New friends

Ok, I know I've been super sparatic at updating my blog, but this time I have something awesome to say. I have made a new friend. She's pretty awesome and kind of has a similar life as me. She grew up as a Military brat (Marines, not AF Spec Ops but still badass). Her husband is a Captain in the same course as mine, he was also in the Cav like mine before becoming an officer, like mine. We both want to be apart of a flash mob (which actually got us talking lol) and we have the same similar complaints about Army life while both being super proud and happy to be part of the Army life. To think, I've waited my whole life for someone like her!! haha!

Seriously though, to finally find a friend who can relate to almost everything is pretty fantastic. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends. Meg and Liz are crazy awesome. Megan and I can talk about everything and it doesn't ever get weird (and by everything I mean all that girl stuff and guy stuff and random stuff) and Liz and I talk about so much, but can we relate to everything? No. Can we expect anyone else to relate to who you are as a person? No but having someone come super close is pretty awesome, you have to admit.

Let's call her "Bee". Bee is very cool and very fun it seems. What excites me most is that we'll both be in the FRG together (and we both hate the Virtual one). Our husbands will be in class together and we will finally have a wife in the same unit as ourselves who doesn't give a crap about rank or ... let's call it Officer Wife politics (or as I've affectionately referred to it in the past "Petty Army Wives"). The best part is: we're going to have dinner together next week and meet in person.

See, I added this group on Facebook (or as I call it in my phone and to people in my daily life: Crackbook)  dedicated to the Army Wives here to make friends or at the very least find out what's what about this new post and after saying I wanted to have a playdate (which I did... yesterday, I guess since it's after midnight here) I added a bunch of wives. Anyways, tonight I was watching Greek (go ahead, laugh, I enjoy cheesy things like that), I saw a flash mob in a dance contest and started youtubing and went on Crackbook saying that I wanted to do one. Well, after a couple hours, Bee told me she knew someone who did them and that we should talk. One thing led to another and we started agreeing with pretty much everything the other said about this and that ranging from everything to hating the rank-pulling wives and the wives who belittle brats because we obviously "don't know anything." It was awesome to talk to someone. Then Bee asked me to be her bff saying "I'm going to be cheesy and ask you to be my bff." Of course I said yes, because HELLO, SHE'S AWESOME! And we arranged to have dinner next week, exchanged numbers and plan on doing dinner next week.

I really am excited by this. I mean, it's been so long since I met someone that I can really be friends with. Don't get me wrong, I still love the girls I met at Fort Polk, but I wasn't really close to any of them, even though I wanted to be. But here, I have an opportunity to build a really good friendship, hopefully a lifetime friend, which these days, let's face it, is a pretty rare thing.

So I am happy and I'm excited and I can't wait to have dinner with Bee. I can't wait to find out what this place will hold next.

Much Love.

Who am I?

I thought I'd fill all of you in on the biggest parts of my life, from who I am to how I got here... The good stuff mostly :) It's partly to help bring focus to myself on my own life. I've been down lately and am hoping to feel better soon.

So here goes. Who am I?

Well I'm Leah and I'm 24 years old. I am married to my amazing soldier, Steve, who is a Captain in the Army. I am the mother to two beautiful and wonderful children: my daughter, Lily, a five year old girlie-girl and my son, Jax, a three and a half year old boy who loves dinosaurs and cars. I have two gorgeous four-legged babies: my kitten (well more of a cat now) Luna and my dog (possibly a purebred Great Pyrenees) Beau.

I have made alot of mistakes in my life but my kids have never been one of them. I didn't choose the right man to have them with (if you can even call their biological father a man, sometimes I don't) but I love them more than anything and am so glad they are mine and in my custody.

Lily was born January of 2007, when I was 19. She was a hard pregnancy and a horrible labor but she came into the world with a full head of hair and gasolene eyes. Her hair and eyes have lightened up alot since she was born and now has dark chestnut brown eyes (like me) and dirty blonde/light brown hair. Her favorite things are dance class, her dolls, her dog and cat (she thinks our animals are hers), my husband (Daddy, in her eyes), her brother and me. Her favorite color is pink and she thinks she's a princess.

