More Snow

I am mad at Wyoming.

We were supposed to go to Wal-Mart today. And Circuit City. And get some lunch at Perkins.

However. We were dumped with snow again.

When I woke up Tom was all, "Bad news. I-25 is closed.."

I-25 is what we have to travel on to get to Wal-Mart and those other areas.

Then I peeked outside and saw the new snow. I slammed the door shut and shouted, "I am MAD at Wyoming."

Tom thought this was hilarious. "You can't be mad at a State."

"I can and I am!" I snapped.

Three people have already gotten stuck in the snow. Each time Tom has gone out to help them.

He really is a good guy. He'll be watching TV and announce, "Oh no, someone else is stuck again," and then he'll put on his gloves and hat and run out and help. Because that's just the kind of man he is.

I love him.

However, the people who got stuck didn't get far. As soon as they were dug out and tried to go down the street they were met by a huge snow pile. So they had to turn around and return home.

So yes, we're stuck.

This time we can get out of the driveway but not down the street. Both ways are blocked with a huge pile of snow. On one side a person is stuck so that completely blocks the exit.

The plows?

HAH.

We called about that.

They're short-staffed and we're low priority. Because we're only base housing.

I just hate being trapped in the house like this. Especially when I was all ready to shop.

Plus, thanks to The Travel Channel, I now am craving donuts. They had an entire hour long program on the history of donuts and I must have one.

Tommy is all, "I want to go to Wal-Mart."

Me too, kid, me too.

The good news is that we should be finished with the snow. It's just the digging out part that might take awhile because remember, there was still snow left over from the last time we were dumped.

Maybe we'll get out tomorrow.

Colds and Bouncers

*Coughs*

Dang it.

I'm sick.

I don't want to brag but I have a kick ass immune system. I don't get sick often.

But the odds were against my poor immune system. It seems everyone we encounter on this base is sick at the moment. They're either sniffling, sneezing, coughing, dripping snot, and if they're really unlucky, they're doing all those things and it's all, "Oh geez, don't get your nasty germs on me."

Tom is in training now and he's been reporting that everyone in the room was sick.

Great.

He started training about two weeks ago and my immune system worked on overdrive trying to keep the evil coldies away.

But last night, it gave up.

Pretty much told me, "Sorry, you're on your own. I can't handle this anymore."

And I woke up with a sore throat, a stuffed up nose and no appetite.

Fine immune system, just fine.

No vitamin C for you.

Just kidding.

Tom also doesn't get sick often but he finally succomed to the cold too. I think our immune systems are in sync. Or, you know, we swapped our germs with the kissing.

And Tommy, he has had a runny nose for the past few days that has turned into light coughing.

Poor kid.

Seriously though, we're a family of awesome immune systems. Tommy is rarely sick and I tell him to thank my boobs for that.

"HUH?" he'll look completely and utterly shocked at that.

Then Tom will go, "AMBER. Don't tell him that! Geez."

And I'll go, "But it's true!"

Because even when he does get sick, it passes fairly quickly and he's only been in the ER once. That was because I was a New Mom though. He was about eleven months old I believe and started to puke every few minutes. He turned into that chick from The Exorcist, only he was vomiting orange stuff, not green.

It scared the crap out of me so I made Tom take us to the ER.

"He just has a stomach virus," Tom grumbled, but took me anyway because I wouldn't stop crying and the vomit was beginning to gross him out.

It was just a stomach virus. The doctor was kind though, probably used to hysterical mothers.

This is why I plan on breastfeeding Natalie as well.

Anyhow.

No more talk of the family of sickies.

Yesterday we went to Target.

Of course Tom was freaked out.

Why he even bothers to leave the house is beyond me.

(Oh yeah. Because I force him to. Hah!)

What freaked him out were all the shoppers in the Christmas aisles. Because, you know, everything was 50% off and when things are 50% off people tend to go nuts. They'll buy things they don't even need just because, well, it's 50% off.

I only found some Star Wars ornaments for Tommy.

The rest of the stuff I reminded myself that I didn't really need.

