Majorly missing our Major.

Working retail does not allow one to take time off for the holiday season. (It also kills every happy, sentimental, warm feeling you ever had about the holidays. But I digress.) Since I couldn't go home for Christmas, my in-laws were nice enough to drive 4,000 miles to spend it with me (and the grandkitty!) in SoCal. (After all, it's going to be sunny and almost 70 degrees. White Christmas, what?) I still have to work seven out of the ten days they are here, but it's nice to come home to a set of parents who are happy to see me, even if they're not (technically) my own. (Also nice? Someone to cook a dinner for me that did not first come from the freezer.) We miss having "our boy" with us, but look forward to next year when we can all be together again. I have been blessed with wonderful in-laws who raised a wonderful son* for me to marry. And for that? Thankful indeed.

A Lt Colonel and his ladies, out for a Christmas dinner.

*Just an FYI: they raised two wonderful sons. I married the Marine one. (...Obviously.)



He told me to buy myself something pretty.

My husband agreed to let me have my present now,

but it had to be wrapped first and there had to be pictures.

Ooo! What a surprise!

If this isn't the first thing on your Christmas list,

then you have a Christmas list FAIL.

(Do they pay me to say this? No.)

(But they should.)

Merry Nook-mas!

(Mateo truly is thrilled by our new Nook Tablet.)

I'll help you with your Nook, too...

I just won't sing and dance while I do it.

How about a drumroll...?

So this happened:

"...informing the entire (RCT-5 Marine) family about the early return of 40 of our RCT-5 Marines and Sailors due to the presidential directive to bring troop numbers back to what they were prior to the 2009 surge."

That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Forty of the Marines from Dan's unit will be COMING HOME BEFORE CHRISTMAS. Now, before you get yourself all worked up and excited for me, my husband is not one of them. I know, I know. I was disappointed, too. When we first received the official email, none of the families knew who would be coming home and excitement was high. I mean, I would assume it was pretty high. I know Mateo and I were trying to be all calm, cool, and collected, but secretly we had every finger (...paw?) crossed. I'm a pretty rational girl and I've been in the military biz long enough to know you never get your hopes up. About anything. Ever. That sounds very negative, but believe me. It's the way one has to be when your entire life is based on the whim of the government. So while I never really let myself believe that my husband would be one of the men coming home, I still let myself hope just a wee little bit.

I called my father-in-law immediately upon reading the email and was given quite the history lesson on the inner workings of the Corps and our government. My father-in law is a former Marine (Once a Marine, always a Marine!) and retired as a Lieutenant Colonel. If you have a question about the Marine Corps or the Bible, he's the man to ask. After speaking to him, my thoughts (fears? expectations?) were confirmed that my husband would most probably definitely not be coming home early. Whether it was fatherly pride or Marine intuition, he determined my husband was too important to the mission to leave. And he was right. Although, as my husband said after I finally sent an email saying the suspense was killing me, he "thought it was understood" that he wouldn't be returning early. Um, no. Most definitely not understood. (I mean, c'mon, men. Women aren't mind readers either.) But now? Heard, understood, accepted.

So that's it. That's the Big Secret. There are currently families overwhelmed with happiness that their Marine is coming home. I can only imagine their excitement. This must be the best Christmas present ever! On the other hand, I know there are families overwhelmed with sadness that their Marine is not one of the forty. I'm sure there is anger and bitterness and more than a few broken hearts. Forty families thrilled and much more than that disappointed. Those are the ones we need to keep in our thoughts and prayers. Those are the ones we need to pray find acceptance in this decision and to remember an early homecoming was never promised.

Heard? Understood? Accepted. Sir, yes sir!

(But do I still secretly hope and pray that if they can do an early homecoming once, they can do it again? HELL* YEAH.)

*Sorry, mom.

A man good enough to eat.

"Run, run, fast as you can!
Can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!"

Single Wifedom.

It's been four months since I said goodbye to my husband and sent him off to that giant sandbox Over There. In retrospect, these four months have gone by so fast. It's hard to believe that we've been apart for 120 days (give or take a few). It's not the longest we've ever been apart, but it's most definitely the longest since we've gotten married. I waited so long (so.very.long) to get married that it seems a little (okay, a lot) unfair to be without my husband for a day, let alone 365 of them. I got married because I wanted my best friend to be my constant companion. (Well, not that best friend. Although, the husband jokes that I would probably be happier married to her on most days.) (It's funny 'cause it's true.) If emailing several times a day counts as having that constant companionship then my dream of marriage has been fulfilled. And, if it doesn't, that's okay. My dream of marriage was probably never very realistic the second I decided this Marine would be my husband. (Oh, sure. I decided way before he did.)

