The whirlwind of visitors continues.  My folks came out last weekend for a few days.  They let us know beforehand that they weren't coming out to do any sight-seeing.  They were coming out to see us and help us out with some home projects.  We took them up on their generous offer and ended up getting a couple of major projects completed, including getting the garden cleaned up and installing flooring in the rafters of the garage so we could have some more storage.

Zac, enjoying the manual labor of busting apart palettes.

The succulents and cacti across from our driveway.

It looks so nice now that it's cleaned up.  Before it was overrun with weeds and grass.

Dad and Zac, working hard on getting some boards ready for the garage rafters.

 When I haven't been busy playing Hostess With the Most-est, I've found some time to be crafty and have some fun.  Since Zac is obsessed with his garden, I decided that we should have something to identify all of his plants.  The people who sold us the house left a box of white ceramic tiles in the garage that I decided would be kind of cool for the task.  I took out some of my acrylic paints and painted on some of the vegetables that Zac has growing in the garden.  I'm not an artist - I don't pretend to be.  I am someone who finds clip art of vegetables online and tries to replicate them the best I can.  Yes, your six-year-old could probably do better.  

Just finished painting them.

After I was done painting them, I let them dry and then used a Sharpie to write what they were, just in case people couldn't tell what they were.  Because, like I mentioned, I'm not a great artist and honestly, a cucumber looks a lot like a zucchini.  Once I had that done, I used some spray sealant I bought at Michaels to protect them.  Hopefully that will keep them nice for at least one season in the garden.  Zac likes them.  I like them too.

And here are my latest crocheting creations.  When we were in a craft store the other day Zac found a book with all sorts of crocheted critters.  (Yes, Zac found it.  Occasionally he'll accompany me to Michael's or Joann Fabric.  He's a good man.)  I made an elephant as well, but that was given to a friend as a present for their new baby.  I'm particularly obsessed with the hippo at the moment.  After I made the one in this photo, I made another one where I modified the pattern to make the hippo fatter.  Who wants a skinny hippo?  Hippos, while vicious and lethal in real life, are cute and pudgy in Stuffed Animal Land.  So from now on my hippos will be heftier around the middle.  

A seal, a hippo and a gator.  

The other big news around here is that on Saturday Claudia and her husband PCSed to San Diego from Hawaii.  They'll be staying with us for the foreseeable future.  (And their two dogs.)  They would like to buy a house, but that process can take awhile.  Zac and I busted our butts trying to find a house and it took us three months before we had keys in our hands.  (We know how lucky we were to get into something that fast.)  I think Claudia and her husband are considering moving into military housing like we did until they buy a home.  They are welcome to stay with us as long as they want, but I know that it's not always easy living with other people.  They're good friends and, as it goes in the military, we're all in this together and we need to help each other out when we can.  We've offered them our opinions on the house-buying process when they've asked, but we're trying to make sure we don't meddle too much.  It's their journey, their adventure and they will figure out what living situation is right for them.  We just want to be supportive.


It is nice that slowly but surely many of our Hawaii friends are moving to San Diego.  Now if we could only get Bernadette and Ken down here, everything would be perfect.  It's comforting to have our Navy ohana nearby.

Two months???

I can't believe we've had our house for two months already.  On the one hand, I feel like we just moved in, but when I sit back and think about it we are remarkably settled in and well on our way to making this house into our home.  The weekends we haven't had visitors we've been busy with home-owner type projects.  After many days of hard work (and much cursing) Zac has finally got our sprinkler system working.  Hopefully with the newly installed drip lines we'll be able to be water-conscious and still grow some of the vegetables that Zac so desperately wants.  He's a farmer at heart, and he's happiest when he has a garden to tend.  Me?  I get fresh produce out of the deal so he's free to play in the dirt as much as he wants.  I'm more focused on becoming a cactus/succulent propagator extraordinaire.  I've become mildly obsessed with cacti and succulents since moving here.  They come in so many shapes, colors and textures that they just captivate me.  If I was a wealthy woman, I'd have a pretty amazing drought-tolerant garden.


Zac's brother's family visited last weekend.  That included our three-year-old niece and five-year-old nephew.  They're great kids and, all things considered, they were very well-behaved.  Even before Zac and I knew we were moving to San Diego, Zac's brother's family was planning a trip to Disneyland for our niece's birthday.  So after spending two and a half days up at Disneyland and a chill-out day at the beach, Zac's brother's family came down to spend about three days with us.  I don't know about you, but after 2.5 days of Disneyland I figured that my niece and nephew would be totally fried and burnt out from the excitement and over-stimulation.  Let's just say that Zac and I set the bar pretty low in terms of what we were expecting in terms of the behavior of two kids that have had their sleeping and eating patterns severely disrupted for a number of days.  But, like I said, the kids were actually great.  There were a couple of meltdowns, sure, but overall they were a hoot to have around.  They loved our house and our citrus trees and pestered the dogs.  