Even though I found a really cute Santa rug. But Tom was all, "Why in the world do we need a Santa rug??"

Because it's FESTIVE you Grinch.

We were in and out in fifteen minutes.

Had it been just me I'd have been wandering around for over an hour.

I sort of go into a shopping daze when I'm by myself or with someone who also appreciates the fine art of shopping.

I also got the bouncer I wanted for Natalie.

Here's a secret: if you ask for things when you see Tom is really aggitated, he'll usually say yes because he wants to leave.

So I was all, "Oh here's the bouncer I wanted!" and he was all, "Yeah yeah put it in the cart, can we GO??"

Then we checked out.

And Tom was baffled by the total cost.

He grabbed that receipt and shouted, "That bouncer was FIFTY TWO bucks!"

The cashier sort of smirked. She obviously had seen stressed out husbands before.

"It's a GOOD bouncer," I promised.

Tom shoved the receipt in his pocket. "It better be good for fifty two bucks. What does it do, fly?"

"No even better! It vibrates AND it can play music. AND it's soft AND you can throw the chair part in the washer in case Natalie makes a mess on it. The cheaper bouncers you can't do that you know.." I explained as we walked to the truck.

"FIFTY TWO BUCKS!"

Tom couldn't seem to get that out of his head.

So I went for the guilt.

"Don't you want your daughter to have nice things?" I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

This sort of worked. Tom sighed and went, "I do but..it's a bouncer for goodness sakes. You just plop the kid in it. Bouncers should not cost fifty two dollars. They just shouldn't.."

I patted him on the shoulder. "Welcome to the year 2006--soon to be 2007--where most things are overpriced.."

Quickie

Just popped on real quick.

Merry Christmas!

Husband got two new computer games.

Which means no computer for me.

He returns to work tomorrow so I will update then.

(Am trying to convince him to take me to the after Christmas sales. Right now he gives me a face that looks as though he's sucked on many many lemons.)

I'm in the middle of cooking dinner.

Ham, green bean casserole, yams, biscuits, and mashed potatoes.

Apple pie for dessert.

(The only pie husband will eat.)

[Not homemade. Am not Betty Crocker. Am a Mrs. Smith pie buyer and proud of it]

Guess what?

Husband got me a Nintendo DS.

Was completely confused at first and didn't realize it could also play GameBoy Advance games.

Also got a GameBoy Advance game and ran upstairs to get GameBoy Advance.

Husband says, "What are you doing? The DS plays GameBoy games too!"

Oh.

So it does.

Tommy also got a Clone Trooper gun.

I'm not sure who likes it more, Tom or Tommy.

Tom is currently playing with it.

Merry Christmas!

Pictures to follow tomorrow with full update.

(Must check dinner. Must not BURN dinner. Have burned many many dinners and have set off many many fire alarms.)

Shaving is Over

That's it.

I've had it.

I have officially given up on shaving my legs.

I tried to shave in the shower. That didn't work. Gravity wanted me to keel over as I bent down over my swollen belly to attempt to shave my legs.

It didn't work well.

So then I decided that I'd try a bath.

Ha.

Try leaning over a mini mountain and see how far you get.

By the time I was finished I was annoyed but slightly less hairy.

Though it's like I have freckles only instead of freckles they're patches of long hair in various places of my legs. The places that I was unable to reach.

I marched downstairs and told Tom, "Sorry, you're going to have a hairy wife for awhile," and told him the story.

He says he doesn't care.

I suppose I could ask him to shave me but that will turn him on and then I'll have to swat him away.

I'm slightly embarrassed on being seen by the doctor in my hairy condition but you know what, I'm sure they've seen worse. If they're even paying attention to my legs to begin with. Which I hope they aren't because hello, you're supposed to be checking the status of my cervix, not how much hair that is on my legs.

Of course then I start to worry about doctor gossip and my doctor saying behind a cupped hand, "My patient reminds me of a Yeti."

Hello.

I'm Amber and I'm a Yeti.

Or a Big Foot.

Or, as my son told me when he saw some of my hair, "Mommy is Chewbacca!"

