I sent letters every day- at least mostly every day, no small feat when your living in a hotel room with two small kids. Oh yeah, let me back up.

I was living in a hotel room because when my husband was going to ship out to bootcamp I was going to head out to our destination early and set up shop. So being the suave planners we usually arent, we stuck all of our belongings in storage so I wouldn't get stuck with the job myself. Our plan was that I would rough out a small hotel suite for the 6 weeks of bootcamp, move accross country with the kids (myself) in what I call our midget-car (Suzuki Sx4 hatchback), and wait for him before we retrieved our belongings together.

However, as military likes to do, things went wrong, and his paperwork wasn't correct. To make a long story short, he had to pick an entirely new career, get delayed a few weeks in going to bootcamp. By the time he got shipped off (I love that term now, by the way, so fitting), the wrench that had been thrown in our plans was big enough to make the boldest planner cry baby tears.

It's okay though, I'm a fighter. So I roughed out the 6 weeks, and met my hubby in bootcamp city, the great Chicago, IL. Trying to find my way through the city was like navagating the jungles of a theme park, only these hoardes of people all had their own cars and for some reason love to lay their fists on their horns at any moments notice. Seriously, take too long to turn, HORN! Dont jump the second the light's green, HORN! Glance around while driving and drop below speed limit, HORN! Its nerve wracking, and I swear I should have gone corner to corner looking for some valum or prozac or something just to survive the experience.

My second day in Chicago was Bootcamp Graduation Day. That was great. At the absolute crack of dawn- really before the sun rose- we piled in the car, children and I- in the chilly cold, drifty snow, and headed out in this foreign city. I turned on my TomTom, which was only slightly helpful in the maze of highways Chicago holds. Now, dont get me wrong, Chicago is awesome, and I liked it there. Plus, it's home to my all-time fave Baseball team, the Cubs. But take a girl who already can't drive and stick her in a city like this- YEAH RIGHT. I bet every native there was like, "Who the hell is this chick?" and cursing my brand new Colorado U.S. Navy license plates.

So I'm on the highway- one of a thousand, and I'm trying to see on the TomTom if I'm supposed to go right or left onto another highway, and BAM! Here come a dozen tall, white, skinny freaking road cones straight at my nice orange hood. I'm not a total idiot, so I swerved to avoid them, but I still took out three or four. This of course caused me to fishtail. The cars behind me, probably some freaking out and others laughing their asses off at my blatant stupidity, honked their horns (of course) and slammed on their brakes.

YAY! I'm a pro at the Chicago Highway now. Or not. After that, it got a little lighter outside and I made it to the graduation with us all in one piece. Whew.

So that's the end of that story.