A babystep for you is a giant leap for me

Today, for the first time in my life, I changed the air filter on my F-150.  This is the first time I have changed anything on any vehicle I have ever owned (and trust me, I run through vehicles like toilet paper).  This momentous occasion came about from getting my oil changed today and seeing how filthy my air filter was.  I called my husband and asked him if he could change it when he returned from his hunting trip (he's a manly man!).  I then discovered he wasn't returning until really late tonight.  Panic seized my body (not really, but it makes my story WAY more exciting!).  I instantly thought of the nasty air I would be breathing in during my road trip to PCB tomorrow and knew it must changed.  I went to the auto parts store and purchased an air filter.  I then proceeded to change my air filter, much to the amusement of neighbors.  I'm sure they were staring out their windows and pointing and laughing at the woman intensely staring into her truck manual and then back into her truck, gripping the air filter for dear life as she pictures herself undoing a bolt and the entire engine falling out of the bottom (my mind is a scary place).  However, the aforementioned did not occur.  My truck survived my attempt to change the air filter and now I feel like I am Super Woman.  I am self sufficient, well, at least until its time to get something out of the attic (that's what husband's are for, that place is SCARY!)

TA-50 should refer to the amount of army crap in my house

Oh TA-50, how I love thee.  NOT!!!  We have devoted an entire closet to my husband's TA-50.  8 bags packed to the brim, stacked on top of each other, filling every nook and cranny of a closet in my house.  A closet wasted on gear that is used probably 5 times a year for field problems and when he is deployed.  I hate the space it wastes.  It also never seems to stay organized either.  The other night, my husband needed his pro mask (gas mask) for some inspection.  Of course, he could not find it (big surprise!!!).  While he was in a searching daze/rage he completely missed my advice to search the box at the top of the closet.  He then gave up.  I immediately open the closet, pull down the box at the top of the closet and ta-da!  pro mask is found!  I did my best touchdown dance into the bedroom, threw the pro mask at my husband and reminded him how awesome I am and how he is so lucky to have a woman as amazing as me to put up with him.  He then bowed down to my awesomeness and pledged his undying love for me (okay, anyone who knows me, knows that last part was totally in my mind).

It's a Ford fool... get out the way!

I have a truck.  I big truck.  An F-150 Super Cab to be precise.  Its my baby.  Mess with my truck and die.  I am also on the shorter side (almost 5'5").  My truck feeds my Napoleon syndrome.  When I am driving my baby down the road I feel invincible.  I pretend I am Jeff Gordon (pretentiousness included) and I race other trucks (mostly in my mind, the other drivers just think I'm crazy usually).  Saturday the husband and I went to Savannah with the children.  On our way home, some dumb college student (dressed like a hobo wanna be) lightly tapped our bumper.  I immediately turned into a nut job and was about to pounce on this guy like a ravenous lioness on a weak antelope in the Serengeti.  If it weren't for my wonderful husband holding me back, I'm pretty sure I would have been thrown in the Chatam County Jail.  Don't worry, my truck is just fine.  I on the other hand, am still crazy :)

A Bachelor's Degree is a Necessity as an Army Wife... or a Really Good Spell Check.

I was enjoying a blissful slumber this morning, dreaming of having cinnamon rolls presented to me in bed, when I was tapped on the shoulder by my loving husband, "Babe, can you look over my counseling statements?"  Yes, all of those college papers and english classes were to prepare me for this moment, to ensure that my husband's soldiers were going to read a grammatically correct counseling statement (because they really care).  Thank you General Studies Bachelor's Degree! (but you can take your debt and shove it)

my addictions :)

I have 2 addictions... cloth diapers and "Keeping up with the Kardashians"... and wine... and chocolate... and ice cream... okay so I have a lot more than 2 addictions... but I'll only cover 1 right now :)

I love cloth diapers.  I love my flips diapers... it's more than wonderfully absorbent layers of microfiber and covers of PUL that could be related to Superman.  They save me money, they save my sanity, and they are CUTE!!!  I have anywhere from 30-35 diapers and I want more.  Eric has threatened to hide the credit cards a couple times (but then he quickly realizes the bills won't get paid and hands them back over... he knows his place).  Yes, dealing with poopy cloth diapers isn't fun, but having to touch poop about once or twice a day is worth the $60+ a month I am saving.  I love washing them... its like a game, trying to figure out the number of rinses it takes to get the soap out... I love hanging them out to dry in the warm Georgia sun on my clothes line.  Ask any other cloth diapering momma, its more addicting than crack (not that I know what crack is like... just want to put that disclaimer out there before someone starts spouting off at the mouth that I'm a crack head and rumors get spread around town... it is a military town).

Idiot drivers... i know, typical rant...

But seriously, does anyone wonder if they made mandatory driving tests every 5 years or so, would people pass them?  My husband and I were at the mall yesterday and people were stopping where there were no stop signs! There is a reason why there isn't a stop sign for the people driving into the mall, so there won't be a blockade of cars on the main road.  

Ok, so this rant is pretty short and wee bit lame, but give me a break, i'm  just starting out with this.  Trust me, it will get better.  I'm sure I will find something that my husband or 3 year old didn't clean up and i'll get pissed off and post again.