Week 18...Week 19

Errrrr or something like that. Goodness gracious, what have I been doing? To my defense, I probably started close to 5 or 6 updates and forgot they were there with the phone ringing, dogs barking, etc.

I can hardly believe the end of this week starts the month of May. And the girls and I are slowly getting back into a routine.

I am desperately trying to work less. My last job I worked close t 110 hours a week and it completely consumed my life. I promised myself this time I would be different. However, I find myself at times falling into that trap. Overall, I enjoy my job.

Although I did not run the half-marathon for numerous reasons (fell again rollerblading...sick for 2 weeks...starting a new job), I feel somewhat accomplished for keeping up with my deployment goals.

I am still cooking many new receipes and quite proud of myself. Last week I brought over homemade macaroni and cheese for a woman in our company who delievered a baby less than a month ago.

In other exciting news, we (my mom and I) finished decorating the second guest room. And to be honest, its some of her best work yet. I spent less than $200 and my mom probably spent another $200. The result:

Before

After

I absolutely love it and more importantly, he loves it.

I am still reading. I read The Last Lecture last month and still deciding what to read for May.

Right now, I am trying to plan a trip for his R&R in August, desperately trying to get back in shape, and getting ready to open my pool for summer, which excites me.

I cannot complain. Time seems to be moving along nicely...

Get it together...

You think I would get around to a few more things in my life since the grandparents still have my babies up in Chi-town. However, this is not the case. I feel I am running around more with weddings, birthdays, etc.

Yes, believe it or not, almost two weeks since I last saw Dakota and Daisy. And as much as I miss them, I cannot even imagine my life with them here right now. Last Thursday I worked until 11pm to make sure I left for my flight at 3am Friday morning for my best friend's wedding. Tonight I walked in the door around 7:30pm after finally going to the grocery store.

Now I am hoping things will slow down once my boss finishes up her conferences and my streak of being out town for four consecutive weekends comes to a screeching halt.

That being said, I am desperately trying to get back in shape, but lacking serious motivation. Since I quit all sports my senior year of high school, I am either all in or all out. Once I fall off the wagon, it takes me awhile to get back into working out.

You name it, I committed myself to many different kinds of workouts from pilates, tennis, sand volleyball, running half-marathons, boxing, trainers, rollerblading, tae-bo, kickboxing etc. When I commit to any of those workouts, I become addicted resulting in the best shape(s) of my life.

I believe I am bored with the above workouts. I need something new.

Starting May 1st I will begin P90X.

I am also desperately trying to get myself on some schedule. Being out of town for a weekend throws thing off for me. However, I may have to wait for next week. This week is full of important appointments, after work Chamber events, huge luncheons, and keeping up with my boss's work.

Glass half full moment: My house is still spotless after cleaning it a week ago.

Running back to my bubble

My weekend was full of culture, family, and laughs. My best friend got married this weekend.

I met Janette in 4th grade. She was the new girl. Years later we talked about her struggles and being a curly hair Puerto Rican in an all white private school. Even at 9 years, I considered myself the social director, so my bubbly blond self was the first one to say hi.

The rest is history.

From basketball camps to 3am Monopoly games, to this day, I've never laughed as hard as I did with her. Her family became my family and vice versa. When my grandfather passed, my parents went to California for two weeks and I stayed with her family.

I argued with her dad about the remote control, fought with her older sister, and was chased down by her mother screaming at me in Spanish.

She moved to Florida before high school and we still managed to see each other twice a year. When I use to spend my Spring Breaks at their house, her dad would wake us up by singing to us in Spanish as loudly as possible until we started throwing pillows at him. Lately with our careers, we talk less and less, but Net and I hated the phone.

Her mother picked me up from the airport and took me to their house. While walking into their house, I noticed Net yelling at someone on the phone. I walked to the refrigerator, took out two things of string cheese, opened both of them and handed her one. She smiled and ate it immediately. All of this before she even said hi to me.

I tell people I think we might be twins separated at birth.

All weekend, I did everything for her. Many times I called her a crazy Bridezilla bitch and that if she gets married again, don't ask me to be a bridesmaid. She would laugh, give me a big obnoxious hug and tell me she loves me.

Its the best feeling in the world, being needed by your best friend and in return helping her out. There were eight bridesmaids, but she always yelled my name. Right before the father-daughter dance, I heard the groomsmen yelling that she was again calling for me. I had to busel her dress before she went out on the dance floor.

My entire weekend could be summed up in one picture and one sentence.

Janette wanted to go into the bathroom to have the hairdresser fix her hair, but didn't want her dress to drag on the floor. In my silver heels and pink dress, I squatted behind her holding her dress up.

Her sister snapped a picture.

And before we left for the wedding, we needed to pack the car. Janette went to grab a box and Lillie (her mom) said, "Don't take that one, let Courtney, it's too heavy" We all immediately started laughing.

After the reception, while she rested her feet on my lap and people came up to us to tell her good-bye, we started talking babies. I told her she was going to have beautiful babies and she in return informed me that I am already the Godmother for their first baby.

One of the best feelings...

I truly had a wonderful time at the wedding. The bridal party mixed so well together and shared a lot of laughs.