*Growl*

Weather Cursed

I'm sorry Wyoming.

I'm sorry Colorado.

But I fear I must admit that I am weather cursed.

Cold weather cursed, to be more precise.

Every single place that I go to, something cold weather related occurs.

When we got to Nebraska I believe there was a terrible storm.

When we got to England it was the wettest summer that they've ever had.

And now, Wyoming.

When we first got here the wind was horrible.

Come to find out people continued to say, "This is the worst it's been all year."

Hmm.

I wonder why.

Then this blizzard occured.

The worst in years.

I believe it's only the third time that the airport in Denver has been shut down.

Thanks to me.

Sorry.

I don't get it, but I just must not ever deserve to live in a place with warm weather. And if I do get to a place with warm weather, well, watch the temperatures suddenly drop.

The blizzard did get pretty bad.

Luckily we didn't go anywhere but some people were stuck on the roads, the airports, stores, workplaces..

Thank goodness they let Tom off early.

Huge piles of snow sat outside our front door last night.

Tom was able to shovel most of it this morning. But we cannot back the truck out because the mounds of snow behind it are too high.

So we're stuck.

Tommy had a doctor's appointment tonight at 6 but I-25 is still closed and we can't get out of our driveway so I had to cancel. (The appointment was just for his ADHD medication.)

It's 3 in the afternoon now and the mound behind the truck is still there. We're not even sure how the other roads are but highways are still shut down so I imagine it's pretty bad.

Tom was given today off as well. Then he has tomorrow off, because it was a down day to begin with, and obviously Monday since it's Christmas.

Too much snow!

Tommy is all, "I want to play outside."

Hah, the wind is still blowing a little bit, I'm not going out there.

Right now the sun is out so Tom and I are hoping it melts that mound behind the truck. Tom can't even dig into it, it's just too much. He helped the person across the street get out because they tried to back out into it and got stuck.

It's best to just stay put.

We probably won't be going out tomorrow either.

Saturday is when Tommy's appointment was rescheduled so we're hoping the roads will be better then.

It's just crazy.

And people are on the news moaning that they still have to buy Christmas presents.

Yeah we're avoiding Wal-Mart and Target over the weekend for sure.

School and Snow

So Tommy started school today.

He goes in the afternoons Monday-Thursday.

Only this week he only goes Monday and Tuesday because then they go on Christmas break until January.

He was thrilled to be going to school. He's been asking ever since we got here when he'd be going to school.

"Please Mommy I want to go to school," he'd beg, clasping his hands in front of him.

We were told by several people on the base that this particular school was a good one. It deals with children with speech delays, sensory processing disorder, autism, ADHD, mental retardation...regular developing children also go there. It's free, so long as you don't make too much money. Which we don't.

Anyhow Tommy got in because of his speech delay, sensory processing disorder and ADHD. He'll have speech and occupational therapists working with him.

We toured the school and it looked like a good one. Tommy's teachers seemed friendly and I got an overall good feeling about the school.

(He's going off base because this base doesn't have a preschool.)

A bus comes and picks him up. Not a huge bus but one of those small ones because after all, it's preschool. He woke up this morning and went, "I go to school today?" He grabbed his backpack that he picked out (a Cars backpack of course) and asked if we were going now.

"Not yet honey. Let's eat some breakfast and get dressed."

Tommy didn't eat much breakfast. I think he was too excited. He was bouncing around and after each bite of waffle he'd go, "I'm all done, Mommy. Time to go to school?" He'd look at me hopefully and I'd have to tell him no, not yet.

He was waiting in front of the door thirty minutes before the bus was due to arrive. He was just ready.

When the bus came I walked him out and a woman stepped out to greet him. She squatted to his level and asked how he was doing and then led him on the bus.

"Bye bye, Tommy. Mommy will be waiting for you," I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He didn't even CARE. He just went, "Bye!" and happily climbed onto the bus.

Okay then.

I waved until the bus was out of sight and then came back inside to a quiet house.

It's weird.

Then Tom came home from training and took me out to lunch.

We went to Perkins, which is like Dennys. They serve the best muffins. Today I got the chocolate chunk muffin and brought it home for dessert tonight. So good.

