Kurt and I have decided we would like to have kids. I’m pretty excited about this prospect because I know that Kurt is going to be a great dad. I’ve known him to hang out with friends of his when he lived in Hawaii just to play with the baby, and when he was in Hawaii on his way home from being deployed, he spent all his time over at his friends’ house just to play with their kids.
I think he’s just a kid at heart. :o)
I also think he’s going to be a very supportive husband. OK, I don’t think that, I KNOW that. And that’s a good thing. I watched Dr. Phil earlier this week about pregnancy, and one father-to-be vehemently opposed being in the delivery room because he would feel “useless.” He hadn’t even thought about how much it would mean to his wife for him to be there while their child (that they made together) was brought into the world. He was thinking more about how gross it was all going to be, and he didn’t want to deal with that. I just found that very selfish of him because he ought to put the needs of his wife first. Dr. Phil finally convinced him to be there at the birth, saying that the doctors and nurses can arrange things so that he won’t have to deal with all the “gross” parts, but I don’t think he was fully agreeable. It seemed to me he was just saying it to get Dr. Phil off his back. But if he does go, and he is there in the delivery room, I’m sure he’ll change his mind when his baby is born. It’s really the first time for a father-to-be to be involved, since there isn’t much for a guy to do when his wife is the one carrying the baby. :o)
I know once Kurt and I get pregnant, my in-laws will be so excited. They mentioned something to me last Christmas about giving them grandkids, but they’re good about not bugging us all the time. They knew we wanted to be married at least a couple of years before we had kids. Besides, they have surrogate grandkids now — Kurt’s cousin has kids, and they go over to my in-laws home almost as much as they’re over at their grandparents’ house.
In other news, I have gotten a new set of flannel sheets from QVC and put them on the bed with the quilt that my stepmother and father bought me for Christmas. Those flannel sheets make it so hard to get up each and every morning — the bed is way too comfortable!! The sheets are so very soft, and it doesn’t help that I have a plush-type mattress, causing me to sink down into heavenly warmth as I sleep. My alarm goes off every morning starting at 7:30am, and I just can’t manage to get up until at leave 8:30, maybe 9. Added to that I am just not a morning person. I would much rather sleep.
Tonight I am going to basketball game with J, who is a referee. It’s an all-day affair, which was supposed to work out well when Kurt had duty today. The only problem is the chiefs didn’t like the duty section Kurt was in and switched him to a different one, so he had duty Wednesday night and again on Superbowl Sunday. Grrr. I’m quite perturbed about that, especially considering they’re supposed to go from a four-section to at least a six-section or possibly even an eight- or ten-section starting on Monday. Double grrr. But Kurt doesn’t have duty tonight, and I’m going anyhow. She’s going to one of the islands around here, and I love going with her because I get to see all kinds of neat places in Washington that I wouldn’t get to see otherwise. I’d have no reason to go, other than to explore for the hell of it. So I take advantage when J goes to all these little cool towns, and I get to see lots more of this state than most new residents.
I can’t believe I’ve been here almost a year already. We moved into this house on St. Patrick’s Day, but we arrived in the area on February 26th, after taking thirteen days to drive from southern Virginia. We saw lots of family along the way, and I got to meet a few relatives of Kurt’s I hadn’t met before. Otherwise I’m sure we could have made it across in about a week. But it’s so odd to think that a year ago I was sweating about moving out of the apartment, and getting ready for the move, and wondering if we would be able to buy a house when we got here, and how we were going to afford to stay in a hotel for a few weeks. It all worked out, but it was a very stressful time. Kurt doesn’t think his living here for a year counts because he was out to sea for seven months. He still gets lost and turned around, which cracks me up to no end. He’s usually much better at directions and finding his way around than I am, but now I’m the “native” and I get to show him where everything is.
It’s a good time to be alive. :o)