Poor dogs, they didn't know what to do having the kids hovering around them the whole time. The dogs were great, very patient and accepting with the kids, but I know they were a little relieved when they left.  And poor Toivo, he was referred to as "the stinky one" all weekend, as my niece was having a hard time telling Toivo and Zoe apart.  "Is this the stinky one?" she'd ask sweetly.  "Yes, that's the stinky one," I'd answer.  "I don't like the stinky one," she'd state.  I'm pretty sure Toivo was a little indignant.


We got to see a few more San Diego attractions with Zac's brother's family as well.  We spent one day at SeaWorld and one day at the San Diego Zoo.  Both attractions were a lot of fun, but I'm constantly amazed at how expensive it is to visit some of these attractions.  Zac and I usually get discounted tickets because Zac's active duty military and I'm not sure I'd be willing to visit some of these places if I had to pay full price.  It's fairly ridiculous.  Plus, once you're through the gates, you face spending $15-20 for lunch per person.  Not for anything special, mind you.  You practically need to take out a loan to feed a family of four.


The last full day of their visit was just hanging around the house, trying to get the kids to mellow out a little bit. Zac and his brother worked for hours on the sprinkler system while my sister-in-law and sat in the living room, catching up.  The kids took a much-needed nap and it was a nice, relaxing way to finish their visit.  This weekend is a weekend off and on Friday my folks arrive for a short stint.  Then we have a weekend off, and then Zac's sister is coming to visit.  It's ridiculous how much company we have.  This means we will have had family here every other week for eight weeks. Again, we love our families.  It's just a bit much.  Thankfully my sister is saying that they may not be able to visit until September.  I'm totally okay with that.


We finally are set to have our kitchen remodeled, starting in a few weeks.  I went out the other day to pick out counter tops and back splashes for the new kitchen.  I can not wait until it is completed.  I know it will be a huge improvement over our current kitchen.  I know it will be a pain in the butt cooking-wise while it's being remodeled, but we've got a grill and a microwave so I think we'll make it through just fine.  Zac may be going off to another school in Indiana during some of the work as well, so for part of the time it will be only cooking for one.  I'll have to use great restraint in order to not just go over to the local taco shop every night for dinner.  So easy, so tasty.  I think I should go celebrate Easter with some al pastor tacos.  After all, I never was a Peeps fan . . .

Settled in, first guests already come and gone

I've been meaning to write about our new home since we got the keys last month, but I haven't had a lot of time to sit down and blog.  (Or, when I have had time, I've been to tired to type.)  Our household goods were delivered on February 13th, much to our delight.  It's kind of like Christmas unboxing all of your belongings.  A dusty, overwhelming, half-week-long Christmas.  At first it's exciting and invigorating, but 12 hours into it you start to lose a little steam.  Zac and I knew that we needed to get our house organized, though, as we were having company arrive in about a month.  It was nice that Zac's command gave him a couple days off to unpack.  It really did move along much more quickly having two people working on the project.

Our biggest hurdle was trying to figure out what to do with all of our kitchen stuff.  Our current kitchen doesn't have a lot of storage space and we knew from the time we bought the house that we'd be remodeling the kitchen fairly soon after we moved in.  We ended up bringing about half of our kitchen items into the kitchen and the rest are currently stored in the garage.  Once we get the kitchen remodeled - scheduled completion for mid/late May - we'll be able to move all of our stuff into the kitchen and that will free up some space in the garage to make that space more organized.  It's like one of those puzzles where you only have one free space so you have to move one piece before you can move another piece, and sometimes you need to move multiple pieces to get to the one you want.  The layout of our house (one-story, on a slab) makes me miss basements in Minneapolis.  It's nice to be able to store stuff out of the way and out of sight that you don't use all the time.  I also like being able to store root vegetables and onions in a dark, cooler place.  Ah, basements.  How I miss you.

We've been busy with home projects since we've moved in.  There was a stretch there where we went to Home Depot six days in a row.  One the seventh day we went to Lowe's, just because we needed to mix it up.  Zac was to the point that he felt uncomfortable when he didn't exit the freeway and swing by Home Depot on the way home from work.  It has taken some hard work and long hours, but we've got some of the pressing projects completed.  We've got plenty more to come.  Zac is getting handier by the day, which is fun to watch.  He's become a master at sanding metal things down and spray-painting them (two firepits, our outdoor furniture and a file cabinet).  When we're not working on the house, we're getting to know the neighborhood.  We've successfully found a delicious local taco shop, which was priority #1 for living in San Diego.  So far, being a home-owner rocks.

Like I mentioned above, we had our first house guests in the middle of March - my aunt and uncle from Minnesota.  It was great seeing them.  They have two daughters, around the same age as Megan and I.  We spent a lot of time together growing up.  My family gets together regularly, probably at least once a month, to celebrate birthdays or holidays.  It was a hard adjustment being away from the regular family contact when Zac and I moved to Hawaii.  My aunt and uncle are great people, very cordial and easy-going.  I was a little nervous about hosting them, as I knew they'd report back to my mother about the house, my well-being, etc.  Not that they're spies, but if I know my Mom, she wants to know that everything is going okay.  I know Dad does too, but I think Mom gets a little more antsy about knowing this stuff.   Love you, Mom.  :)

The first two days my aunt and uncle were here it rained.  It was awful.  Welcome to beautiful, sunny, temperate Southern California!  Instead they found a winter storm that dropped inches of rain in a cold 45-40 degrees.  We found activities to keep us entertained indoors and by Monday the weather had cleared to what it should be and we were able to visit some of the local beaches and watch the pelicans and seals hang out.  Tuesday was picture-perfect and we spent the day up at the San Diego Zoo's Safari Park.  One of the great things about having company come to visit is that it forces us to take the time to go see some of the cool attractions that San Diego has to offer.  (And try out restaurants I've been meaning to eat at.)  I prefer checking out places before company arrives so that I have a better understanding of parking, how long it takes to see the attraction, whether it's worth the money, etc., but sometimes it makes a better story to go on the adventure with family or friends for the first visit.