Plus it was nice to eat out without worrying about Tommy getting impatient. Because he does. He'll start to fidget and go, "Mommy I want to go home!" We'll try to distract him with crayons and books but he'll usually sigh at us and say, "I want to go home." Then sometimes he'll climb underneath the table and sit there, saying he's in a car.

So yeah, going out without him was pleasant.

Though I still missed him.

He should be home in about an hour so I better get some cleaning done. Vacuuming, to be exact, because vacuum noises freak him out. He loves looking at vacuums when they are off but if they're on he covers his ears and says it's too loud TOO LOUD and runs up to his room. (It's the sensory processing thing..)

Gone with the Wind

In England you have to deal with rain and a bunch of dreary days.

In Wyoming you have to deal with the wind.

And lots of it.

I'm not talking about little gusts either. I'm talking huge-knock-you-over gusts.

It's almost pointless to do your hair because once you step outside it's messed up. Unless you cake it with hairspray, which I don't. So usually I'm walking around stores with a rat's nest on top of my head thanks to the wind.

Thank goodness I'm not like one of those women who have to look perfect all the time. I'd be in trouble then.

I was walking to the mailbox the other night to drop off my Netflix (I am loving how fast it is in the States--takes two days!) and I was nearly blown to the side. I had my head down and was battling the wind and WHOOSH--I was moved a couple of feet to the side.

"Darn you wind," I muttered. "I will make it to my mailbox."

And I did.

Barely.

Then the wind pushed me back inside the house. I burst through the front door and nearly smacked the wall.

The wind has nearly blown away my kid twice. We were outside ready to go somewhere (Wal-Mart) and a huge gust suddenly appeared and I saw Tommy start to be pushed away from the truck.

"AHHH MOMMY!" he screamed as his little feet sped up underneath him.

Of course my Mommy instincts kicked in and I rushed over and scooped him up.

"Mommy what is it?" Tommy asked, concerned.

"That's the wind."

Now whenever he hears the wind blowing outside he'll go, "Darn wind!"

Darn wind, indeed.

The Joy of Wal-Mart

So Tom and I have been going to Wal-Mart.

A lot.

In fact I think most of his paycheck has gone to Wal-Mart.

Hello. We're Amber and Tom and we're addicted to Wal-Mart.

It's just we can't believe we have so many choices that are neatly contained in one store that only takes about ten minutes to get to. In England there weren't many choices; most of the things we couldn't find we'd have to order online. And that was only if they shipped to England. Sure we could have shopped in English stores, but really, there weren't any good stores around us and plus the exchange rate was horrible. So we'd be paying double for whatever we bought off base which was why we mainly stuck to the BX and the BXtra.

Now we're all, "BX what??" Because the BX on this base is crap. Because they know they have a Wal-Mart right there.

Oh the things that we've bought at Wal-Mart aren't fun things though. No, we had to get a microwave, a toaster, a trash can, an iron, an ironing board, curtains, etc...and still, we were amazed at all the choices. In England you had maybe three choices. Four if you were lucky. Now we wander down aisles in awe.

Of course Tom still rushes me. I was staring at all the curtain choices and he cleared his throat and asked if I had picked a style out yet.

"I'm just looking," I said.

"But the people..." Tom trailed off, staring at all the other Wal-Mart shoppers with distain. He truly believes that when he enters a store, all other customers should leave so he can shop in peace.

He doesn't understand my need to go down the food aisles either. We mainly shop at the commissary on the base since things tend to be cheaper--but this commissary doesn't offer a whole lot. At Wal-Mart there is an entire row of desserts and I love to wander down that said row, mouth slightly open in shock of all the different flavors of fruit bars, chocolate bars, ice cream..

But there is one problem with the Wal-Mart:

The bathrooms.

Because I'm pregnant, I feel the urge to pee every five minutes.

This urge turns to panic which leads to me doing my pee dance, which basically is me bouncing around, legs crossed while uttering, "Gotta go pee, gotta go pee," over and over.

I went to use the bathroom in Wal-Mart and was disgusted.

