Because I digress...

Last week sucked. Adam worked all week and ended up sleeping at work most nights. I know, it's his job, suck it up lady, but I wish those wives who complain about their husband coming home at 6 p.m. knew exactly what my husband's job entailed, and the hours and hours he puts in that they have no clue of. (Is it still improper to end a sentence in a preposition? If so, um, I don't care.)

I veered sharply away from exercising. I didn't go to the track once. It rained, literally, every day. No doubt I could have used the treadmill, but I was in such a funk, I couldn't even muster the energy to bend down to plug it in. Yup, that bad.

This morning I didn't want to exercise. I made myself do it, though, because I seemingly have the body of Wonder Woman and notice results in just a day or two. Good genes, people, damn good genes.

What prompted me to get off my ass was reading US Magazine last night, and their whole 30-page spread of how celebrities keep in shape. Yeah, two hours a day, five days a week. I do indeed have that kind of time, but seriously, who the eff wants to work out for two hours a day? Oh, and don't forget the personal trainer, meals sent to their house, etc. They're telling me to eat healthy but in their world money is no issue and by golly, it sure would be nice to have prepared meals delivered to my door. My only hope of that is when I'm old and getting Meals on Wheels.

So, celebrities, you can all go suck it. You gave me the motivation to be able to do this all on my own. I will walk and run and Slip-n-Slide with my son and husband because I can. Take your thousands of bucks spent on looking fake and I'll be real, thank you very much.

Because it's one of those days...

Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's because it's Wednesday. Or, it could just be me. Regardless, I've been having a few of those "poor me" days. I'm in some sort of funk.

Sunday it started raining. It's rained here and there over the last few days, but what is really bringing me down is the temperature. I've never seen a high of 59 in late May in Georgia. I feel like I'm back on good ol' Cape Cod. I love hot, humid weather and this crap has got to go.

Adam, of course, is working. Since he's become first sergeant it's been hard not seeing him much. I've accepted it and am soooo very proud of him for his accomplishments, and yes, I knew what sort of time this job would entail. I miss him when he's not here.

I'm excited for tomorrow, though. Adam has a four-day weekend (FINGERS CROSSED, PEOPLE) but even I have learned that a day off could turn out to be a day worked.

I don't want to be Debbie Downer. Nobody likes Debbie Downer. I went out and did a little retail therapy. I'm trying to keep my head up, and look forward to the weekend. No more feeling sorry for myself.

Because I'm paying them monthly....

I finally have friends! Drinking buddies! People I trust leaving Addison with!

The first couple of weeks in Savannah were lonely. I missed my Benning friends and didn't meet anyone here. All my neighbors are old or recluses. I felt like a loser when I signed Addison up for school and had no emergency contact numbers, because I didn't know a soul.

We've finally, finally found our "group." It's funny how when you're grown, it's still sort of like high school. You might meet other people and like them just fine, but that first time of hanging out with new people and you just sort of know that these are the people you are most alike with is great. That totally didn't make much sense and is such a run-on sentence but I really don't care.

So we've found our clique, our posse, etc. Addison's baseball coaches are great, down-to-earth guys. Funny, too. There's two other women, one who is the coach's wife, and a fellow player's mom. There's a lot of different dynamics going on within the group that are just too complex to go into if I do say so.

Needless to say, I'm happy. We fit in somewhere. I knew it would happen eventually. I was told, "You're part of the family now, girl, so don't be surprised if you have six boys sleeping over sometime soon." Okay, no problem. Addison loves it, hanging out with so many other boys his age, and that makes me happy. I sometimes feel so bad he's an only child, but I heard him tell another boy the other day that he actually liked it (He's a Material Boy).

It's nice to be part of a friend-family.

Because I'm addicted...

No, not to beer, but thanks for asking.

I'm addicted to Facebook and I'm not ashamed to say it. Being a "homemaker" (I say this because I don't do a lot of homemaking, it's not a dig against any homemakers because I am one too, I just don't feel like a real one because my only child is in school all day...), Facebook is my lifeline to the outside world during the 8 hours I'm alone on the weekdays. I know, I know, get a hobby, Erin.

What I will say is this...Facebook has been great for me. I've found friends I haven't seen since I was 10, yet we still remember each other. I found friends from junior high, names I haven't seen in 20 years, yet we still remember each other. And, of course, friends from high school.

It's strange to see how some people have aged. A lot of the guys have put on weight. Some turned from geek to chic. Some girls look exactly the same, others I wouldn't recognize if they were standing in front of my face.