We had last weekend off, but tomorrow brings round two of company.  Zac's brother's family arrives after spending a few days up at Disneyland.  I wonder how our five-year-old nephew and three-year-old niece are doing after all the traveling and excitement.  They're good kids, so I'm sure they'll be fine, but I think I may go rent a couple of kid's movies to have in the house in case they need a decompress-in-our-pajamas-because-of-Mickey-overload day.  Two weeks after that my parents come out for a quick weekend visit and then Zac's sister might come out at the end of April.

Dear family and friends,
I know that many of you don't have each other's e-mails or phone numbers, but if you could telepathically coordinate your visits so that they don't all occur within a two-month window, that would be terrific.  Thanks!
Love always,
Kate

Ok, I'm kidding, but when it rains visitors, it pours visitors.  I suppose most people have time off during the spring, and many people are looking for some warm weather and sunshine this time of year as they're escaping the doldrums of winter.  And since everyone is visiting so soon after we moved to San Diego, hopefully they'll all be able to return in a year or two to see us again before the Navy moves us to someplace new.  And of course we love having people here, because we miss our friends and family.  I'm not sure how much we'll be able to travel now that Zac is on sea duty and will have trainings, schools, and deployments.  So c'mon down to SoCal!  The guestroom is ready!

This story stinks

We moved into our house almost a month ago.  I've got lots of fun little vignettes about being a homeowner that I want to share, but instead I present to you the story of a dog, his owners, and a skunk.

I wish more skunks were focused on romance, rather than causing mayhem.

Last night the weather was quite pleasant so we had the windows and doors open, letting the cool evening air breeze through the house.  Toivo had been outside most of the evening, which isn't unusual.  He spends most evenings outside, dozing in the yard, enjoying all the space he has.  Around 9:30 Zac and I caught a whiff of skunk, which also isn't unusual.  We discovered early on that there are skunks in our neighborhood and every few days when we're out walking the dogs or driving around with the windows down you can catch a nose-full of the joy that is skunk odor.

This time, however, the scent was much stronger than usual, as if it had come from almost right outside the backdoor.  Zac hopped up to see if he could see a skunk and to check on Toivo, to make sure that he hadn't gotten sprayed.  Zac walked through the backyard and came back with a panicked look on his face.  "The gate is open," he said.  "Toivo's gone."  The next few seconds involved Zac grabbing the car keys and flashlights and me grabbing Toivo's collar and leash.  Of course Toivo hadn't had his collar on as he was safe, presumably, in the backyard.

As a side-note, I should mention that Toivo's hearing has deteriorated quite a bit since we've been in San Diego.  It's to the point now that I'm not sure he can hear much of anything.  (Either that or he's mastered the art of totally ignoring Zac and me.)  Also, his eyesight in his one "good" eye is also getting cloudy.  I've noticed that he's increasingly having a tough time maneuvering in low-light settings.  Losing Toivo at night, when his vision and hearing (and probably sense of smell from getting sprayed) are compromised was more than a little frightening.

Zac and I started by walking up and down the block, calling for him.  Of course we both knew that he wouldn't be able to hear us, but somehow walking and looking in silence seemed wrong.  We met our neighbors a few doors down who were out enjoying the weather and a smoke and they said they hadn't seen any dog come by.  They were sitting out with their dog and I knew that had Toivo come this way, he'd have gone up to their dog right away.  Toivo is curious about other animals.  He wants to smell them, and then carry on.  He can't be bothered to play with any of them, mind you.  He just wants to introduce himself.

Our neighbor graciously joined our search party and we all split off into different directions, Zac on foot one way, our neighbors in their car in another. I went back to the house to get Zoe on a leash to bring her with me as we walked in a third direction, hoping that maybe Toivo would respond to her.  Zoe and I walked and walked.  I'm sure people thought I was a prospective burglar, shining my flashlights into yards.  The lots in our neighborhood are relatively large and sometimes heavy with vegetation.  It's not easy to look around, especially at night.  I wasn't confident that we were going to find him. And with a major highway 300 yards from my house, and a side street that people drive way too fast on, I was afraid for Toivo's safety. 

Zoe started to lag behind me, as she often does when we walk further than she likes.  I decided that it was time to get her back to the house.  Then I heard Toivo barking.  Barking that obnoxious, rapid-fire bark that he has when he's spun up about something.  When he does it while I'm working from home, I grit my teeth, but last night it was the best sound in the world.  But I couldn't tell where it was coming from - the sound was bouncing off houses and trees and garages and I couldn't figure it out.  I ran with Zoe down the block, blatantly disregarding people's property rights and darting through yards.  I breathlessly called Zac on my cell and told him to get to the car.