The first bathroom I walked into had a pubic hair on the toilet seat.

A PUBIC HAIR.

Brown and curly and sitting there on the toilet seat.

I nearly gagged.

I suppose I could have taken some toilet paper and brushed it off but ew, there was a PUBIC HAIR sitting there.

So into the next stall I went.

There I found a piece of poop staring back up at me and I quickly backed out of there.

The other stall had a USED tampon sticking out of the small trash can.

The final stall was the handicapped one and I thankfully didn't find any problems there.

Though I still refused to place my butt on the seat. I did the lift my rear over the bowl thing.

When I finally finished Tom asked if I had fallen in or something.

"You wouldn't BELIEVE the state of the bathroom!" I exclaimed.

"Actually I can. I use the men's bathroom, remember, and we're pigs," he said with a nod.

True that.

Holy Crap!

Holy crap!

Seriously.

Holy CRAP.

Our stuff came in two days ago. The rest of it. And wow, all I can say is holy crap.

But here's the funny part: even though I know it's crap I can't seem to part with it. Those size 3 pants that I used to fit into in high school and probably never ever will again? Yup, I've gotta safe those. And a pile of another old clothes that I'll probably never wear? I can't throw those away either because suppose I get an urge to put on my Rolling Stones t-shirt?

I have problems, I know, but I'm not like an unhealthy pack rat that you see on Dr. Phil will boxes everywhere in the house.

No, thanks to our garage, all my boxes are sitting out there.

I did tell Tom we'd have a garage sale during the summer. Then I'll go through the boxes and decide what I can sell. Because Tom is all, "Amber let's just dump these out and give them to the Salvation Army," and I'm all, "But my STUFF, Tom, my STUFF!" Then of course I feel guilty, because there could be a kid walking around naked and I have all these clothes in my garage just sitting there and I mutter to myself that I'm a selfish selfish girl and surely I can part with old clothes...but then the other part jumps in and she's all, "But they're MINE!"

Hello. My name is Amber and I suffer from TMC. (Too much crap.)

I also need to go through Tommy's old clothes. We have boxes and boxes of those too. In fact when the movers were bringing in the boxes I heard one mutter, "MORE clothes? Jesus.."

He sounded like my husband, really. Tom says the same thing whenever I buy more clothes whether it be for myself or Tommy. He'll stare at the bag and groan and say, "MORE clothes?" and then I'll leap into my whole tirade of how they were on sale ("75% off Tom, you can't beat that!") and he'll give a sigh and roll his eyes.

The movers were also shocked on how many toys Tommy had. There were boxes and boxes of those too.

"You're a lucky kid," one told Tommy and Tommy just nodded and asked about the vacuum.

The VACUUM.

He has a room full of toys and he keeps asking me, "Where did the vacuum go?"

That's one of his quirks. The kid is obsessed with vacuums, which makes teachers want to quickly label him as autistic because it's not a normal thing to be obsessed over. But what do they know? Maybe he'll be a vacuum salesman...

Anyhow.

We have the living room cleared out for the most part. The computer is up and running and our entertainment center is ready. The kitchen is unpacked but the laundry room is currently a death trap because there are boxes in there too.

Oh and the dining room is okay, save for a few boxes that are filled with, you guessed it, more crap.

Upstairs, hah.

Looks like a tornado has gone through it.

And I feel useless because I can't lift boxes, which drives me insane because I'm a lifter. Even if the box is heavy I'll deal with it. But I can't right now because I don't want Natalie to come spitting out from between my legs. So I have to ask Tom to do everything and I know he's tired and all and I'm frustrated because I just want to grab some boxes and ORGANIZE because I feel like I'm losing my mind.

Tomorrow our Internet is being hooked up.

(Still bumming from someone else, thanks to whoever you are.)

Then I can get some pictures uploaded so you can see our home and Tom's beloved truck.

Right now I need to go unpack.

Will I ever be finished unpacking??

And how will I cope with Natalie coming and buying too many GIRL clothes?

Where will all HER clothes go?

Oy.

