Another Month Bites the Dust

I have had this song stuck in my head for like a week.



You're welcome.

They used to play this at the church I went to whenever a couple got engaged. I thought that was like the best thing ever. Everyone cheered and it turned into a party. Not very traditional, I know. Shoot, it was stuff like that that got me in the door and kept me there so long. By the time I was betrothed to BD, they didn't do it anymore. Boo. I still can't help but think of that every time I hear the song though.

Anyway. So I've been gone. Again. Blah blah blah.

I really do have good reasons. Wanna hear 'em? Here they go:

1. I know I've posted since then, but I never really elaborated about our Christmas trip to the Dominican Republic. It was rather awesome, if I do say so myself. We didn't get to go away last year since we were in the midst of a post-deployment cross-country move. And then, over the summer, we were quite The Busy. BD was working and we were hosting company weekend after weekend. It was pretty chock full of activity and we hardly missed getting our passports stamped between beaches, lakes, and San Antonio.

So, yeah. The DR was a great get-away. I slept on the beach a lot.


And we ate a lot. Playette made plenty of friends everywhere she went. We forgot we had brought an actual camera until the last two days. Whoopsie! But I did get this cute little clip of her with my phone after the resort staff handed out gifts to all of the kids. It was an impressive stunt, even after a parade complete with brass band and landing Santa on the beach in a helicopter.

I'm not even kidding.


Obviously, I'll need to devote a post to this trip.

2. Right after we got back, it was off to DC for an amazing New Year's Eve wedding of a very good friend. Can you say Best Wedding Evah? Yeah. Cause it was. From the goody bag in the room (complete with a red velvet Georgetown Cupcake) to the steel drum playing during the cocktail hour to the fun photo booth to the hip hop violinist while we dined on amazing food. I totally made myself stay up until the music stopped at 2am.

Again, I'm not kidding. Hip. Hop. Violinist. It was all sorts of amazing.


I wore my sparkly shoes for the occasion and was feeling super cute, belly and all. Even though several people were concerned that I'd be giving birth on the dance floor. Apparently, I am very large. It's nice that people remind me of that, isn't it?

3. The next morning, we had to hop out of the ever-so-comfortable hotel bed and make our way to pick up Playette from her sleepover with my friend's kids so that we could get home as soon as possible.

Why?

Because I had to fly to Tennessee at noon on Monday (yes, the holiday) to start my two weeks of annual training with the Navy Reserve. Highlight: I got to break out the khaki tent, my affectionate name for the maternity uniform. That thing is not only super comfy, but totally unflattering. And it has no pockets, so it's also impractical. Woot!

I met some great people, had a few fantastic meals, learned a lot, saw the Globetrotters, went to the National Civil Rights Museum, skipped Graceland on Elvis's birthday, and more. If my family had been there, I would have been solid. But they weren't, so I came home as soon as the opportunity was made available to me.

BD did a fantastic job of holding down the fort. And Playette. Of course I mean that figuratively. Maybe.

4. I got home and slept. Because, ironically, while I was busy doing items 1-3, time did not stand still and somehow I crossed over into my third trimester of growing a human. After 12-13 hour days of work while I was away, coming home to my own bed was absolute heaven. The adrenaline rush that kept me vertical through the training faded right along with the second trimester and my body did all it could to recuperate before I had to return to work on Tuesday.

5. And then, on top of everything, work is a boiling pot of stress. I hate it. Did I just write that? I think I did. I really need to do something about this. It's been bad since pretty much Day 1 and here we are five months later and I'm still there.

I have a goal in mind and I've pretty much met it, so I'm about one stupid comment away from being back at home full-time again. Little do they know. Or maybe now they do.

I. Don't. Care.

6. If there's another excuse in there somewhere - and who knows, maybe there was something else - I can't even remember.

But I'm here now.

And I'm feeling big scared great, so let's just ride that out for a while, shall we?

Things are going to drastically change soon enough.

Hold me?