As a little girl, I never dreamed about my husband being away from me for months on end or being put in harm's way on a daily basis. I never thought he would be in uniform and carry big guns or have a job that would require us to move every other year all over the country, maybe even the world. (Except for that summer I was obsessed with Top Gun and wanted to marry Ice Man. Boy, was I disappointed to learn they don't usually play volleyball in just their dog tags and jeans.) To be honest, I assumed I would live in Ohio for the rest of my life, down the road from my parents, and married to a teacher. (Why a teacher? I don't know. It just seems like the thing to do.) I also never imagined I would have gelato in Italy or drink ouzo in Greece or eat tapas in Spain or walk where Jesus walked in Couldn't-Find-It-On-A-Map-If-I-Tried-Turkey. I never thought I would own a home a short drive away from the Nation's Capital. Not to mention, drive there (by myself!) and give tours to friends and family after having visited so often. Same goes for The OC, Los Angeles, and San Diego. Who would have guessed I would know Disneyland like the back of my hand? I've done a lot since I married my Marine and I'm fairly certain they're all things I NEVER would have done without him. I'm a Single Wife (sallyannemcbride trademark!), but I'm a lucky girl. I know when to count my blessings. I have a wonderful family (one). Wonderful friends (two). Most of all, a wonderful husband (three). Oh, and don't forget my wonderful kitty (four).

These past four months haven't always been fun and some days have felt like the length of six. We have eight months left before he's home for good, but it's probably best not to focus on that yet. (Because that sounds waaay too far away.) But I think I've done pretty well in 120 days. I've been strong. I've been independent. I've updated my iPhone. I've installed software on my laptop. I've changed a lightbulb. Overall, this Marine Wife is doing just fine on her own. And even though I sometimes selfishly wish he was a teacher and we lived in Ohio, just down the road from my parents, I couldn't have asked for a more perfectly imperfect life than the one I have.

       Husband: Do you think you'll regret this when I deploy for a year?

Wife: Just bring me back something pretty.

God's pinkie swear.

And the bow shall be in the cloud;

and I will look upon it,

that I may remember the everlasting covenant

between God and every living creature of all flesh

that is upon the earth.

Genesis 9:16

Next to Godliness.

Dear mess in the guest room,

In the immortal words of the Dalek,

"Exterminate!"

love,

your owner (of the mess and the room)

This was pretty much my day today. Clean, clean, clean. I'm not sure what possessed me, but the boxes in the guest room were calling my name and demanding they be unpacked. Have they been calling my name since they were first put there a year and a half ago? Most likely. But, like the boxes in the garage, I am deliberately oblivious to their calls. I hate unpacking. I hate packing, too. (Good thing I married a man whose job allows us to settle down and grow roots and get comfortable in a place for a long ti...Oh. Right.) I am agonizingly slooow when it comes to packing for anything, even if it's a vacation I'm excited about taking. The thought of going through all of my clothes and narrowing then down to 3, 6, 10 days worth is painful. Which is why I always overpack and then get chastised by the person who has to lug my suitcase around, aka my husband. (Don't even ask him about Venice. Venice almost broke that Marine.) So I unpacked four boxes and got it down to two, one small one big. The small one only still exists because, even though I would like to, I can't throw away that which is not mine. I also vacuumed, scrubbed countertops, Magic Erasered the sink and bathtubs, wiped down the microwave, and even took off those grates covering the gas stovetop and soaked them in hot water. I guess when the mood strikes...strike back!

Have yourself a fancy little Christmas.

Tonight some friends and I grabbed our candy canes and headed to the ritzy part of town where residents own the stereotypical mansion on the hill, complete with turrets and horses. (Yes, horses. They even have "Horse Crossing" signs on their streets.) These houses are usually professionally done and beautifully lit. (I would guess they are also beautifully unlit as well. They're typically huge with tall windows, big balconies, and grand entryways.) The most amazing house we saw is done by a family who decorates their entire house in Christmas lights and then sets the whole thing to music. You can even tune into a specific radio station to hear the music and see how it's timed to the lights. As we sat across the street, surrounded by other cars and looky-loos, we noticed people going in and out of the house as though it was open to the public. And, lo and behold, it was! So we went inside and were even more astounded by what we saw. The entire house looked like Christmas threw up all over it. There were Christmas trees, ornaments, wreathes, garland, villages, fake snow, lights, stockings, Santas, and various other wintery themed decorations covering every.square.inch. It was incredible!

