Tinkering with Pixelmator (Attempt #1)

Like I said before, I am not aspiring to be a photographer. But I do like the idea that you can take a photo and make it look different. Better. Even artistic. I used Picnik for forever until it got sold to Google. Then I started using PicMonkey and absolutely love it. But I got curious. I wanted to try a better editor. Something that could enhance a photo and make a new image from scratch. Something that artsy photo editors and graphic designers use for their masterpieces.

Just not Photoshop. It's waaaaay too expensive, and I know I'm not exceptional enough with graphics to need it.

(And no, not GIMP, either. I've used it before, and it gives me a headache. Don't ask me why. It just does.)

Enter Pixelmator.

It cost me $15 from the Mac App Store, which is totally reasonable for a graphic novice like me. I spent all evening looking at YouTube tutorials and tutorials from their site before starting a project, and my brain is on overload. But I had to try out some of the things I learned before I slept for the night and forgot everything, so I pulled out a picture I took at my brother-in-law's wedding. Some of the tutorials were difficult to follow, and I realized that I'm better at reading instructions than watching instructions. Which is surprising because that's totally opposite in dancing. But when I followed the written instructions on Pixelmator's site, I found the process was much easier and I could remember it better.

I could've waited a few months to keep practicing until I got a really good product created, but this job took me so long to work on that I don't want to just leave it like it was nothing. Besides, this may be a good reference post for me to see my progress with utilizing this program. Like how you see on all those weight loss commercials testimonials with "Before" and "After" photos. Maybe this could be my "Before," you know?

Anyway, here is the original photo:

... and here is my first Pixelmator edit of this photo:

It's not much, but I'm proud. I have more photos of their wedding I want to edit and give to them, so I better hurry up on the others. Aren't my husband and his family so handsome? :-)

Pixelmator: so far, so good. I like all the features that I've learned it has so far, and I can't wait to see what else I can create with it.

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Saying Goodbye

Almonds took this picture

I can't believe this week has actually come... and gone. It was filled with too many trips back and forth, more ups and downs than I can count, tears, laughs, hugs, kisses, prayers and well wishes. And of course, goodbyes.

The last time I said goodbye to Jobi, he called me at 1:00 am telling me he forgot his keys in the van. And of course those keys were so important, that I had to find them, drive all the way across the island at 4 in the morning, and give them to him before he left. I spent that whole drive there yelling at the top of my lungs at him for making me do this. "Why couldn't you just remember to grab them?" "I do everything for you!" "You suck!" 

Not at him, him, of course. Just pretending that he was in the car with me. So I can give him a piece of my mind. You know what I mean?

So after an hour's drive and asking half a dozen people for directions, I found him and gave him his precious keys... and prayed with him one last time. And suddenly I felt pretty lucky. Lucky that I got one more chance to pray side-by-side with my husband. Lucky that I got to see a different part of the island for the first time. Lucky that I could say goodbye once more, and that each goodbye felt a little bit easier.

After 6 years, I still can't believe I married "Weird Boy." And now our weird adventures continue, and because of them, this weird boy has become the love of my life.

Jobi's parents and my sister... support

Daddy-daughter (mini) date ... watching a Netflix movie on his phone

Waiting for dinner ... while Chip runs off

A hui hou, sweetie. Can't wait to see you again soon.

"Weird Boy" -- 7 years later

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Pre-Deployment Family Photos

Sorry about that last post.

Depressed much?

I try to keep this blog as honest and true to myself as possible, but I still have yet to find that perfect balance between what is too much and what is not enough

... as far as content, that is.

But the fact of the matter is that this is my life now -- pregnancy and deployment. And as much as I can  post another movie review or another fabulous DIY tutorial, my blog wouldn't be my blog if I didn't share myself with it. My struggles in finding my place in this world. My true feelings about "going for broke" in life. So yeah, you'll keep seeing those kinds of posts now and again.

But this post is not one of them.

This post has pictures!

One thing I wanted to make sure we did as a family before Jobi left was to take family photos. No way was I going to let him go off on his grand adventure without leaving photos of himself behind for the kids. Sure, we have Skype and what not, but we don't really have photos of him with the kids, and in case anything happens, I want them to see that their father loves them, that they love their father, and that we truly are a family.

I'm beyond grateful for Marianna Ah Quin who took our photos. Because the kids are still small, there aren't any pics where all of them are looking at the camera at once. But these pretty much portray my little family accurately: from my Jobi's military haircut, to the clothes that Blondie picked out herself. Here are only a few:

I love this one!

And Chip's crying never ends.....

Daddy's little girl -- Almonds' best friend

My studs

My favorite

And our happy family... never mind that we all look a little funny.

 I know my kids are gonna love these. And I hope that Jobi will too -- especially while he'll be so far away, and since we'll be adding one more before he returns.

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As He Prepares to Leave

Everyone has their battles. Everyone has things that are difficult to do, even if they are easy for other people. Before it all began, I didn't think I would have a problem. I had even looked forward to the idea, thinking of all the possibilities that would be open to me once these situations arise.

I'm talking about deployment.

In the 6 years that my Jobi has been in the military, he has not seen deployment once. Yes, he's been to BCT/AIT, LDAC, and BOLC, but not an actual deployment. Where it's a minimum of 6 months and a maximum of I-can't-tell-you. Where he won't be able to call me until whenever-the-heck-he-can. Where his mission is to something-I-don't-know, and he's going to who-knows-where. This is his first time, and so this is my first time.

And I'm not ready.