I ran with Zoe back to house to meet Zac at the car and to ditch her.  I just kept hoping that Toivo would keep barking.  "Please keep barking," I begged.  "Just keep barking."  I had Zac drive down the block where I thought Toivo's bark was coming from.  Even with the quiet battery-powerd hybrid, I couldn't hear his barking from inside the vehicle.  I jumped out of the car and started walking.  Nothing.  My heart sank.  I knew Toivo was close.  How could I lose him now?  Then he started barking again, and I started running.  Across one yard, and then another.  I stumbled and rolled my ankle a little as I hit uneven ground in the dark.  And as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw the hind-quarters of a dog sticking out of a pile of firewood as the dog barked his head off at something he had cornered.  Toivo.  Thank god.  I ran up behind him and essentially tackled him.

That's when I realized that yes, indeed, he had been sprayed by a skunk, and in all liklihood that was the critter that he had cornered.  I wasn't going to stick around to find out.  Since I didn't have his leash or his collar and Toivo was fighting me to get back to his quarry, I had to pick Toivo up and carry him back through the yard to the street so I could flag down Zac.  I pinned Toivo between my legs and called Zac on my phone.  As I waited for Zac to come back I realized, "Holy hell, that smell is AWFUL."  Finally Zac came along with the car.  I got the leash and collar from him and we briefly considered putting Toivo in the car to drive him home.  But as soon as Zac got near the dog he nixed that idea.  He started walking home with Toivo.  I was tired and not thinking clearly so I jumped in the car and drove back to the house.  

I stank.  Oh good lord, did I stink.  (The car is still a little ripe from my drive in it.)  I realized my clothes were covered in skunk musk.  I got back to the house ahead of Zac and Toivo and I went into the backyard and made sure all the gates were latched.  Then I stripped down to my undergarments in the garage.  Zac came home, put Toivo in the backyard and started the shower for me.  We had no tomato juice so I just soaped up and hoped for the best, even though I knew that the smell wasn't going away any time soon.  I had Zac get me one of the crummy, old towels to dry myself off.  I didn't want to wreck our decent towels.  I could still smell it, on my hands especially.  Zac didn't want to come near me.  

I looked out at poor Toivo in the backyard.  I suggested that we put him in the garage overnight, since I wasn't sure if the skunk had gotten into the yard when it sprayed (it sure smelled like the skunk was in the yard when he sprayed) and I was worried that Toivo would get hit again.  Zac said, unequivocally, that Toivo would not go in the garage to make everything smell in there and would instead spend the night outside.  I didn't have the energy to argue so Zac and I went to bed, in separate beds.  The smell was, indeed, that bad.

This morning I heard Zac get up and start getting ready for work.  Around 6am Zac rushed down the hall.  "The gate is open.  Toivo's not in the yard."  I jolted up in bed.  What?  "No, no, no," I kept repeating.  I was still clearing the sleep out of my head - the gates were latched last night. I checked.  How could a gate be open?  Did someone open it?  How long had Toivo been gone?  I threw on clothes and walked the same streets that I did the night before, hoping that I'd hear him barking again.  Zac drove around, doing the same.  Nothing.  It was overcast, but the sun was high enough that it was bright out.  I didn't see Toivo anywhere.  I checked the yard where I had found him the night before.  Nothing.

Lighting doesn't strike twice.  At some point your luck runs out.  This was that morning, I knew it in my gut.  We had managed to find Toivo the previous night, but the odds of finding him again?  When he could possibly have a seven hour head start?  Who knows where he could be at this point?  I met Zac back at the house and told him to go to work.  There wasn't anything that he was going to be able to do.  After he left I went into the backyard and inspected our gate latches.  I discovered, to my horror, that I hadn't latched the one gate correctly.  The gate is a sort of home-made job that someone just whipped together.  I realized that it can sound like it latches when, in fact, it hasn't.  Zac left the gate open the first time, now I had done it too.  I was defeated, despondent.  I could hear the morning rush hour traffic nearby.  I felt sick.

I logged on to the computer and went to Home Again, the website where Toivo and Zoe's microchips are registered.  I logged on and filed a "lost dog" report.  The service sent me a confirmation e-mail that they had sent a report to all of the animal shelters and vets within a 20 mile radius.  All I could do was hope.  Zoe walked around the house, looking a little lost.  I was paralyzed.  I couldn't work.  I couldn't focus on anything.  I wanted to cry, but I couldn't.  I didn't want to leave the house - what if Toivo came home on his own?  But I had to leave.  I had to go in to the clinic to have blood drawn this morning for fertility stuff.  I couldn't stay home to wait by the phone, which is all I wanted to do.  I drove to the clinic and back again, obsessively looking at my phone, willing it to ring with information about Toivo.

