm very grateful.

Addison is now on the mend, but be sure to take your Vitamin C because there is a wicked virus going around, everywhere.

Dida Update-I'm still a bitch

Dida showed up at practice yesterday. Although she was not wearing the usual Adidas pants, I was glad to see she had on something different-until I saw they were pink Adidas pants-with a RED cotton jacket-it was 90 degrees outside. I'm pretty sure they were the same pink pants I had when I was 14, and the same size I wore then, because obviously they don't fit her well.

My friend saw her and said, "Oh, she thinks she's cute." I take this at face value, because this friend does not just rag on people or say something like that unless she really thinks it, and she's pretty smart. I had never thought of that but it does make sense, she struts around like she's Gisele or something.

On a good note, she had on different undies than two days ago. PHEW. Yes, I will continue to be a bitch and report on what she's wearing, just because I need something to fill up those hours when the boys aren't home.

Mortified

Last night Adam had a jump (which ended up being cancelled because the plane was broken-nice) so I had the pleasure of taking Addison to football practice. I go to watch him, and see how he plays, and make plans for the money he will make and give to me when he's in the NFL.

Although I'm a Gemini and supposed to be a social butterfly, I'm not. I'm a quiet person, sometimes too quiet, according to Adam. But I hear everything. And what I heard last night blew my mind.

There were three little girls hanging out near me, one white girl and two black girls. I wasn't really paying attention to them until I heard one of the black girls say to the other, "So you don't like white people?" They continued to talk but I couldn't hear the rest. I thought maybe I had heard wrong, but my hearing is one of my best senses.

Her comment left me baffled. Baffled and angry. She couldn't have been more than 8 years old, so tell me, where do you think she learned this from? Maybe friends, but I'm betting the farm I don't own that she learned it at home. That's what angers me.

I have always said I love that Addison is a military child, growing up in a neighborhood and school full of every sort of nationality you could think of. Addison has had friends who are Puerto Rican, black, Mexican, Peruvian, Samoan, etc. Addison doesn't see color, he sees the content of someone's character. Apparently the parents of that little girl have taught her different, and that disgusts me.

If I had been feeling more sassy, I would have asked her point blank, "So you don't like me?" just to see what she would say, but then again, it's not my job to educate her that you don't not like someone just because they're a different color than you. I know, I used a double negative in that sentence, but I can't think of a better way to word it, it bothers me too.

I'm still in shock over what I heard, and I hope and pray that the girl learns better someday.

Why yes, I am a bitch

***Update*** "Dida" was not at practice last night. I am strangely disappointed. She better show up tonight or I'll be crushed.

I'm a pretty observant person. I have to constantly point out to Adam signs on the side of the road that say "Merge in one mile" or "Construction-speeding fines will be doubled." I catch spelling errors everywhere, TV, magazine, book, you name it.

Addison started tackle football three weeks ago. And, in that three weeks, I have noticed this one mom. Well, I have carefully observed all the parents and realized they bother me, but this lady, whoa.

She wears the same Adidas track wind pants EVERY DAY. No shit. I don't like to judge people, but it's something I've noticed. I pointed it out to Adam, and yesterday we debated over how often we think she washes them.

"You think she washes them every day?" I asked. He shook his head no. "Well, how often, then?" He held up one finger. "Once a week? That's gross." I shuddered inwardly and started to try to covertly glance at her and see if her pants looked dirty.

I know us military folk don't make a lot of money, and the less rank you have, the less money you make. But come on, I'm pretty sure Dida, as I've nicknamed her (Adidas, without the A and S), has more than one pair of pants. And, it's 90 degrees everyday. Does she not own any shorts? Maybe she outgrew them, granted, but Wal-Mart does sell shorts for cheap.

Not to be really nasty, but Dida is not the slimmest woman. The pants are tight-it looks like her crotch is hungry 'cause it's eating her pants. I can read her lips, and not the ones on her face. 'Nuff said.

This is the nastiest though-she was leaning over last night and giving everyone a real good look at her bright blue undies. Adam leaned over and whispered, "Take note of her underwear, and see if she has those on tomorrow too." That was when my gag reflex kicked in.

Congratulations Hun!

Today was one of the proudest days of my 34 years, and 12 of being an Army wife. My husband, Adam, got offically promoted to master sergeant, or pay grade of E-8. It's not an easy rank to get to, by far. Most people retire from the Army after 20 years as an E-7, or sergeant first class. Adam just hit his 13-year mark in the Army in mid-August. He's my hero, and is a good example of what happens when you work hard and keep your nose out of trouble.

The best thing about Adam is he really knows how to balance work and home life. He's had soldiers he was in charge of come back years later and tell him, basically, that while he wasn't their favorite person while he was in charge of them, they realized after they left what a great leader he was, and how much they learned from him. He leads by example, and he is able to shed his tough exterior when he walks through the door every day. He leaves work at work, and I appreciate that, because he knows better than to try to order me around!

