Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Screw you WED


   The harder I try to force myself to think positive, and remain optimistic… the inner pessimist in me is somehow sabotaging my days to prove to me it’s way easier to just accept that I am way better at being negative. I honestly don’t think this is possible, just my luck of the draw of course. However, my bad day today does humorously coincide with the goal I recently set to start being more positive.  I should start with the side bar, I love Halloween. I love love it! To me it’s so fun to dress up, eat candy like a mad person without any one staring at you, and it is a fun and funky way to kick off the Holidays. It’s the introduction to the Holidays. However, with Jesse gone this year I in all my cheapness thought I’d play it really low key. I didn’t want to spend a whole lot of the kids’ costumes, and I definitely didn’t want to spend anything on mine if I could avoid it. I knew that come Halloween day, with two toddlers, trick or treating with a thousand things going on around them and dangerously flirting with dinner time and bedtime time range; I’d be pushing my luck to say we’d all last all two hours allotted for trick or treating here on post.  However, with the combo of Jesse saying “it’s about having fun right? You want the kids to enjoy Halloween right? Don’t be cheap for once and just enjoy yourselves…get the costume you want and get what you need to make it fun”  and that weird guilt I have that I must make this Halloween extra awesome because it’ll somehow make the kids forget Daddy isn’t with us. So I bought the costume I wanted. I’ve wanted to dress up as a 1950s June Clever looking housewife for years now…and I ordered it online. I bought the wig, the accessories everything. I thought for once I’m spending more than I’d ever want to but I’m shutting down my cheapness and just doing it. When the first of my costume arrived today…the wig…I cringed. I half wanted to scream, and half wished I could call up my DH and say “this p.o.s wig is why I am cheap, what a waste”. But instead I looked to see if I could return it (no can do). Then started to brain storm how I could fix it …maybe hot roll it, maybe brush it out and curl it with a curling iron (I’m posting pics of what it looks like advertised and what I really got). Then I concluded the whole reason I got it was to embrace the costume, to truly look 1950s without sitting all day Monday teasing my hair , curling it and rocking rollers…but if I’m gonna do it to a wig, why not my own hair?? There’s money wasted I was reluctant to spend! This started my day on a down ward spiral.  After stepping outside I also realized I can’t just hope it’s going to be decent weather I need to prepare for the worse. B isn’t going to last all but 5 mins in her little devil leotard/tutu outfit if I don’t find something to layer under it. So I call Target…the dance leotards for B’s size that are long-sleeved are sold out. I can order online or shop around. I decided I’d go to the PX grab some tights to go under her leggings and see if I could at least find a long sleeve turtle neck black shirt…seems like an easy order. It was a no go...found tights still no top. Thinking that all was well, just try Wal-Mart or worst case scenario overnight it offline we headed to Starbucks. I should note at this point B is sitting in the cart; nothing is in the cart besides my huge ass Mom purse just sitting underneath her seat in the actual cart. B all the sudden goes exorcist style on me and starts spewing barf ...PROJECTILE!! As I comfort her through the ordeal I’m also cringing because I notice although she turned her head so as not to puke on herself, she has unintentionally managed to get all her vomit into my purse. My options laid out before me.I could grab my purse out of the line of fire, save what remains of my purse and its contents  but get puke on me, possibly her, and the cart etc. OR I can just let it be what it is. I chose the latter. So there B sat staring at me, wondering what’s next. For those of you with kiddos you know that the longer you wait to get to cleaning up puke and comforting your sick child, the more the freak out over the whole incident of having just barfed their body weight. So I got to cleaning. But I realized quickly to get her in the car, clean and warm I had to fish out the keys out of that same purse that minutes ago was her barf bag. As I reached in the bag I got nauseas too (I swear it never happens…this is something I’d expect from Jesse), but I was just so grossed out, hand just soaked in chunks…I barfed. There I was standing outside of the truck, with vomit in my purse, my hair, my hands and now more puke to wash away. I was so overwhelmed I had word vomit(no pun intended..) and just blurted “S!@# this really sucks” just as a I said that a soldier walks by and smirks and stares as he walks away and I couldn’t decide at that moment if I was mad or embarrassed more. After emptying what seems like ever half drank sippy in the truck (thank goodness the kids drink water 95% of the time) on all the barf around our truck and fishing out the essentials from my purse (before tossing it in the trash) we were headed home. I started the truck and for a brief moment had a pity party break down sitting there in the parking lot. I haven’t had too many of these this deployment (not really my style) but I did today. I just sat there for a moment and cried. Now it looks like I’ll be lucky if one or all of us don’t have the flu on Monday. We didn’t make any progress in fixing the cold weather dilemma for B’s costume, and the first time I invested money into a Halloween costumes for the family is turning out to be a total bust. So I felt sorry for myself for 5 minutes, and then realized we got a sick baby to take care of…and life goes on. But I couldn’t help but say…oh balls…sometimes being positive just sucks!
 WTF...I'd look almost as ridiculous as the pumpkin...what a hot mess this wig is!!
The pictures looks badass though...cuz Lord knows I can't do that to my hair, but I sure did want it to look like this:(!

No comments:

Post a Comment