Oh and yesterday Tom and I celebrated our five year anniversary. I nearly forgot. I was in the middle of (you guessed it) unpacking and Tom went, "Come here," and patted his knee. I was irritated because HELLO, did he not see I was busy?? Still I paused and plopped on his knee and he kissed my lips and asked where I wanted to eat for lunch.

"Man, do you realize how much money we've been spending?? You know I get nervous when our account dips too low and you want to go out to EAT?" I shrieked.

"I figured we should celebrate..."

"Celebrate WHAT?" Then I remembered but pretended to play it off. "Oh yes our anniversary. Happy Anniversary!" I chirped.

"You forgot."

"I didn't."

"Look me in the eye and say you didn't forget."

"I didn't forget."

"See, you're smirking. You forgot!"

"I didn't forget!" (Though I did, briefly.)

We ended up going to Texas Roadhouse.

And Tom got some WW2 gun thing (fake of course) and I got Sims 2 Pets.

Yay!

Though goodness knows when I'll get to play it.

Because, HOLY CRAP!

The New Baby

So, if you were to ask Tom about his baby he'd probably automatically say, "Yeah, my truck is a beauty.." leaving the person baffled.

Because guess what, Tom has his truck.

I do have pictures, and I promise, I'll post them as soon as our regular computer is set up with the Internet.

It's this dark red huge thing that I will never drive.

Tom, he's in love. With his truck. Just the other day he said, "Isn't my truck the prettiest thing you've ever seen?"

I cleared my throat.

He said bless you.

I cleared my throat again, louder and he realized what I was doing.

"Oh of course you're prettier," he said quickly in a way that I didn't quite believe him.

I took Tommy by the hand and lead him over to Tom, who was still gazing at his truck in awe.

"Tom, isn't your own son better looking that a silly old truck?" I rested my hand on Tom of Tommy's golden hair and Tom peeled his eyes away from his beloved for a few seconds.

"Huh? Oh of course he is." He bent down to Tommy's level. "You are a great looking kid but son..what do you think about Daddy's truck??"

Tommy stared at the truck and went, "Oooo big truck. Daddy's truck."

"And we're going to keep it neat and clean, right?" Tom continued in a stern tone. "No food allowed to be eaten in my truck. This will not be like the PT Cruiser where I find stale fries everywhere. My truck is a food free zone."

Okay then.

We've gone for a few drives in it. I managed to hoist myself up by gripping onto the handle on the passenger seat. It wasn't easy at first, I probably looked like a retarded monkey as I hung on for dear life and attempted to hoist myself into the seat.

"Poor sweetheart!" Tom said and rushed over to help.

I wasn't sure who he was talking to.

(Was he worried about his wife, who is with child with his first and only daughter? Or was he worried that I was gripping his precious truck too hard?? This I will never know..)

Tommy needs help getting in. When Tom showed him where he was to sit Tommy gazed at his booster seat from the ground with wide eyes.

"Daddy..it's too big!" he complained, trying to jump up.

As we drove along Tom noticed the stares from other people driving by.

"Oh yeah..checking out my truck," Tom said proudly.

Seriously though, a lot of people (men) have approached Tom and asked him about it.

Even the neighbor popped out and was all, "Dude, I'm in love with your truck.."

I half expected Tom to say, "Me too dude. Me too.."

The Wyoming Entry

**Here's the entry on coming to Wyoming. Obviously everything worked out for the house and for Tom's truck. Oh and guess what, our stuff came today! There are boxes everywhere, help!! And Tom is busy putting together Tommy's bed and I keep hearing crashes coming from upstairs, followed by loud cursing. (I just heard, "Son of a BITCH bed, you WILL go together!" followed by another crash.)

Well, I'm here.

In Wyoming.

It wasn't an easy trip. First we realized our airplane was one of those ExpressJets, and let me tell you, those things are cramped. It didn't help that we left 30 minutes later than scheduled.

By the time that we landed we were an hour later than planned.

Which wouldn't have been so bad if we didn't have a shuttle to catch.

Of course we missed that shuttle. We got there at 1140 and were told that the shuttle left at 1120 and the next one wouldn't arrive until 220.

