Party Time!!

At our new installation (Army term for military post), they have a newcomers meeting every month for, well, the newcomers. Jesse and I went on the 18th where I met a couple of very nice girls. My favorite so far has been a nice Dominican woman named Judy. She is married with a 3 month sweetheart named Liana (who Jude is going to marry when they get older…yep, it’s been decided and they are already in love lol).

She was trying to hide from the camera.

This past Saturday was Judy’s birthday. Her husband Timothy had to work so I decided to throw her a little birthday party. It was also the first unofficial “Army Wives Club” meeting I’m trying to put together. We had some bubbly. I made her chicken-fried steak, and my friend Ashley baked a chocolate cake.

Ashley and her son Mathan

We had a really good time and it was a fitting day to have a party. You might remember me saying the best thing your child can do in the first year is give you a full night’s rest, and when Judas gave me mine I would have a party. Well, it just so happened that the Friday night, Judas went to sleep at 10pm and did not wake up until 6. I got my party…no confetti, but he did throw up on me, so I think that counts.

After my full night of sleep. I loved him super-hard at that moment.

Chicken-Fried Steak

Image from the Pioneer Woman

All recipes will also be added under the Oshmigosh Recipes page.

1lb ground beef or 3 small steaks

¾ cup of self-rising flour

1tbs garlic powder

1tbs black pepper


Azafran (optional)

1 lg egg

½ cup milk and 1 cup milk


1. Take 1 large egg and half-cup of milk, mix together, then set aside.

2. heat 1/4 cup oil on medium heat in skillet big enough for all 3 patties

3. mix 3/4 cup of flour, dash of salt, 1 tbs black pepper, quarter pack azafran.

3. Take ground beef, mold into 3 ovals, flatten to about half inch.

4. Dip patties in egg, make sure you coat both sides COMPLETELY. Then completely cover both sides in flour.

5. put in pan, cook each side for about 7 minutes.


1. drain all oil except 3 tbs.

2. add remainder of flour. mix until it’s like paste.

3. add 1/2 cup of milk. boil for 5 minutes so the flour taste is gone. then add water until it’s the thickness you want.

Eff You, Too, Miranda

Happy Monday, readers! So this weekend Jesse started his actual job, and we found out that he will be working from sunup to sundown for weeks on end. So pretty much, I’m never going to see my husband again unless he has block leave (the soldiers’ 2-week reward vacation after being treated like a slave). So yesterday, I decided I was going to unpack some more –there isn’t a lot left, just need the time to get to it—and Judas decided he was constipated and had to scream the entire day. He and I were miserable together.* So, I got to ‘straighten’ up my living room, and the rest of my day was spent nursing, comforting, singing to Judas.

DH saying goodbye to Jude before work.

Today, the husband had to be at work 6:30, and today was going to be attempt #2 at cleaning up. I finally got Jude down, and ran downstairs to clean up. I opened my dishwasher to find my dishwasher sucks SUPER-HARD and didn’t wash my dishes. So I’m going to have to hand-wash them. Unfortunately, the water in my new house is lukewarm at best, so I had to call maintenance to get some hot water so I can clean properly. So I swept and mopped the living room, cleaned off the counters and stove and am about to sweep and mop the kitchen when my DS decides his nap is over. Sigh. Well, I guess I can put him in the stroller and we can go check the mail. No one loves me; Jesse got something from the post office, though.

I decided to roll Judas around the house in the stroller while I put things away. I shoved some army gear in the closet, and I’m stopped in my tracks. There is a box from Things Remembered that his ex-girlfriend gave him. I told him to throw this box away. He didn’t. I’m going to assume he just forgot because it was in a pile of crap next to the front door. I look at this box, and I realize, it’s kind of nice. Unfortunately, it has a ‘beautiful’ engraving on it from the ex.

You Complete Me,
Love Always, Saima”

I’m a jealous hater (only sometimes) and I WANT this box, but in order to keep it, I need to get that chick’s words OFF! So I take it upon myself to get a steak knife and try to pry off the engraved plate. I’m getting excited because surely but slowly, it’s coming off.

I guess it was a spiteful thing to do. I could have just thrown the box away. But no, I had to put my mark on it. And karma decided to put its mark on me. The knife slipped and I stabbed myself in the middle finger. It was pretty deep. So, I bled all over my kitchen. I had to pick up Judas and carry him upstairs so I could rinse the blood off. So now I have a hole in my finger, that stupid box is still on my kitchen counter-engraving attached, and I wasted like 15 minutes of my life being an idiot. That’s what I get…

This was right after I rinsed some of the blood off so it doesn’t look as horrible.

*Side note: If your infant is constipated, and you need to give them some instant relief, use Karo light corn syrup. Just 1 tsp is all it takes. They should some relief within an hour or two.

P.S. I have some pretty awesome stories to share throughout the week, so stay tuned for more.