When I got home I put together some fliers.  I had to do something.  Maybe if I put fliers on people's doors maybe they'd see them when they got home from work and maybe they'd find Toivo in their yard.  Maybe, maybe, maybe.  And what about his epilepsy?  He has to take anti-seizure medication in the morning and at night?  How many doses could he miss before he started having problems?  I didn't want it to end this way.  Toivo has been my dog for more than 10 years.  We've taken care of each other more more than a decade.  To not know where he was or what happened to him, it just killed me.  I always assumed that I'd be able to bury him when his time came.  Give him a final goodbye.  A final "Good dog."  The thought of not having any sort of closure . . . I couldn't think about that.  

I started down the block.  I was on house number three, talking to a neighbor when my phone rang.  It was an unknown (619) number.  I answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Katherine?"

"Yes, it is."

"Hi, this is Linda calling from San Diego County Animal Services --"

I cut her off, my voice cracking.

"Do you have my dog?"

She laughed, "Yes, we do.  We found him this morning."

My neighbor smiled at my relief as I started running home to get the car.  I was babbling, "He got sprayed by a skunk last night and we kept him in the yard overnight and then the gate opened and he got out and I couldn't find him," and then I started to cry.  Hard.  

Linda kindly laughed, "Yes, he certainly did get sprayed.  He smells pretty bad.  But we have him."

I cried harder.

Linda gave me directions and told me what I needed to bring to pick him up.  (Proof of rabies shot, my ID, and some money.)  I got back in to the house and saw Zoe, sitting there.  I sat down and she came over to me.  As I rubber her head I just let the tears fall.  I was so relieved.  I couldn't believe that they had found him.  That the microchip system worked.  It was amazing.

I stopped by the grocer on the way to pick Toivo up to buy some tomato juice.  Within 45 minutes I was in the kennel area of Animal Services, waiting for my stinky dog.  The handler brought Toivo out and I cried again.  He was fine.  Not a scratch on him.  He acted normal.  I wanted to strangle him and hug him at the same time.  But then he got closer and I remembered how gawd-awful he smelled.  No hugs for now.

Toivo and I went home where I poured tomato juice all over him.  I rinsed him off with some water and lathered him up with some more tomato juice.  He wasn't thrilled about it, but tolerated it.  Maybe he was just grateful to smell something other than skunk for a few minutes.  I rinsed him again and rubbed him as dry as possible and left him to dry outside, as he still reeked.  

Tomato bath and a rinse.  I still smell.

I went inside and called Petco.  Did they groom skunk-sprayed dogs?  Yes, the did.  They could see Toivo within the hour.  Most excellent.  That gave me some time to hop in the shower to try and clean myself up.  I was more than aware that people moved away from me at both the clinic and Animal Services today.  I can't say I blame them.  It's not a pleasant aroma to carry around with you.  After I got cleaned up, I took Toivo over to the groomers and he came home looking like a champion.  Honestly, it's the best he's ever looked.  He still smells a little bit, but not nearly what it was before.  I can live with what he's got going right now.  

I've had a long 24 hours.  

Happy to be home, clean and in bed.

So now we're here, all of us.  Zac, Toivo, Zoe and I.  The way it should be.  It still smells vaguely of skunk around here but I'll get over it.  (Did you know that the compounds in skunk musk are detectable by the human nose at concentrations of only 10 parts per billion? Not enough Febreeze in the world.) We'll probably just have to push back any hopes of a housewarming party anytime soon.  And to our spring guests - we're pretty sure it will be fine when you get here.  (Fingers crossed . . .)  I'm just relieved.  And happy.  

A good ear-rubbing to cap off the night.  Glad to have you home, buddy.

Homeowners R Us

Here's the proof!  Two shiny keys to our new house.  Zac will be home in 10 hours and then we'll have a long, tiring weekend of moving in.  But we'll be together, making our house "home" so it's all good.  :)

Highs, lows, it's all part of the ride

I spent part of my afternoon today in an escrow office, signing a stack of papers that will finalize our purchase of a house.  YAY!  The only downside of the experience was the hand cramp than started about 20 minutes into the signing process.  Since Zac is still in Indiana, I got to experience the joy of not only signing my name 20,000 times but "Zachary L. Doe by Katherine L. Doe as his attorney-in-fact" 20,000 times as well.  Apparently I am the first person in the history of mankind to sign documents using a Power of Attorney, since almost every form given to me left little to no space to write the POA signature.  By the time I was done signing everything my handwriting had devolved from borderline acceptable to barely legible.  

In California once you're done signing the papers, it's takes a couple of days for them to be recorded.  Only then do you receive the keys to your house.  Right now it looks like we'll be getting the keys on Thursday.  I've already scheduled our household goods (HHG) to be delivered on Monday.  Plus I have to set up water, gas, electric, cable, etc.  It's an exciting thing, buying a house, and as of last week I wasn't sure it was going to happen (issues with a road maintenance agreement) but now it looks like we're 99.9% done with the process and I can't wait to move in.  A real bed . . . heavenly.

When I got home from signing documents, I got a call from Zac saying that someone from the fertility clinic called him to schedule an appointment.  Color me surprised.  *sigh*  I suppose I need to rewind a couple months . . .

