Dawn of the Daywalker

So I've gone and done it. I'm no longer a perpetual "lurker". Now I have my own blog. Who knows? Maybe someday I'll have some lurkers of my very own! I don't really know what I'll be writing about here. I do know that my friends get overloaded with stories about my son- so this should be a good outlet for that. Especially since these stories? They're not always cute or amusing or even good- that is, unless your his mother.

Chances are? I'll end up talking about the green glittery poop my son had because he ate a bunch of the finger paint he was using at day care before the people had a chance to stop him. Or how he isn't particularly a fan of meat, but he still takes bites of it, chews it up, and pushes it out of his mouth with his tongue. I don't know. You'd probably laugh if you actually saw it... maybe not.

So about me? In case you haven't figured it out, I am indeed, a mom. I'm not just a 'regular' mom. I'm a single mom. A single mom who is in the military (but more on that later). AND it turns out? I'm one of those moms that I always swore I wouldn't be. I talk constantly about my kid. His name is Ethan, by the way. He's 13 months old. I find it very hard to leave him at daycare on the week days, and even harder to leave him with a sitter on the weekends so I can have a life outside of motherhood. I actually am not sure how I have any friends due to the fact that I can't carry on an adult conversation anymore.

So the military. I'm in the Air Force. It's ok. But I'm not kidding- I know EXACTLY how long I have left of my 4 year enlistment (593 days). I can hardly wait. And all the crap going on the middle east worries me. The thought of leaving Ethan with my parents for 8 months makes me want to throw up. Not the part about my parents watching him- the part about me leaving him.
My official job title in the Force is "Engineering Apprentice". This often leads people to believe that I do engineering type work. If you thought that you would be wrong. VERY wrong. I actually end up being the copy b#@*&. It's like I work at Kinkos. Only I don't get to wear the cool aprons and they force me to work out (which I'm fairly certain, Kinkos doesn't).