The outside of the house, mid-song.



The entryway.

Looking up in the entryway.



Their pots and pans rack...

not just for pots and pans anymore! 

 Sooo...this is their Christmas village,

complete with a fake, snow-covered glittering mountain range.

Right.

Who-Ville. 

Ah, yes. Disneyland. 

 And let's not forget a Charlie Brown Nativity.

Upside.Down.Christmas Tree.

Buck up, Buttercup!*

A woman I work with, after noticing I was quiet and grumpy, said something to me that really struck home. I told her I was irritated and letting someone else's combative attitude get me down. Her response? "You're living alone while your husband is deployed. It's just you right now. Only you can take care of you. Letting someone get inside your head and bring you down is only hurting you." So simple and yet so true. It is just me right now. When my husband was home, I had a live-in support system. I had a sounding board who would listen to me get it ALL out. (Yea for married life! Where you're contractually obligated to listen.) And like every man I've ever met, he would offer advice (whether I wanted it or not). He would strategize and give me a plan of attack just like he would for any Marine...er, wife. I now come home to an empty house and have no one there to really unload on with all of the day's craziness. Email just doesn't have quite the same...oomph...as face to face. Sure, he still gets an "earful" via email and writing it out makes for a good release. Ultimately, though, the solution is fairly easy. Instead of getting myself all worked up over something trivial, I've decided to just not get myself worked up. (So, yeah...That shouldn't be too hard.) But it is important to not let silly, inconsequential issues get to me. I have enough going on that I could freak out about if I really needed a reason to freak out. There are enough worries and stresses (and let's not forget about that deployed husband who pretty much encompasses ALL of those worries and stresses) to really kill a mood. It's my choice on how I want to react to certain situations in my life. It's my choice to be happy, with or without my attentive husband. (Or as attentive as he can be while playing on his computer, checking his iPhone, and watching the SyFy channel.) (I kid, husband!) (Sort of.) So I choose to shrug it off and move on. I choose to eat Chunky Monkey ice cream, snuggle with my cat, and watch Family Ties on Netflix.

Because that's how I take care of me.

*Or, as we say in this family, "Suck it up, Marine!"

Everybody look what's going down.

There's something happening, or potentially happening, or about to be happening that I would love to talk about, but am sworn to secrecy. By the Marine Corps. One of those "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you" top-level, security clearance type of happenings. ...Okaaay, maybe it's not that Top Secret. What I know is probably not even half of what is actually happening so what I could tell you wouldn't be all that earth-shattering. The 'Wife Clearance" is really just above the media finding out and blasting it all over the news. But I know something you (probably) don't know (na na na na boo boo!), and rest assured, once I'm given the "all clear", I'll tell you about it. Pinkie swear.

(Also, I kind of hate when people post cryptic status updates or blog posts. Most of the time it just feels like a cry for attention. They post leading statements that are just begging for someone to ask "Why?" or "What?" or "Tell me, tell me!" and that's annoying. Just explain what's going on, for crying out loud. So I realize I'm not explaining what's going on (for crying out loud!), but it's something I've been thinking about a lot today. Once the Great and Powerful Oz...I mean, USMC...gives permission to speak, I can post my thoughts/feelings/prayers and move on. I also realize this is creating quite a build-up with not much of a finale. My apologies, dear readers. We'll revisit this in the near future.)

Building them castles in the sky.

Just the two of us.

Mateo and I are back to living on our own. (I feel like I should say, "Party time!", but that's kind of the opposite of what I want.) The roommate moved out on the same day my mom flew in and now my mom is back home in the O-H. I actually really enjoyed having a roommate and I always love having family come visit. (Do you feel a "but" coming on...?) But, (...and there it is) it's also kind of nice to have the house back to myself for a little while. I don't have to worry about what anyone else is doing, if they want to eat dinner, what time their favorite show comes on, where they want to go for entertainment (the movies, Disneyland, Costco). No more hostess duties! After all, Mateo is pretty easy to please. Just make sure his litter is clean, his food bowl is full, and his bed is positioned correctly on the Major's chair and he's content. It will be nice to have some downtime...until a week from now when the in-laws come for Christmas. (Which will actually be pretty awesome.)