I've been lucky to reconnect with the people I grew up with, who shaped me, formed me and got into trouble with me.

I'm always looking for new friends on Facebook too. I've met other Army wives, etc. Look me up-Erin Moroz Nash-and I look forward to getting to know all about you.

Because I'm trying, yet again...

I hate to exercise. I mean, hate hate. I just don't understand why someone would want to do it willingly.


My attitude changed several years ago, when my friend and neighbor, who is an exercise buff, talked me into going for a "walk" with her. What she neglected to tell me is that she walks about 20 miles per hour, up hills, in 95 degree, 100 percent humidity weather, and oh, it's only about three miles.

Since the husbands were deployed, we decided to have some drinks on the porch afterwards. Because that's what we did-drink-when they were deployed.

Soon after, we started "walking" every night. I came to enjoy this time, and my Pavlovian reaction to the walks - beer. When it came time for the guys to come home, I amazed myself. I had the body I had wanted for years. I didn't have to push my thighs down into my shorts. The shorts slid all the way up to my ass without getting stuck. Hallelujah! I had muscles on the side of my stomach. Whoa.

I've exercised here and there over the years since. I remember how great I felt with that body.

Yesterday, I stopped making excuses. I woke up for the first time in my life, motivated to work out. Not sure where that came from, but I embraced it. I put on my dusty workout clothes, sent Addison to school, and walked the short way to the track at the middle school.

I didn't walk miles and it was cloudy and cool, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I even jogged a little.

I went back today and did the same thing. I even ran more, even though no one was chasing me. This is the only way I can run-I imagine I just stole something and someone's chasing me down. Yes, I am weird.

I plan on continuing the exercise. Once Addison's out of school, we'll get up and hit the track.

And if I start to get lazy, please feel free to give me a swift kick in the ass.

Because I'm pretty sure I deserve a medal, or at least a chest to pin it on...

It was an interesting few days last week, to say the least.
Adam was gone to Fort Bragg Monday through Wednesday night. No biggie. We spent an hour or two with him Wednesday night. Thursday morning he left for work as usual. Then he called Thursday afternoon, letting me know he'd be home soon.

Not half an hour later I got a text which basically said, "Might be a long night." Okay, fine, but I felt bad he would miss Addison's baseball game. (The Boy got a homerun and triple-woot)

Eventually, it came down to this...an entire battalion of men was locked down because of missing equipment. There was no endpoint in sight. Okay, fine, I'll take Addison to practice and do my thing, go to the pool with my friends, etc.

We had plans to leave Friday morning to go back to Fort Benning to visit and watch the Best Ranger Competition. I held out hope he'd be released so we'd be able to go, but unfortunately it never happened.

My point is this...a shit ton of wives were up in arms. Some actually went and protested. Huh? It hadn't even been 24 hours since the lockdown. They embarrassed themselves and their husbands, even I was embarrassed for them.

I just don't understand many of these fellow wives who whine and complain about never seeing their husbands. Um, this is their job. It's a special operations job, and my best advice is this - get a life, because you can't live through your husband. You can't ever be guaranteed your husband will be around for your birthday, for Christmas, or any other special day or holiday. It's the nature of the beast.

As for me, maybe it's just my experience as being a wife in this unit. Thirteen years has been a long time, but you'll never see me splashing my discontent and bitterness on Facebook. Why bitch about stuff you have absolutely no control over?

I don't get it. Maybe I never will. Or maybe they're the ones who will never get it.

Because it's about time...

I've been feeling different lately. Way different. I think, gasp, I'm changing.

This is going to totally ruin my rep. Maybe it's time for a new rep anyway. The mean beermonger is getting kind of old.

Hold onto your hats, and Adam, please don't start calling out "Elizabeth, here I come!" when I say this. I think I might be a people person.

I'm shy. I'm quiet. I'm an observer. I've been forced to get out of my comfort zone since the move to Savannah, and you know what? People really aren't that bad. Sure, there'll always be idiots and people I just have no desire to be around, but I'm slowly discovering that the more people you talk to, the more you learn about yourself.

It's an amazing time of self discovery for me. And if I seem friendly or not my normal self, it's the new me!

Because she's the coolest...

Do you like me? I mean, really like me? Because this author, Jen Lancaster, is a lot like me. I'm thrilled that her new book, Pretty in Plaid, drops today. Or is that terminology saved just for records? Or is it CDs, and I'm just that old?

But I digress...if you like snarky, bitter and laugh-until-you-pee-your-pants books, get your butt out there and get a copy. While you're at it, get all her books. You won't regret it.