When Zac and I got to San Diego we decided that we would try a few IUI treatments to see if we could get pregnant.  Unlike in Hawaii, in San Diego I can go to a military health care facility for fertility treatments.  I got the referral from my primary care doctor a few weeks after we arrived and we had our first IUI procedure in December.  Clearly it didn't work, or I'd probably be blogging about how we're turning one of the bedrooms in the new house into a nursery.  We didn't tell anyone we were going do the IUI.  In fact, we kind of mislead people close to us into thinking that we weren't going to try any fertility treatments until Zac got back from Indiana.  It was just easier that way.  The whole IUI thing was kind of sprung on us anyway.  I just happened to go to the fertility clinic at just the right time in my cycle and the doctor asked, "Do you want to give this a shot this month?" and we figured, why not?  We're here.  Might as well.  

We didn't tell anyone because it's tough having people constantly wondering, wanting to know, not asking and then finally breaking down and asking.  It kind of reminded me of when you're first married and people ask you, "When are you going to have kids?"  If you say, "Oh, we're not sure. At some point, though." people will continue to ask follow-up questions and continue to pry.  If you answer, "In two years," people stop asking because they're comfortable knowing that you have a plan.  You can continue to answer, "In two years" for as long as you want, because as long as people hear something concrete they're placated.  That's kind of how we feel about the fertility stuff.  If we told people, "When Zac gets back from Indiana," that would buy us a couple of months of peace and quiet.  We figured that people would forgive us for the deception if we successfully produced offspring.

So, like I said above, we had our first IUI in December.  Christmas Eve morning found me in an exam room, having an ultrasound to see if the fertility drugs had done their job of getting a handful of eggs ready.  The doctor said things looked good, so a few days later I had the IUI done.  Zac left for Indiana and a few days after he left I got my period.  I suppose I should say that I was disappointed, but at this point in the process I don't really feel pangs of disappointment anymore.  I suppose the disappointment is there, but it's become like white noise.  It's present, but I don't really notice it.  We've been trying to get pregnant for more than two years.  That's more than 24 months in a row that I've woken up one morning to find that my cycle has started and I'm not pregnant.  You get used to that after awhile.

Since I wasn't pregnant, I called the fertility clinic to ask what the next steps would be in the treatment, since Zac wouldn't be coming home until my February cycle.

Time out.  Okay, if you're uncomfortable with all this intimate knowledge of my "lady cycle" then I'm sorry, but it's hard to tell the story without fleshing out the details.  Fertility treatments are completely dependent on timing.  If you miss your timing it can mean you're out of luck until next month.  It means that your refrigerator calendar is marked up with numbered days of when to take which drugs, what days you need to go to the doctor, which days you need to have sex, and what days should be the end of your cycle so you can start wondering/stressing if this is the month that it will work.  Frankly, I'm excited when I look at the calendar and see something like "Hair appointment 10:00" instead of something related to fertility.  Anyhow, back to the IUI narrative.

When I called the fertility clinic I got their voice mail and left a message.   You always get the voice mail when you call the clinic.  No one ever actually answers the phone.  The message states that you are to leave a detailed message and that someone would return your call within one business day.  The message also expressly states that you are not to call back and leave multiple messages, that you should be patient and the clinic will return your call.  A couple of days after my phone call (not exactly one business day, but whatever) I got a call back.  I explained to the clinic staffer the situation, that my husband was going to be gone for the month, but that we'd like to try an IUI once again when he got back in February.  She said that someone would call me back in a couple of weeks to schedule the appointments I would need to get prepped for a February IUI cycle.  I took her at her word.  Turns out that wasn't a great idea.

Being busy with going to Hawaii, the house purchase and working I didn't even realize that the clinic hadn't called me back until I woke up yesterday and realized that another cycle had started.  I called the clinic back, left a message asking what steps we needed to take, and waited to hear back from them.  I got a call from my doctor(!) a few hours later.  I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was uncomfortable.  He apologized to me, but told me that I wouldn't be able to have a IUI procedure this month because they were already booked with patients.  He said that someone would call me back in a few days to schedule the appointments that I would need to set up an IUI for March.  I was so stunned and, yes, disappointed, that I didn't have much to say except a mumbled, "Ok, thanks."  Once I got off the phone, my initial shock wore off and I got mad.  Really, really mad.  I was mad at the clinic staff for not calling me back and I was mad at myself for not thinking to follow up with their non-call-back sooner.  I was also mad at myself for not being able to think on my feet fast enough to tell the Doctor about the lack of a phone call last time.

I sat down at the computer and found the website for Naval Medical Center San Diego.  I located the customer feedback link and typed out an e-mail, expressing my frustration and disappointment.  I saved it, walked away for an hour, came back, edited it and sent it off.  I knew there wasn't anything that they would be able to do for me this month, but I needed to let someone know that what happened wasn't acceptable.  The fertility clinic is, frankly, overbooked.  There are too many patients and not enough staff.  It's not their fault that there are so many of us that need their services but every time I have been to the clinic I am struck by how busy it is and how rushed it feels.  There have even been times where I've been there and there haven't been enough rooms for the patients and the staff has had to play musical chairs moving patients from one room to the next to make sure that the right patients are with the right equipment at any given time.  I appreciate that they work hard and are trying the best that they can, but they needed the feedback.  I didn't do a good job advocating for my healthcare by failing to follow-up on the non-phone-call so I decided that the e-mail would have to do.  I sent the e-mail yesterday afternoon.

