OCD Moment

I've been experiencing some insomnia lately. Especially on nights before I wake up for early gym time. It's like my body knows it's only going to get up in a few hours, coupled with anxiety about how many guys will be in the weight room with me. Ugh, I hate the weight room. I love weight lifting, but hate the weight room. I would be perfectly fine doing everything with the soft 8-10lb free weights, a body bar and a exercise ball. But since I am following a certain workout plan, I am trying to not to alter my exercises and 'cheat'.

So, insomnia leads to thinking about crazy things I don't normally have time to think about. But you want to know something that bothers my OCD? Seeing dogs of completely different sizes/breeds/shapes together. Wait, let me explain....

It's not that it is wrong, or I think it doesn't make logical sense. I think people who have all types of dogs, or have a few are great! They're wonderful for being open to all shapes/sizes of doggies. But for some reason, I get that little 'sting' that accompanies OCD/anxiety when I see people walking dogs that are totally different.

For instance, I could never have a Basset Hound and a German Shepherd. I can't have a chihuahua and a Rhodesian Ridgeback. These dogs are so different in their size, breed, demeanor. 

I could have two chihuahuas, or a chihuahua and a pomeranian type doggie. I could have two similar typed terrier breeds. I would even be fine with A German Shepherd and a Lab. Those mixtures are okay. They are similar enough in size and temperament. But ideally, I would have two identical animals.

I noticed this mostly when we were visiting the shelter last weekend. We played with this little (10lb-ish) black and brown pincher-chihuahua-some dog that was bigger-mix, and I just couldn't commit to him. First of all, his temperament wasn't what we were looking for, so before you banish me to hell for being a doggy racist, we wouldn't have gotten him anyway. BUT, I just couldn't see having two dogs that looked so different! Is that weird? No, keep that opinion to yourself. 

Now, some of you are going to say, "Well, but you got a CAT! What could be more different than that?'

But see, it doesn't bother me when they are different species. For some reason. I don't know why, but it doesn't. But now, If we were to ever get another cat (this is totally hypothetical) I think it would need to be orange-y, or at least short haired. I couldn't have a short haired tabby and then a long haired something or another. 

Disclaimer: This isn't supposed to make sense to normal people. 

Introducing Sansa

I know, I know, what all of you are going to say. "Why on Earth did you get a cat?" I don't really have a good explanation other than we had been tossing the idea around for a few months, and went back and forth on whether or not it was a good idea. Probably the thought of the eminent boredom at Edwards was the kicker. Bailey had made good friends with the Galloway's dog last week during our drive, and she had a great time playing again. After we got here, she seemed kind of bored, sad even. We were open to looking for a dog or a cat but after visiting the shelters several times this weekend, we couldn't find a pup to entertain Bailey. Maybe a kitten would be a fun playmate for her. The kids have been asking for a cat for awhile, and when visiting the 'cattery', we found one we thought had a good temperament. A 2 month old orange tabby. She's cute, tolerant of the kids and okay with Bailey. By okay, I mean that she hisses and keeps her distance most of the time. However, curiosity gets the best of her and they have had a few encounters. Nothing too dramatic, but I wouldn't call it copacetic yet. I'll take it as a good sign that the kitty still plays openly around the kids and Bailey, and doesn't take to biting, scratching or hiding. So, here's Sansa:

*yes, we named her after the character from Game of Thrones.

The Fun has Arrived

That's what I imagined saying when we drove in through the gate on Monday. You know, that scene from Disney's Tarzan where that gender ambiguous monkey loudly proclaims that yes, indeed, the fun has arrived. No? You don't remember that one? Oh, maybe it's just me and the fact that I listened to Tarzan 34,586 times over the past week.
We drove from Tucson to Edwards on Monday after spending two nights with some good friends, the Galloways. We had actually allowed two days to drive the distance, but we were all so tired of driving/riding, we knew we needed to rip the band-aid off quickly and painfully instead of dragging the thing out. After we arrived in Tucson, we were starkly reminded how HOT it in the southwest. Holy crap. It was hot. When we stopped just north of Phoenix, I thought my skin was going to melt off. No really, It was a legitimate concern. Clay actually cried from the gas canopy to the inside of the gas station because his body felt like it was on fire. Mine did too.

