I Caved

Friday night my husband wined me and dined me at a new to us, completely romantic and perfect restaurant. Well, he didn't wine me. He iced tea'd me. I'm pregnant! You know what that means: No drinking...in public. I kid! I kid!

Anyway, after a wonderful dinner which was followed by feeding ducks in the canal 2 feet from our table, he mentioned that one of the only two stores in the state that sell those shoes was just around the corner. Could we go look at them?

You can ask me anything when I'm in such a happy state of mind. Want to use my living room windows as a target for batting practice? Perhaps wipe the mud off of your tires with my white comforter? Go for it! As long as I'm in my happy place, anything can happen.

So we went to check them out. And wouldn't ya know it, Mr. Ordinary pulled the little boy on Christmas morning look when he slipped those funky things on. How could I deny that face?

I caved.

He now owns (and wears all over the friggin' world even though he swore he'd only wear them to go running) a pair of Vibram Fivefingers shoes.

Our 2 year old calls them 'tippy-toe' shoes and Mr. Ordinary's buddies told him it looked like he had painted his feet.

But he is happy and his boo boo-ed knees won't hurt so much when he runs. And I really truly want to be someone who doesn't care what others think when they're just trying to do the right thing. Lordy, that's hard to do sometimes.

Apparently, this is my test.

Mr Ordinary also says that they are so darn comfortable that I'll most likely end up getting a pair. He predicts that they are the new Crocs. Hey, I thought Crocs were God awful ugly at first too. And now I own 2 pairs. I guess we'll see...

Vapors of Memories

Stepping out of the grocery store last night, I smelled a familiar scent in the air and wonderful memories came streaming back.

What was the scent? Well, it was car exhaust fumes. And what memories do I speak of? Memories of the little escapes in Basic Training. And, yes, one of the little things that provided a tiny escape from the constant physical activity, gun cleaning and 'Yes, Drill Sergeant's was the wonderful smell of exhaust fumes.

You may know a little of what military training is like from movies or TV shows, but no one truly knows unless you've been there. You are 100% cut off from the real world. There is no radio, no TV, no phone calls (for the first few weeks anyway) and definitely no computer.

No caffeinated beverages, no dessert, no smoking, no talking with someone of the opposite sex unless it had to do with completing a mission, no breaks, no choices.

But beyond that there were no wheels, only feet. We marched everywhere, rain or shine, 100 degrees or bitter cold, near or far. We might see a car occasionally in the distance down the road. And my friend McCoy, who was lucky enough to have family close-by, saw her parents car drive by each Sunday w/hands sneakily waving from inside the windows.

On a very rare occasion, we were loaded into old buses to be transported to the range for weapons training or dropped somewhere in the middle of nowhere for a fun little camp-out.

We would stand there, in a silent formation with our rifles slung over our shoulders, camo caked on our faces and heavy, heavy packs on our backs waiting for the command to board the bus. Yes, there was a command for boarding the buses. Just like there was a command for getting into our bunks each night. And a command for drinking water.

Anyway, as we stood there never quite knowing what laid ahead, we breathed in the exhaust from the old buses and if I closed my eyes tightly enough and managed to drown out the yells from the Drill Sergeants, I was for a short moment back home in Indy cruising The Circle with my friends looking for hot guys.

Of course, then I was snapped back to the real world by one of my battle buddies bumping into my rucksack and shoving me onto the bus.

So now when I get a nose full of that familiar smell, I remember when all we had were the little things. And how sometimes those little things were all you really needed to push you just a little further toward accomplishing your goal.

Three White Dots

In case you've missed my tweets and a few random mentions around here, Mr. Ordinary and I are proud to announce we are having a girl!

No clue why we decided to find out this time around but I'm pretty sure I freaked the ultrasound tech out when she told us. First of all, after our litle wiggle worm finally let her get a good shot of her bits, the tech typed "girl parts!!!" on the screen.

My eyes were already teary from seeing such sweet little views of baby feet and a healthy heart and an adorably clear profile. And I also hadn't worn my glasses that day because they are all either scratched or bent crooked courtesy of a house full of little boys. So when the words appeared ont he screen and she turned to me waiting for a reaction I said, "What? What does it say?" I wa just figured it was soemthing along the lines of "right ovary" or "4 chamber heart", you know the ususal ultrasound typings.

I'm pretty sure the tech thinks I'm illiterate.

Then my husband informed me we were having a girl and insanity ensued. I began to do my silent laugh which looks much more like a violent seizure than laughing of any sort. The US wand was still on my belly and began to bounce all over the place. Then the tears started to flow and the only noise I could summon was a series of "Ohhhhh"s. The tech forced a smile, but you could tell she wasn't quite sure what was going on.

She finally asked if I was excited. I told her yes and that I just never believed it would happen. I mean after 3 boys, I seriously didn't think my husband had any girly sperm in him.

And now? Let the shopping begin, right?? Nope, not exactly. Now that I know I'm having a girl a 5000 pound weight has been placed on my shoulders to find the perfect dress for her. And nothing is measuring up.

So here's what we're going to do: You get to buy the clothes for me. Feel free to head over to pinkandblue.com, cause they have some adorable stuff! Or you know, go wherever you want. Just do the shopping for me and then I'll be just fine!