I cried.

Tom looked a little surprised as he paid for our shuttle tickets and then brought me to his chest.

"It'll be okay. Really," he kept saying.

"But I just want to lay down!" I sobbed.

We were stuck at the Denver airport for three hours.

We decided to get something to eat.

And then we just sat at a table for the rest of the time. Let me also point out that we were lugging three suitcases, three big carry ons, and a cranky four year old who continued to ask, "Where's the bus?"

Three suitcases you ask?

Well, hah, it turns out two suitcases weren't working for us. Mine was overstuffed, Tom's was close to being overstuffed...then his Mom suggested using another suitcase and Tom huffed and puffed at first: "If Amber didn't buy so much STUFF..." but then realized it was the right choice.

We probably looked like bag people in the airport. Tom lugged most of the stuff on one of those airport carts with my carry on strapped to his back while I pushed Tommy along and delt with the other suitcase.

Finally it was time for the shuttle which thankfully arrived on time.

We had to transfer at Ft. Collins. I kept my eyes peeled out for the stores that were supposed to be there but couldn't see any. (Kohls, Toys R Us, Golden Corral and several others are around..)

We got on a smaller bus that would take us to Cheyenne.

And people weren't kidding when they said there wasn't much along that route.

It was pretty barren.

We were dropped off at a hotel just outside the base and our sponsor was waiting for us.

She drove us to the base--still wasn't much to see--and then showed us briefly around the base.

As we drove through the base there was an antelope on the side of the road eating.

Hrm, I don't think we're in England anymore.

Tom went to the hotel to get our room keys--only to find out that we didn't have a reservation even though he had called two weeks before to confirm.

D'OH.

Thankfully they had a room. A proper TLF room. In England we were given one basic room and it was pure hell.

Right now I'm proud to say that we're in a two bedroom TLF complete with a living room and kitchen. Oh and wireless internet.

Our sponsor also took us to Wal-Mart last night to pick up some food. It made me feel better to see actual stores. There was also a Target, a Chilis, an IHOP, a China Buffet and several other places along the strip--and it only was about 10 minutes from the base.

Problem is, we don't have a vehicle at the moment.

Tom's truck is in Casper, which is three hours away from the base.

It's been rumored that someone from his squadron will take him to pick up the truck this week.

I hope.

Tom hopes.

He's all, "I want my truck!"

I'm all, "I want a house!"

And speaking of that, we should be able to drop by housing tomorrow and figure out when we'll get one.

(Please be three bedroom! The military likes to shove families into two bedrooms until one of the children is six--then you're allowed to get an extra room. However, when I phoned housing they did say that if a three bedroom was available, that we'd get it.)

I just want a house again.

Oh and yes it's cold here. This morning we walked to the BX and Commissary and I was thankful for the new coat I bought.

Right now I'm trying to figure out what service we want to use when we do get a house. Apparently Qwest and a place called Bresnan are the two best ones to use for TV, phone and DSL.

We'll learn more about the base tomorrow. Tom checks in and I'm sure he'll be given a folder of information.

At least we're "home."

Here I Am!

*Waves*

So I'm standing here in the new house.

Totally bumming someone's wireless internet.

(Bad me.)

But I'm not downloading anything so it's all good.

Our Internet will be set up on Tuesday at least.

I have a more detailed entry on the trip over to Wyoming but I'm currently logged into Tom's account on the computer so it's not there. Eventually I'll post that--probably tomorrow.

Right now we're waiting for our Hold Baggage to come in. Oh, and our new bed. I let Tom pick that out because he always complains that he can't sleep at night.

My crock pot is in hold baggage! I missed it. Tom is all, "You missed your CROCK POT???"

Er. Yes.

Tom should be getting his new truck in tomorrow. Let me tell you, that was a hassle and a half. I won't go into details because it seems everything has worked out. Finally. But he's excited about it and I'm just wondering how the heck I'm supposed to leap my pregnant self into it.

(Tom says he'll lift me. But he doesn't realize that I'm all baby and baby is quite heavy. So picture Tom grunted and panting as he lifts me into his precious truck while I'm all, "Ahh don't drop me!")