Today I could not wait to get back to my bubble.

Of course during the wedding, you see so many couples happy and in love. Followed by the "How are you". And then "Aw, deployment?" and a "When did he leave/when does he return?" and a "How are you handling it".

Every once in awhile I do not mind, but I love that I do not feel alone here, I have some amazing women her who keep me company. My good friend and I came to a realization we kind of live in a bubble where everyone understands.

And that is OK with me. I like my military bubble. I feel safe in it.

Can we laugh now?

So after pacing in my office this morning, I saw my dad's number on the caller ID. He gave me the news...

Her diagnosis: A cat scratched her eye.

Not just any cat, my cat at home. Now before you all laugh at the very crazy dog lady, the doctor did tell my mother and his mother the scratch could have been fatal. Apparently cats carry quite a bit of gross, disease like things in their claws.

The doctor told them it was a blessing we treated Daisy for a UTI (you didn't loose a week and a half of sleep lady) because my dad religiously fed her the antibiotics since Saturday. The medicine pretty much killed all the bacteria and infection from my cat's claws.

I couldn't tell you the relief and thousand pound bricks lifted off my shoulders when I said out loud, "She's going to be OK".

Moving on to the good part. He hates...no, no, no hate is an understatement...he loathes our cat at home. I do not care much for our 15 year old cat because of my allergies. But everyone knows how he feels about the cat.

I will edit the love of my life's response to my news on Daisy. I laughed so hard at work. And I promise you he will not hurt the cat. They are all threats.

We all know I am a avid F.R.I.E.N.D.S. fan so I will replace any swear words with the word candy.

"I am going to kill that mother candy cat.I cannot believe that candy cat hurt Daisy. If she is not dead when I get home I am going to candy put that candy cat in the candy microwave"


That is all folks.

Fight Like Hell

On my drive home Friday night (before the bad news), I called his sister like I typically do on my long drives and we chatted for a good hour.

She and her boyfriend hit a rough patch in their relationship. They reached their one year anniversary last week. And she does what I use to do way back in my 15, 16 year old days with my love. I stubbornly sat on the other side of the phone refusing to call him. Have I ever mentioned our first year together was something out of a bad teen relationship movie?

Our relationship improved mostly because I refused to give up. Yes, I will take a lot of credit and most days he even agrees. I told his sister on the phone, "This advice might shock you and I am sure your other girlfriends might not be telling you this, but you have to call him, so what if you call him more than he calls you, big deal. If its what you want, fight like hell".

Fight back.

Moving on to his mother. Well way back almost 9 years ago, we butted heads on our first meeting together and over the years, it happened a lot more. I would never dare say I hated her, but we really didn't get along.

That is until I started voicing my opinion. Through this deployment we talk almost everyday like best friends. She took me out to breakfast on Sunday and we discussed many things. The topic of Army came up and we disagreed on something. She said something bluntly and voiced her opinion. And back in the day I would curl up into a ball and let her comments eat at me. I snapped back and spoke my opinion. I did not back down.

And when I walked into my house yesterday, I received the sweetest email from her saying she is so proud of me and loves being a part of my life. I think she respects and truly loves the fighter in me.

Fight back.

Now his grandfather. Diagnosed with cancer last July. I, unfortunately did not worry for a minute. It is his grandfather! I mean this 80 year old lifts at the gym, hunts, walks, goes to Church every Sunday.

So when I found out last week his cancer doubled in size. I suddenly wished I prayed a little harder for him over the last year. When I visited him this weekend, I did not see a 80 year old with terminal cancer, I actually saw his grandfather, one of the toughest old men I've ever met. He looked surprisingly healthy and God, you better know he is not going down without a fight. Grandpa keep...

Fighting back.

Now my events through the past two weeks might not get some people down, but I definitely hit a very low point. I cannot explain what I felt happening to my body, to my emotions, to my mental state. Where did my spunk go? I spend a lot of my time and days concentrating on the positive. I am without a doubt an optimistic. On Saturday, I honestly wanted to give up...to cry, to lock myself in my room until his mid tour. On my drive Sunday I continued to tell myself...

Fight back.

And Daisy. Tomorrow is judgement day. His wonderful mother and my wonderful mother will be taking her to a specialist together. She is my pistol, my ball of energy and humor, and I do not even need to tell her...

Fight back.

Because I know my dog will fight like hell.

Today, after three weeks, I received my first, new account at work. The love of my life surprised me with a plane ticket to Tampa Bay so I do not have to spend 24 hours in the car this weekend. And last night I slept for a continuous 7 hours for the first time in 10 nights.

And even though I truly believe Daisy will be OK, if you could, send a few prayers or good luck thoughts her way, I know we both will appreciate them.

Seriously

I really hate trying to play "poor me", but I just really want remember the lowest point of this deployment, how I handled it, and more importantly how I trucked through it.

That being said...

I fell rollerblading yesterday. Tripped over Dakota. And while meeting with a client I decided for some reason to drive over the parking curb. I began to laugh at myself and said, this will get better.

I think I may have been off just a little...