Congratulations, Hun, you have made me enormously proud. You deserve every stripe on that rank.

Stuck

You ever just have one of those weeks? You know, the kind where you have absolutely no motivation in all aspects of your life? Yeah, I'm there.

I've battled depression my whole life. I finally had a great doctor diagnose me years ago with dysthymia, an ongoing, low-grade depression that can easily slide to full-blown depression. I don't take any medication, because I'm a bad pill-taker and quite honestly, don't want to spend the rest of my life on Prozac. I'm not anti-medication at all, because whatever malady you have, if your doctor gives you medicine for it, you take it, right?

This week I've been down in the dumps. There's no particular reason; I guess it's probably a myriad of small things.

I'm alone, all day. Addison leaves for school at 8 a.m. and is home at 3:30 p.m. Adam goes to work at 5:30 a.m. and usually is home after 5 p.m. That's a lot of hours for me to twiddle my thumbs. Quite honestly, I can't get into the housewife frame of mind. I can't clean all day. My brain needs constant stimulation, although I do enjoy trying new laundry detergent and continuously smelling my clothes. Ahh, yeah, that sounds weird, sorry.

If I could pinpoint what is getting me down, maybe I could try to change it. But usually, for me, there's nothing specific that gets me down. I guess I'm in a rut. I hate that summer's over (besides on the calendar) and it's not Fall yet. I love Fall and decorating and getting pumpkins and everything related to it. Sometimes I get so sick of summer that by late August I will put out my Fall decor inside my house, just for something different. It's kind of hard though when it's 90 degrees outside to get into the autumnal mood.

Most people tell me to get out and do something, maybe I'll feel better. I'm not quite there though yet. Usually it will take me a few days to wallow, then I get back on my feet. I hope it happens this time.

So Far Away...

Although I have been known to quite regularly trash the military when I get pissed off, for the most part, I can't complain. I'm not going to spell out all the benefits, but there are definitely ups and downs.

One of those downs is living so far from family. Our closest relative is my sister in North Carolina, about 8 hours away. Most of our family is in Massachusetts, about 22 hours away by car.

Most military families move every two to three years. My husband just hit his 13-year mark in the Army, and we are still at our first duty station. We have been incredibly lucky to be able to do this, especially since my son is 9 and has never had to move. He knows about moving, and has been very sad to see so many of his friends come and go. In a few months, we will make our first move to Savannah, and I'm not complaining!

The point I'm trying to make is this-it's hard to not live near family. How I would love to visit my mom on a Sunday afternoon and watch a Patriots game. I wish my dad could just come by and pick up Addison to go golfing. I wish my son knew his extended family better.

Adam's dad and brother came and visited us this past weekend. They left Monday morning, and Sunday night, Addison was upset. It breaks my heart to see him cry, to know that there's no possible way in the next seven years we will be able to live a short distance from any family members. I am upset he will not grow up around his aunt, uncles, cousins and grandparents.

I have a feeling, though, once we move to Savannah, we will see a lot more relatives coming to visit!

Chance of death with scattered injuries...

Addison is my only child. He is 9 years old and weighs 73 pounds. He turned 9 just over two months ago. And he's playing tackle football.

I was okay with this until us parents were told that since there weren't enough kids signed up, we would have to play teams off-post (in the city of Columbus, Ga.) if our kids were going to play football. They had prepared us for this, but at the parents' meeting Thursday, I felt like I was trapped in a bad dream.

If, we as parents, decided to take our team off-post, we had to be prepared: the kids our kids would be playing against are twice their size. They have been playing tackle togther since they were 5 years old. Their parents (not all, but some) will trash talk in your face. Oh, and yeah, they will not win a single game.

Ahhhh, okay thanks for the warning. But no, then we had to sign a form that said our child is very likely to suffer from low morale and low self esteem since they will get creamed every game. There is a high chance of injury-the worst last year was a broken clavicle. Nice.

I was upset and ready to yank Addison from practice and take him home and try to stuff him back in my womb. Then Adam said, "You tell him he can't play football then." I tried to calm myself, because I know Addison has been dreaming about playing tackle since he was 5.

That night, I told him he wasn't going to win any games. Do you have any idea how awful that feels to tell your son that? "Coach said we might win one or two" he told me. "That would be awesome if you did, buddy, but I want to prepare you that you probably won't" I told him. I also told him he was going to suffer from low morale and low self esteem. I'm pretty sure he had no clue what I was talking about, because he's a pretty confident kid.

I'm not trying to be all doomsday, but I also believe in being honest with him. He's a mature 9. To try to take the brutalness out of what we were telling him, I also told him that as long as he wanted to learn the game, play the game and have fun doing it, then we would support him wholeheartedly.

He stepped up and said he wanted to play quarterback and now he's co-captain. I'm so proud of him that it kills my soul a little that everyone is so negative, including myself.

I will worry endlessly this entire season. Stay tuned.