That brings us back to today, and the clinic calling Zac.  Zac relayed the message to me, which included a direct number to one of the staffers, not the main line.  I called her and got her personal voice mail.  I left her a message explaining that I was returning her phone call about scheduling my next fertility appointments.  She called me back within the hour and began the conversation by apologizing.  She said that she had been informed that I was upset with the service that I had received from the clinic.  I didn't ask, but the only way she would have known that is if she had received the e-mail from yesterday.  I was pleased that the e-mail was actually read and responded to.

She explained a number of things about the clinic and the fertility treatment process to me that I didn't know.  She also stated that two of their three schedulers had left within the last three weeks and that the under staffing and training of new staff was probably why my message fell through the cracks.  She said that she wasn't excusing the lapse, but she wanted to let me know that that is not how their clinic usually conducts themselves.   She admitted that the clinic was awfully busy, and that she appreciated my patience.  She also explained how the fertility treatment cycles worked, which no one had done before.  That provided me with a better understanding of how and when procedures would happen.  She ordered me some drugs that I needed to pick up at the pharmacy this afternoon and she again thanked me for my feedback.  I headed over to the pharmacy to get my prescription.

When I got to the pharmacy, my prescription wasn't in the computer.  I sighed and headed upstairs to the fertility clinic to find out what happened.  There was a couple in front of me at the check-in and I recognized the papers in her hand as the ones that were given to Zac and I at our consultation for our first IUI.  The couple left and I asked about my missing prescription order.  It turns out that the order was in the system, but that the doctor hadn't signed off on it, and so on.  They had the doctor sign off on it and I returned to the pharmacy to fill the prescription.

When I sat down in the waiting room I notice two things.  1.)  Someone was wearing waaaaaaaaaaaaay to much Old Spice, and 2.) the couple I had just seen upstairs was sitting next to me.  I played cribbage on my phone while I waited, but I couldn't help but hear the conversation between the husband and wife.  I would guess that they were in their mid to late 20s.  Younger than me anyhow.  What caught my attention was the crack in her voice as she struggled not to cry.  I heard her tell him how frustrated she felt, how she used to be so optimistic that things would work out, but that now she felt like she'd never feel that optimistic again.  I heard her tell him how guilty she felt.  How she felt like the infertility was her "fault".  Her husband was amazing.  He held her hand and was incredulous.  "How can you feel guilty?  This isn't your 'fault'.  You've done nothing wrong."  She sniffled.  "But it's not you," she replied, "so it's me, right?  The doctor said you're fine.  How would you feel if we were sitting in this waiting room waiting for drugs that would increase your sperm count? Wouldn't that make you feel like that maybe it was your 'fault'?"  The husband said all the right things as big tears rolled down her face, but I knew that nothing he would say would make her hurt less.

I wanted to say something to her, but at the same time I didn't.  I recognized all that she was saying.  I have had almost the exact same conversation with Zac on more than a few occasions.  Hearing the words out spoken out loud by someone else was difficult though.  The rational part of my brain wanted to scold the young woman for thinking like that.  I wanted to let her know how ridiculous she sounded, and wanted to say that feeling sorry for yourself wasn't going to help with anything.  But as I sat there, listening to her fight back her tears, I softened and started to feel sympathy for her.  I've had those same thoughts.  Hell, I still sometimes have those thoughts.  I reached across the empty chair between her and I and touched her arm.

"I wasn't trying to listen in on your conversation, but I'm going through exactly the same thing that you are.  My husband and I have been trying for more than two years.  I've said exactly the same things to my husband that you're saying to yours.  There isn't anything I can say to you to make you feel better, because there isn't anything that will.  But what you're feeling?  It's normal.  And it sucks.  It sucks so much."  She blinked through some tears and gave me a half-smile.  I realized that I was about to cry too, so I bit my lip and forced a smile back.  Her number was called at the pharmacy window and she got her prescription.  As she passed me on the way out she stopped, smiled, and said softly, "Good luck to you."  I smiled back and her and said, "Good luck to you too."

That's the most I've ever talked to another woman going through infertility treatments, at least since I've been going through them myself.  I don't particularly want to talk to other women going through this.  But I felt like I had to say something to her, just because she seemed so defeated.  I've come to terms that I might not ever be a mother, and I've started to embrace the idea of the adventures that a life without children will afford me.  I'm still hoping that we have kids, but it's not going to break me if we don't.  But she seemed so crestfallen, so heartbroken.  I just wanted to let her know that it's okay to feel that way and that yes, it does suck.  It sucks so much.  

So for those who want to know when we're going to have kids?  Two years.