I'm not ready to send our bossy little Almonds off to kindergarten this year without him by my side. I'm not ready to make the day-long grocery and household shopping trips across island with Chip screaming in the back, by myself. I'm not ready to give birth to #4 while he watches via Skype. I'm not ready to pay the bills, register the car, fix the fridge, and kill the giant cockroaches. I'm not ready to spend more sleepless nights with anywhere from one to four kids needing to be held, rocked, bathed, fed, sang to, read to, or anything-else-to-get-them-to-sleep. And I'm certainly not ready to spend the hundredth night in a row sleeping alone.

Almonds and Blondie cried the other night. And when I say cried, I mean wailed. I sang them songs; I read them stories; I spoke kind and loving words for what seemed like days. Then I just sat next to them and cried too. Because I knew why they were inconsolable. And it hurt. Their dad isn't deployed yet, but he hasn't come home since post-mobilization began, and they know something's up. This time, "Army work" is different. And they don't like it. Not any more than I do. Not at all. 

So yeah, of all the things I anticipated about being a military wife, I did not expect to hate deployment so much. I did not expect I would cry every night for a month, even while he's home. I especially didn't expect I would dread doing the mundane, laborious things that my husband usually takes care of. Before marriage, I never had a problem with paperwork, money issues, car stuff, household repairs, or shopping with the kids. (I always hated killing giant bugs though -- let's not get ahead of ourselves.) But now, I am a massive stress case. These things have been swirling around me and I can barely keep my balance. But it's too late -- he's already "gone," and so I'm the man of my house now. If I had a choice, I'd fall asleep and wake up when he comes home. But I have no choice. I take it back -- I made my choice. I chose to marry this man. And now I must make another choice: to be strong, or not to be strong. (Wow, that wasn't cliche at all.)

I know I have help. My siblings are the best, and my children adore their family. My friends are just a phone call away (which I suck at, just to let y'all know). This town has lots of great things me and the kids can be involved in, and I'm kinda excited about that. And I know that if we just keep moving, the time will indeed pass. It's my mantra for the rest of this year: Just Keep Moving. And when me and the girls wanna cry for our "Daddy," we will stop and cry. And then we will get up and keep moving. I can't stop too long or I will stay there, and that's no good for anybody. Especially not my children, who need their mother so badly.

So as he prepares to leave, I prepare to stay. To be present. To be lonely, but never alone. To move, and to keep moving. This is my battle, and I'm scared to death.

But I'm gonna win.

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The One Word to Ruin It All

After a phone conversation, Jobi told me, "I talked to [whoever was on the phone] about Special Forces."

Special Forces. The green beret. The best of the best the military has to offer. It's been Jobi's dream to be in this "elite" group since he first made the connection between it and Rambo. And this year, I've decided to support him in this "dream." Allowing him to buy books, and watch documentaries, and call offices, and work out, and schedule and budget and all that jazz. And through all this "support," I've never told him how I feel about the idea.

"What did the guy say about it," I inquired.

"He said," Jobi replied, "that if I join SF, I might as well sign a divorce."

Oh boy.

"And what do you think about that," I asked him.

He shrugged, "He has a point."

He has a point? Just a point? I said nothing.

Jobi saw my silence. "You have a thought?" His voice was sharp.

I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I have a thought. I think he's right."

He raised his eyebrows. "You think he's right? Like that we should get divorced?!"

"Well," I hesitated. He's not going to like this. "We aren't strong enough for SF."

"Not strong enough?" he retorted.

I continued. "I'm not strong enough for you to be in SF. You would leave at an unknown time, for an unknown period of time, to an unknown location, doing unknown things. All that unknown would be... too much. I can't handle not knowing. At least when you could come home."

Jobi began, but then exhaled and stayed silent.

I wasn't finished. "The only times you have left us was for training. You've never been on any assignment. And yet when you come home you have a hard time being back. You can't stand to be around the kids, around home, around me. Imagine what that would be like if you actually got deployed. To a combat zone. It would be a thousand times harder! We may not make it through that. Special Forces... We are just not strong enough."

Jobi said nothing, only continued playing. But his shoulders slowly slumped. And his eyes drooped. And his mouth made a slight hint of a frown. Sadness crept into his entire form, and I felt bad. I am his wife. I'm supposed to love him and support him, through thick and thin, for better or for worse. And I'm never supposed to say the "D" word! How could I do that to him? Put him through a terrible scenario of the kids never loving their father again, or our marriage shattered to dust. I shouldn't have been the one to give him those thoughts, those images. What a horrible wife I am to tell him our marriage and our family isn't strong. I wanted to take everything I said back, give him a big hug and reassure him that his wife and kids are still here, that we love him, that he is the awesomest, most bestest husband and dad ever...

But something about his sadness was off.

"Are you..." I looked at him more closely, "bummed?"

He sighed and frowned. "Maybe. I don't wanna talk about it."

No, he wasn't sad about the thought of losing his family... he was sad that his wife told him he can't be Rambo.

 Needless to say, he was bummed out for the rest of the day. And my guilt for being a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad wife?
I'm over it.

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Five Years

Five years ago, March 24 was also a Saturday. I know this because it was a pretty important day for us. We celebrated this day by staying up late the night before finishing our "Heroes" marathon and then reflecting on the last five years of our life. Saturday evening we had a kid-free date (to watch "The Hunger Games" -- yessir!!) and talk about where we see ourselves in five more years.

I have to say, our marriage now is absolutely nothing like our dating days. We were young and fresh, in romantic love and slightly adventurous. Now we are lazy and pessimistic, striving for steady and out of romance. But we are also a team, a partnership, friends. We are growing into each other and understanding one another. We are building a family together, and we feel like -- after five years of trial and error -- our life is finally beginning.

Happy anniversary, Jobi. Thanks for putting up with five years of the worst in me. Here's to five more, and a better me. For you. For us. I love you, now and forever.

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