(I'll say this for having visitors, it sure does make the time go by faster. Only four more months until the husband comes home for R&R!) 

The 'Joey'.

I like to think of this as his "How you doin'?" look.

p.s. ...aaand that's all I've got for today's post. I'm exhausted and in need of sleep and quiet time. I will definitely attempt to have something more substantial (or as my husband says, "More words!") tomorrow. 

Who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?

Mother/Daughter matching shirts = $20

Mickey/Minnie Mouse ears = $30

Meeting The Mouse = priceless



December at the beach: sunshine, sunglasses, sweaters.

I will never get used to living so close to the ocean.

It's a Midwesterner's dream come true.

This bumpy pile of rocks looks like a good place to sit.

Jeans rolled up and sunglasses on.

Motorized paraglider dude.

(Also, taking you back to the 70's with this camera filter.)

Groovy.

A thoughtful stranger offered to take our photo

after seeing the hilarious efforts to take our own.

(Isn't that usually the case?)

Ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future.

Mateo and I participated in a photo shoot

per our deployed loved one's request.

Mom and I put the decorations on the tree today.

Mateo approves.

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes...kitty.

My first pair of Toms!

Mateo and I enjoy sparkly shoes and easy charity work.

(Buy a pair of Toms and a pair is donated to a child in need.)

My Christmas last year...

and definitely my Christmas next year.

Definitely.



Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright.*

Today was full of things I love the most: eating out at yummy restaurants, a Starbucks holiday drink, shopping at an outlet mall, cheesecake for dessert, and watching a Christmas movie. Mom and I started our day with breakfast at the bagel shop across the street followed up by a stop at my bookstore to take advantage of our employee extra discount days. (Sometimes that giant corporation of drones actually appreciates the peons who work for it!) We bought a lot of books and DVDs and a few special Christmas CDs for our ride in the car. If it's after Thanksgiving and my mom is in your car, you had better have a Christmas CD at the ready. Today's selection was brought to us by Patty Loveless (for a little bluegrass Christmas), Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton (it does NOT get any better than them), and Bing Crosby (total classic). We drove into LA to shop at the one and only outlet in the city, The Citadel. I resisted buying anything at the Coach store, despite their oh so tempting coupon. My mother, however, gave in to the siren's call and bought a lovely new purse. I did purchase some things at The Gap as I am my mother's daughter and cannot resist a good sale. Leaving with a slightly fuller SUV than we drove in with, we headed to our favorite seafood restaurant in Dana Point. It sits high on a hill, overlooking the Pacific Ocean and Dana Point Harbor.

A lovely view, and I don't just mean us.

A photo shoot before dinner.

After our awesome meal of lobster bisque and stuffed shrimp (me) and coconut shrimp and scallops (her), we headed home for a slice of cheesecake and an equally cheesy Christmas movie. It was a good end to our fun-filled day. Tomorrow I work (boo!), but I'm sure my mom will have her fill of Target shopping before my shift ends.



Mateo loves cheesy Christmas movies, too.

*Mele Kalikimaka! 





It's a holiday world after all!

In the interest of posting more than once every two weeks (Seriously. What is my problem? I have all sorts of funny, interesting things to say. Clearly, I need to stop looking at this blog as "homework".), I've decided to steal an idea from blogs who do the Photo A Day blog posts. I figure this will force (...politely remind?) me to post something every day and give y'all (I lived in North Carolina for a year. People ask me all the time if I'm from the South.) something to look at. (That was a lot of parentheses for one paragraph. I will not apologize.) (So there.)

So today my mom (who's visiting me from Ohio. Shout out to the Kay-Bomb!) and I went to Disneyland. She has declared herself the "Queen of Christmas" so there is no better place to be than the Happiest Place on Earth at Christmastime. I'm pretty sure she loved it. How could you not? Lights on every inch of every ride, store, and lamppost. A Christmas tree as big as you've ever seen, sparkling at the entrance to Main Street. Soapy, vanilla-scented snow falling on the visitors and then inevitably seeing a small child open his mouth wide to catch a "snowflake"...and then spit like crazy to get the soapiness out of his mouth. It was a great day and I love having my mama in California, even if it's only for a few days. It's always nice to have a little bit of home in SoCal.

Welcome to happiness, Buckeye!

Walt and Mickey are so welcoming.

Wedging myself into a photo.

IT'S SANTAAAAAAAA!

Also, this has nothing to do with Disneyland, but my mom met her grandkitty for the first time. It was love at first sight.

Mateo and Grandma.