I'm not really the job fair type

On Thursday I attended a symposium/job fair for military spouses.  Anyone who knows me knows that I can have a really piss poor attitude when it comes to attending job fairs.  Actually, piss poor might be a bit of an understatement.  I'm more along the lines of down-right hostile with negativity oozing out of my pores.  I hate job fairs.  I know that I'm not great at selling myself to prospective employers, especially when I have no idea what jobs they may have that would be of interest to me.  I can hardly figure out if I'm qualified when they post a job opening - I can't begin to figure out what to say when I'm walking up to random booths not knowing what they have available.  Job fairs are demoralizing, soul-sucking, drink-inducing affairs that usually put me into a tailspin of self-doubt and self-pity for at least a couple of days before and after.  Yes, I'm aware I have issues.


I'm glad to report that this one wasn't as bad.  That's probably because I (mostly) skipped the job fair part.  [I can almost hear my mom yelling at me through the computer.]  The first half of the day was a symposium to help military spouses with issues that many of us face: frequent job changes, gaps in employment, employers being reluctant to hire people that may be moving soon, etc.  I was surprised to hear that the national unemployment rate is around 8.5% but that for military spouses it's closer to 26%.  I count myself lucky that I have a job, as many of the spouses that I talked to that morning were in the unemployed group.  I was also surprised at the number of spouses in attendance that had four-year degrees and beyond.  A fair number of them had masters degrees and I overheard a couple of attorneys talking a few tables over.  Regardless of the education level, the one thing that I saw that every spouse had in common was a look of overwhelmed frustration on their faces.  And I'd say a good half of them just look defeated.  The presenters tried to be bright and perky and bring up every one's spirits, but I think even they realized that it was going to be a tough crowd.


The first panel of the morning was comprised of four human resources specialists.  They gave a lot of advice on interviewing and how to answer those awkward questions about being a military spouse.  A lot of what they shared was common sense: be honest, be upfront.  But they did say a few things that stuck with me.  One of the panelists said that interviewing is sort of like a being a political candidate at a debate - you need to know your message (i.e. why you're the best candidate) and keep bringing the interview back to your message, even if the interviewer throws a couple of tough questions at you.  I hate when politicians do that at debates, but it's true that it's an effective way of controlling the interview and making sure that you get out the information that you want to get out.  I was also surprised that all of the panelists said that they didn't care if it was paid experience or volunteer experience - if it makes you look good as a candidate just put it down under the general label "experience".


The panelists also emphasized that if you're not using social media to try and find a job, then you're really not trying at all.  LinkedIn, Facebook, Twitter.  They said you need to be on these and know how to use them.  I was surprised at how much they kept coming back to that.  In closing they also reinforced the "one-page resume" and "hand written thank you note" doctrines, which I'm sure would please my mother.


The second half of the morning session was an abbreviated version of a longer training that addresses building your brand.  One of the key components of the training is getting you to think of good experiences you've had in life, professional or personal.  Not things like, "getting married" or "graduating from college", but things like "The presentation that I made in front of the Board last week" or "putting together the senior class party for my daughter."  We were all instructed to jot down some good experiences on a piece of paper and then get into groups of three to share them.  I sat there and stared at my paper.  I couldn't think of a damn thing, at least not anything related to my job.  I do a lot of little things really well at my job - I'm particularly good at finding errors that some people would over-look - but in terms of the good experiences that they were looking for I was drawing a blank.


Then I thought, "Well, I did have a good experience presenting at COMPASS," so I jotted that down.  And then I thought about putting together the family communications survey when I was the ombudsman at Zac's last command.  That was a pretty good experience too.  When we broke into groups each member shared their good experiences while the other members jotted down what skills they heard when you talked about your experience.  The other two women in my group were younger Navy wives, I'd guess in their mid 20s.  One of the women had a couple of experiences to share, but the other young woman just shook her head.  She hadn't been able to think of anything.  She look particularly sad about that.  I told her that I had a heckuva time thinking of things at first, too, to try to make her feel better.  I told her that I bet if she looked at other parts of her life, being a spouse, a parent, a daughter, a volunteer, etc., that she'd find some good experiences she could use.


Besides exposing what skills we have, sharing our good experiences also was supposed to help us figure out what we enjoy doing.  It wasn't until we did this exercise that I realized how unhappy I've become with my job and how it lacks attributes that make me feel fulfilled - interacting with people, working as part of a group, sharing information with others.  While I enjoy project-based work, performing research and looking for errors, I'm too isolated in my current role.  I need to find a job that it outside of my living room.  I need to have co-workers again.


One of the other cool things about writing down and talking about your good experiences is that it makes you happy.  You feel pride, and excitement, and satisfied.  After the good experiences exercise the vibe in the symposium was decidedly more upbeat and cheerful.  Attendees were actually smiling and laughing, and more than one spouse seemed ready to storm the job fair with a reinforced sense of self.  (No, not me, silly.)


After lunch I did walk through the job fair, just to see what companies turned out.  I saw a lot of IT companies, some banks, the Navy Exchange and the Army Exchange folks, Walgreens, Lowes, 24 Hour Fitness and others.  All of these companies already post as part of the Military Spouse Employment Program so if I'm interested in seeing what they have available I can always check that website out.  While I didn't use the job fair part of the day, I'm glad I attended the morning session.  It gave me some valuable ideas on what I need to put on my resume and how I can start figuring out how to articulate orally and in writing what my job skills actually are.  Now I just need to keep this good-feeling-train rolling and translate it into a new job.