His wonderful mother met a vet appointment at her vet's office. Dr Jones is a good family friend and adores not only me, but him. He coached my love in soccer for years and their kids grew up together. As soon as I saw him I gave him a big hug.

Before he entered the room, Daisy did her usual staring. Only I noticed she looked VERY creepy. One of her pupils was so tiny and the other was normal size. I asked his mother, "Doesn't she look weird". Now this dog stares at me all of the time, so I truly believe this is the first time I noticed this.

Dr. Jones walked in and I pointed out her eye. He looked a little confused and pulled her onto the examining table and said he needed to go get a few more tools. Well Miss Daisy jumped off the table and into the Doctor's area. I apologized and Dr. Jones said he actually wanted the doctors to look at her eyes. I laughed, walked back into the room.

I immediately turned around to see 3 doctors surrounding her in addition to a tech holding her down. I made a joke to his mom, "Oh they do not want to tell the crazy dog lady something is terribly wrong with her dog".

Dr. Jones walked in and it did not look good. He seemed very confused by her eye. He said something is pushing her pupil forward in the back of her head. Fungal disease is common in huskies and other wolf like dogs.

I continued to nod and said, what every other owner would say, "What does this mean?"

His response, "I want to wait and see, but Courtney, I do not want to even go there just yet, let's just say it's not good, worse case scenario". Dr. Jones knowing me immediately grabbed the kleenex box.

And 1 hour later, I am still crying.

Dr. Jones told me to wait until Monday to see what happens with her eye. Right now Dak is over with his parents and my parents are spoiling Daisy rotten.

If there is any silver lining in any of this, I mean what are the chances that not only am I sitting in the vet's office when I notice this, but his mother happens to know a dog eye specialist's home number since her own bulldog went there a few times.

Screw you Murphy.

Week Sixteen...Week Seventeen

I am OVER it. So over it.

When I finally sat down today, my dad called to tell me he didn't think he could watch the dogs next weekend. I had my first complete and utter breakdown since he left 17 weeks ago.

My past two weeks

Work

Broke not 1, but 2 printers and honestly sat on the phone for one hour yesterday while our IT guy tried to explain how to upload the MP feeder. Yeah, not going to happen, just send someone to fix it. I don't have the time or patience for it, but yet he kept trying to explain this impossible task to me.

I forgot my password one week after working. Keep in mind I type this password in 20 times a day minimum and had to call IT.

And of course my suspended license

Money

I have never been good with money or budgeting. I glance at my accounts online every once in a blue moon. I realized my first check did not automatically deposit, four days after the fact. I am also in between switching banks and thought I had all my ducks in a row until today. I remembered my car payment came out of my account that I am closing, so I bounced my first "check" and am now in the negative.

And when does it end? Bridesmaid dresses, vet appointments, race registrations, even sending care pacakges. Sometimes I wish it really did grow on trees, at least every once in awhile.

My dogs

Well it all started with the thought of boarding them two weeks ago. Oh yeah, did you know that cost money too?!

After raving about my favorite Nine West high heels I bought 6 years ago for $100 (my most expensive clothing purchase ever) to my friend Kristyn, I began packing for the wedding. And when I reached for the shoes, one was missing. I looked underneath my bed, also known as Daisy's cave, and saw the right one absolutely destroyed in her mouth.

I also hate dog hair and Daisy's hair is just out of control and almost overwhelming. When I am not at work, I am following her around the house with my vacuum.

Sunday night after an exhausting weekend, I came home to Daisy and her brand new urinary tract infection. She peed on my carpet for the first time since October. And then again on the kitchen floor and then on the dining room floor. During the night, she woke me up every 2 hours to go outside. Sometimes we made it outside, other times we did not.

Three nights later...I am still waking up every 2 hours with her. Vet appointment is scheduled for Saturday, once my check deposits. Again you need money to see the vet.

Him

After one of the best weekends since he left, I ached the entire ride back home with thoughts of missing him. I loved I was a part of their special day, but these are his friends and it just wasn't the same without him.

I also did not hear from him all week, which I am ok with, but I just needed him a little more this week than normal. And of course the whole "I email you every single night and you cannot just hit reply" mentality came bubbling up to the surface.


I mowed the grass a week ago and it needs to be cut again, like badly. I did not run once this week. My bridesmaid dress still has not come in (wedding next weekend) and I spent a good part of the week talking with numerous representatives at the bridal online store. His grandfather's cancer just doubled in size and we really doubt he will make it to his R&R. I was looking forward to driving home this weekend and leaving my dogs there all next week since I am out of town next weekend for my best friend's wedding and just really need a break. And believe it or not, I was looking forward to cleaning my house, like REALLY clean. Then my dad called and said next week might not workout.

Enter: tears

I do not think he knew those few, simple sentences could do that much damage, but there is some baggage behind it.

I hate playing the "poor me" card, but I am just so over the deployment right now.

I did realize through of this that the love of my life really does make everything go away, I absolutely love the friends in my life, I am actually pretty good at my job, I love cupcakes, and my dad will do anything for me. Like promise me ice cream tomorrow night.

I guess if this is the worst of it, I am still alive and kicking. And it can only get better, right?