Screw Father’s Day

So this past Mother’s Day, I woke up to kisses from my sweet husband, breakfast in bed, lilies on the nightstand and a spa day awaiting me, child-free. I was so happy that I—Oh, wait. No.

No, that’s what I wished had happened. Instead, I had a grumpy husband, who ignored me for his video game most of the day and…was less than verbally polite when he actually did acknowledge my presence. He went and spent around $300 dollars on himself and his brother, and I got a card…the next day. Mandi and our friend Jessica begged him to just tell me ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ and I wouldn’t be so mad, but he refused to do that. As a matter of fact, he didn’t say it until the next afternoon in Burger King. He told me that since the day before went so poorly, we were going to have Mother’s Day that day. I honestly can’t remember what we did. I think we went and saw a movie…but I was so extremely heated that it didn’t really matter to me. Of course, to keep the peace, I acted like he was being so sweet and I was so grateful for his generosity. In reality, I spent Sunday to Thursday crying whenever I found time alone. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal. It’s just a Hallmark holiday, right? Wrong. I have postpartum depression, and everyday I plaster a smile on  because I want to seem like a cheerful wife and mother for the sake of my family. So, I deserved a day to be treated like I was worth something like every other mother the one day of the year our kids/husbands make an effort to show they care. I didn’t get that.

So for Father’s Day tomorrow, I’m going to get a hammer, smash his laptop, sell his tools while he’s asleep, and get some scissors and cut the crotch out of all his…Oh, wait. No. No…That’s just what I want to do.

I’m actually going to wake him up with kisses, make him breakfast in bed, get him something special, and try not to knock his face off because I love him…

They All Fall Down

Jude rolled off the bed today while I was a sleep. It’s not the first time he rolled off the bed, but I almost missed it. I was dreaming I was a construction site, so when I heard him tumble…I assumed it was part of my dream for a second. Then I heard his little baby cry and popped up to see my sweet little Judas sprawled out next to the bed, screaming his head off, his pacifier a little ways off. I felt this huge wave of guilt. How could I not make sure he was secure before I fell back asleep?

Don’t worry. I didn’t drop him until the second day he was alive..JK

When Jude was first born, he mostly slept in bed with me. I know that a lot of people say that’s wrong, but even though I’m only 23, I raised A LOT of kids in my time. I know that having a baby and then immediately trying to make them independent is cruel and takes away the security they got from you. So, exhausting as it was, Jude and I spent a lot of time together in the beginning. When he got to be about…3 months, he decided he wanted to be independent on his own. He rolled over. It was cute and exciting. It happened so fast I pretty much missed it.  The second time he rolled over, he was laying on the bed atop a sleeping Jesse while Jermahl played with him and I was taking a much needed shower. That shower lasted all of 3 minutes until Jermahl burst into the bathroom, frantically inquiring about a bottle as Jude screamed his head off. Apparently, Jermahl tried to pick his brother up and…it didn’t go so well. I haven’t been able to relax while showering since.

Aren’t they adorable?

Anyway, Jude’s been rolling more and more now. He’s also been sleeping in his crib except for late night feedings. Last night, I had a nightmare about Jermahl. When I woke up (3:15am), it was time for Jude to eat. So he stayed in bed with me the rest of the night/morning (however you choose to look at it) because nursing makes me sleepy. Yeah, well, even though he was snug in my arm, he managed to turn over and make his way to the other end of the bed. And fell. Of course, I had to Google what to do when your baby falls (even though I already knew), and saw all of the scary signs to look for in print. So when he projectile vomited, something he does at least once a day because he’s trying to sit up, I lost my mind. I got dressed to go to the ER, sat on the bed and stared at his pupils for about 15minutes while I waited for Jess to get home. Then I realized I was an idiot and put on Barney for Jude so I could stare at myself in the mirror… That is why rolling over, crawling and walking weren’t on my list: those are terrifying things. He can roll to his death, crawl to electrical sockets, run through my house smearing my mascara on the walls (Jermahl has done this…twice).  Suffice to say, Jude is okay and Jesse is home from P.T. so he’s playing with his daddy now. That was my morning, though. How was yours?

Jude rolled over to watch T.V.

5 Things to Look Forward to In the First Year

Every parent knows that our child’s milestones are some of the most important moments in our lives. We stare like crazy people waiting for them. Here are some of my favorites.

I know this doesn’t count, but he gets angry pretty well.

5. The first temper tantrumI know this doesn’t seem like something a parent should look forward to, but if you think about it, it’s kind of awesome. You get to see a glimpse into their personality, not the cutesy one you tell yourself they’re going to have. The real them. And if you don’t stress and just enjoy the show, you’ll see they really are beautiful no matter what. Jermahl didn’t throw a lot of temper tantrums. He was a pretty sweet baby. Jude on the other hand….