So, side note here, wet heat vs. dry heat. I am here to proclaim that it doesn't matter one IOTA if it is wet heat or dry heat. Everyone always says, "Oh, but at lest it's a dry heat". When you're over 105 it DOESN'T MATTER WHAT HEAT YOU ARE IN. YOU ARE IMMEDIATELY AWARE OF YOUR CERTAIN DEMISE. I will say that under the 105 degree threshold though, there are some notable differences. In wet heat, you are sweaty and wet and breathing becomes more labored. You get a tiny bit of relief one the sun goes down, but not much.

In dry heat, you feel like you have an instant sunburn. Like your skin is on fire. A completely different sensation than wet heat. Miserable, all the same, but different. However, when the sun goes down you do get a good 20 degrees of relief. Which is really nice. In fact, sometimes you even need a hoodie at night. The only exception to this rule that I know of is Phoenix, where it is still 110 degrees at night. I am not sure, but I was told that it is because Phoenix is all concrete and it holds the heat. So there you go, your lesson for the day. I've lived in both dry/wet heat for the past 5 years and I don't ever want to hear anyone ever tell me again, "At least it's a dry/wet heat." It ALL SUCKS, ALL THE TIME.

Okay, so back on track here, our GPS was trying to take us through Los Angeles to get to Edwards, which we knew was NOT the shortest way. However, in all the craziness, we forgot to map out our way before we hit the road, so we kind of willy nilly decided we kind of remembered the way to the South gate and we could kind of 'head that direction' and the GPS would correct itself eventually. We knew to go to the 215, but couldn't remember exactly where we were supposed to meet up with 138, and so on. This leads to us wandering around in El Mirage, CA for about an hour. In case you don't know where that is, it is the middle of the desert, nowhere, California. We were heading the right direction, but going probably the most indirect way you could possibly imagine. After we could have probably gone through LA and gotten there through the west gate, we finally arrived at the south gate (I was so terrified that the south gate was going to be closed, Edwards does funny things like that for no reason). we arrive on base, unload at our tlf, and realize, "Hey, we're hungry and it's dinner time." We promptly decide to head to Panda Express on base for a quick meal and realize the water on base hasn't been working all day! YAY! ALL THE EATING ESTABLISHMENTS ARE CLOSED! Super yay! Don't y'all know that to just drive to anywhere off base is a good 25 minutes? At least? So with three hungry screaming kids we get into the car and drive where? To the west gate! You know the one we probably could have gotten to faster and while over there, gotten some food!?  Hahaha! Such a funny joke after an 11 hour car ride.
We go to some burger joint where Clay proceeds to whine and throw a fit about wanting a sprite and how it's not coming fast enough. Carter spills his drink into my purse, and then Clay refuses to eat his food. After having to switch tables twice because of spills and finding out clay isn't eating because he wanted a soft taco, not a crunchy one (but that would have just made to much sense for him to tell us!) we scarf down what we can and manhandle the kids back into the car to make the 25 minute drive back to base.
I am sure the fun has just begun.

PCS

We're about smack dab in the middle of ours, just like the rest of the Air Force it seems. We've traveled 3,637 miles (driven 2,617 of it) so far and still have 1,461 miles left to go (driving in separate cars this time). It's been a lot of crazy fun and I am hoping I will have some time in the next few days for actual posting. Don't you hate that when you have lots to post about, you don't have time to post it? Yet, when there's nothing exciting going on, you have plenty of time to post about how nothing exciting is going on. We have visited Cory's family in the Midwest, My family in TX and we're off to stay with some great friends in Tucson for 2 days then finally to good ol' Edwards, CA by the 20th of this month.

Carter's Sports Festival

Carter was not in a gymnastics class this year but a tumbling class. Meh, I was a little less than impressed. But, we're moving in 2 weeks anyway. There's a pretty good gym in Palmdale that Carter attended when he was 3 but we had to take a break when he fractured his skull.

Sports Festival

Remember when I used to write things on this blog? You know, my thoughts and funny stories? Ha! That was the day, wasn't it? It wasn't all just pictures and videos of the kids? Hopefully I will get back to that soon. Oh! I know! When we get to Edwards, I will have plenty of time to write. I won't have a house to unpack and the kids won't have school or activities yet. The only problem is that I may not have anything worth writing about. We shall see friends, we shall see. Until then, enjoy videos of Clay at sports festival.

Editor's Note: Not everyone may want to watch 5+ minutes of a 3 yr old doing 'gymnastics'. If inclined, skip to the last clip for the 44 second awards ceremony.      

Vivi's Interview 2012