When will the rest of our stuff be here? I have no clue. We were told the middle of December.

Where are we going to put all of it?

I don't know.

This house does have a garage and a small laundry room. But I suffer from TMC.

(Too much crap.)

I can't help it, it's very hard for me to throw stuff out. Now I can get rid of Tommy's old baby clothes since we're having a boy--but suppose Natalie turns into Nathan?? It's not like we're crapping money or anything. So I'll probably have to wait until after the baby is born unless they do another ultrasound.

I just miss my stuff.

*Sniffs*

I do have pictures of the house. Which I'll post sometime. I just need to put my photo program on the laptop so I don't overwhelm all you diary people with huge oversized pictures.

Lalala.

Tom is bored so I need to get off. I think he may have ADHD too because I notice if nothing entertains him he'll pace around the house, which makes me nervous. Then he starts to talk and talk and talk (like he's doing now) and I just want to shout, "Go READ. Go do SOMETHING!" like I do with Tommy sometimes.

("But I don't like to read. And there's nothing to do but go on the computer and you're on it," was Tom's reply.)

Gah.

Oh and I think we found a school for Tommy. It's called Stride Learning Center and it caters to children with speech delays and other various issues. It's right by the base and if he qualifies (which I'm almost sure he will) it's free. (The base doesn't have a preschool.)

I'm off to read my book then. Because I do like to read, even though I have to park my big butt on the hard floor since we are lacking a couch or chair.

I bought the new Phillipa Gregory book "The Boleyn Inheritance," and I can start that. It was an early Christmas present since it was hardback and $22 bucks and all.

We're also getting the rest of Tommy's presents at Wal-Mart on Saturday.

I just can't believe all the CHOICES I have.

Because if I can't find it at Wal-Mart, Target is right down the road. If I can't find it at Target I can hop online and any place will send stuff to us.

*Dances*

Okay so I'm off because now Tom is just staring at me. He just went, "You make the funniest expressions when you're typing. What are you typing? What all could have happened in the past few days? Are you writing your life story? Are you writing everything I say? Stop that! I hate when you do that, STOP IT..."

Off To Wyoming

Well, we're packing to go.

We leave tomorrow.

(For those who don't know, we're moving to a new base in Wyoming. We were just staying with our family for a month so Tom could take a breather from work and we could get used to the States again. We don't know when we'll get a house in Wyoming, apparently it doesn't take long to get one. We shall see.)

If the weather holds up that is. We heard that Denver was dumped with 20 inches of snow. Denver is where we're flying into. Then we take a shuttle up to Wyoming.

If the shuttle even runs.

See, I can sit around and be patient if I need to. But my kid can't. He wants to run around and then he starts to get loud.

"Please can we go?" he'll ask over and over.

Tom isn't much better at entertaining himself. He'll start to lean over my shoulder and read my magazine like that. Which bugs the ever loving mess out of me. I can't stand when someone reads over my shoulder. It sends shivers up my spine and I can't concentrate.

So please please, keep good weather vibes in your thoughts.

Oh and that we can fit everything into our suitcase.

Mine is already stuffed and I have another load in the wash.

Tom has some spare room but he's giving me problems about using it.

"I TOLD you to pack light!"

Pack light isn't in my vocabulary, I'm sorry.

I hear Tom downstairs whining to his Mom.

"Amber has too much, I TOLD her, now we're running out of space!"

His Mom just said not to worry, that she can mail stuff.

He's still freaking out down there.

That's why I left. He kept snapping at me so I just walked out of the room.

Oh and he found the stash of books I hid in the outer flap of his suitcase. He just shouted out, "STOP PUTTING YOUR STUFF IN MINE!"

Geez.

I'll write when I can in Wyoming. I've no idea if the TLF rooms have internet connection or where the library is.

Gosh, I hope we make it there. I worry about the snow and our plane being delayed.

Gotta go. Tom is still flipping out and Tommy just shouted, "Mommy I scared of LazyTown."

Me too, kid. Me too.