4. The first word- I know the first word is important, but the list is only so long. When they say their first word (and it’s usually by accident), prepare for the tears of joy. It’s pretty much a given. You may not do it front of it everyone, but they are going to come. The overwhelming joy of realizing your baby can communicate with you, it’s just one more thing to bring you closer together. It also gives you another thing to brag about to friends and family…and you know how much we love talking about our kids, even if they don’t love hearing about them. Jermahl said his first word at 5months old, on Christmas Eve. It was ‘Mama.’ Judas is learning sign language so I can talk to him early, too.

Jermahl with Jude’s brother and sister.

3. The first smile I thought about putting this first…but Jermahl and Judas smiled the first day. So did all of my nieces and nephews. In fact, I’ve never seen a baby who didn’t smile the day they were born. If yours didn’t, there is nothing wrong with your baby. Everything I’ve read says it’s from birth to 2 or 3months. The first time each of my boys smiled…good gosh, my heart melted. My heart still melts when they smile at me. When Jermahl was a baby, he would smile in his sleep (same with Jude) and I would play with his fat little cheeks to try and get him to smile. Reflex or not, one of the sweetest things you’ll ever see.

First picture of Judas laughing.

2. The first laugh This is tricky. Babies don’t usually laugh until about 3 or 4 months old. Jermahl was 3 months and he laughed a lot. It was so precious to hear it. He’s a goofball.  Judas, however, started laughing in his sleep when he was about a week old. I nearly died! I thought it was the cutest thing and I just needed more baby laughter in my life. I have tried everything to get him to laugh. Tickling…I’ll either get a smile or a ‘what the heck are you doing’ look depending on the time of day. He smiles big for Mr. Bear but no laughter. I kept saying, LAUGH. And then one day at 2 ½ months…he did it. I was talking to him and everything I said, he laughed at. It lasted for about 10 minutes and then I didn’t hear laughter again until a week ago. It’s one of the most joyous sounds I’ve ever heard. It will be for you, too.

1. The first full night of sleep- Screw the cute baby outfits, first steps, smiling, laughing…at some point, you feel like giving them something to cry about because THEY JUST WONT GO TO SLEEP. I know Jermahl was just a baby… I know Jude is just a baby…I chant it to myself over and over every morning at 3:35 a.m. When he was first born, he wanted to sleep ALL of the time, but I had to wake up every 2 hours to feed him because if I didn’t my boobs, were going to explode and he was going to be malnourished. Now he wakes up every three hours to eat on his own. This could turn into the woes of breastfeeding, but that will be another post. Suffice to say, it probably won’t happen until we incorporate baby cereal into his diet so he stays full longer, but the day I, E. Miranda Bevil, go to sleep at 10 and wake up at 6, will be the day I throw a party. I promise. It will have balloons. Possibly confetti, as well.

Random Rants

I guess I thought that if I waited long enough, something good would have happened and I could write about that… :/

So I never know if I should hand out good news or bad news first. It seems like, if I give out the bad news first, the good news will make it seem a little better. If I give out the good news first, the bad news could ruin the just received bad news. If I give out the bad news first, the good news might not be good enough to overshadow the crappiness of the bad news. These are things that go through my mind when writing. See, I don’t want my blog to seem emo…but my life is kind of jacked. Haha.  A lot has happened since I last wrote. Since I’m low on time, this will be a series of blogs over the next couple of days.  

I have recovered from the surgery pretty well.  I’m mostly healed. There is still a tiny knot above my navel from the sutures and my piercing is gone, but, oh well. I can dance now. I can do some yoga. I still can’t do “hardcore” ab work yet, but almost. I’m going to start walking on Monday and getting rid of some of the baby fat. Every one keeps telling me I’m vain because I want to go back to a size 1-3. I KNOW that being a 9 isn’t fat. I don’t think (depending on how well you take care of your body) that a 16 is ‘fat.’ HOWEVER, even my stretchiest  pair of jeans are ripping at the crotch…so sue me for wanting to fit into my clothes again and not having to buy a whole new wardrobe, ya know? Sorry for the rant lol.

My semester of school is over. I went from a 3.7 to a 2.286. It sucks so badly. I know that I only got that low of a GPA because of my circumstances, but in a way, I feel like I should have been able to push myself to do better, regardless of how much I had going on. To me, school is WAY too important to mess up. I have too much to lose to not make it.  On another rant…:

Have you ever heard someone use the word, ‘irregardless?’ Does that make you want to punch their face off? I heard someone say it today in the furniture store, and I swear I almost gave them an English lesson. For anyone who doesn’t know this, allow me to save your face from being punching off via your neck: “irregardless” is NOT a word. It is stupid. It’s pretty much saying, ‘regardless of it being regardless, I’m an idiot and can’t speak English correctly.’ Please don’t say this near an English nazi. You may be pummeled.

Back to the blog, I really don’t want to fail school. I just want to be someone my kids can look up to. I know this blog is messy. But I’m in the middle of unpacking. I’m throwing some laundry in…and then I’ll be back. Stay tuned.Image

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