Jax was born June of 2008, when I was 20, almost 21. He was the simplest pregnancy ever, no morning sickness and a relatively easy labor. He was born with a full head of hair and dark gray eyes with green flecks. Like his sister, those changed. His eyes are now dark brown with flecks of green and his hair is the same as his sister's dirty blond/light brown. His favorite things are dinosaurs, cars, trains, dirt, Daddy, his sister and me.

My own father, who was my first hero, sadly died on October 27th, 2009 and left me broken-hearted and without a family. I loved my Daddy fiercely, as only a daughter can love a father. He was in the US Air Force, in the Special Ops. He spent his life fighting against evil men, teaching me the Military Values that would become so ingrained in me that no one measured up, except my husband. He was funny, kind, amazing. He spoiled me and loved me and took care of me. He did all the things a Dad is supposed to do and more. When he died, I lost so much more than just a Dad. I lost my white-knight, my Hero and my biggest supporter of all my dreams and hopes. In honor of his memory, I got a tattoo on my left calf (actually two) of his unit coin. On one side it says "305th Spec Ops" above a skeleton hand holding arrows and below it says "Darkness Brings Death". On the other side it says "Daddy" above a grim reaper standing in front of the tail of a C-141 and below it says "Sleep Tight". My Daddy's unit motto was "Darkness brings death, sleep tight."

My husband and I met in March of 2010. We were supposed to be pen-pals when he was originally going to deploy with a different unit. He didn't end up deploying but we ended up talking on a daily basis, exchanging texts and emails, building a relationship that we weren't even sure what the future held for it, if it even held anything. We became good friends.

Then in July of 2010, he and I met face-to-face and felt a strong connection. While we both agreed not to make promises until we were positive that we would be able to keep them, we swore that we would stay in touch and send letters while he deployed to Afghanistan. He still called me as much as he could, wrote me letters and I wrote him. Our connection grew as the time passed where we only got to know each other, finding that as each day passed, we thought of each other more and more.

 Finally in November of 2010, I swore that I would wait for him (although I hadn't dated anyone else while he was gone anyways). Also in November of 2010, I started Recruited ByLove, a facebook profile set up to be a support page and friend to other military girlfriends, wives and family members. (The way it's grown has blown my mind and I keep thinking of other ways to expand and make it something real and viable, something that will help not only the women on the page but others who have never even joined).

In January 2011, he came home for R&R and we spent all the time together we could, when we agreed that I would move to Fort Polk to wait for him and live in his house. From the time I lived in Louisiana til he came home, he and I dealt with everything together as much as we could with him being half a world away. I got things ready for his return and he helped me take care of things. We were serious about our future together. Talks of marriage and kids came up.

He came home from Afghanistan in August of 2011, and I was never happier about a man in my life. On post deployment leave, he brought me to Indiana to meet his family, the first time he's ever introduced someone to his family since he'd left home. They didn't like me for their own reasons (that mostly have to do with religious and cultural differences) but that doesn't really matter to me, the only thing that does is how my husband feels about me and he loves me.

After our post deployment vacation, we decided to get married as soon as we could. We started going to pre-marital counceling with his unit Chaplain (who also married us) and believe it or not, our Chaplain picked our wedding date (November 11, 2011).

He officially proposed to me on October 17th, 2011. The way he proposed was so wonderful. We had already picked out my ring (it's gorgeous) and had to have it shipped so I didn't get to wear it without an official proposal :). He took me to the training area of Fort Polk, where little "Afghan villages" are set up and the wild horses roam. I was petting a wild mare and softly talking to the mare when he approached me, got down on one knee and asked me "Leah Gose, will you be my wife?" Of course, I said yes. After all, that was my plan for so long :)

After a month of rushing around to finalize wedding plans and get it all set up, we were married in the Airborne Chapel on November 11th, 2011 (11-11-11) by our Chaplain with close friends and Steve's mother and one of his sisters present. It was a wonderful day and the day my life as the Captain's wife began.

Since we've gotten married, we adopted our cat, Lunatic, a beautiful black and white kitten, made improvements on our house (which we're selling to PCS soon), celebrated holidays, attended Army functions together, spent time as a family together. We have been through doctor appointments, dental appointments, family drama, and alot of other things. We also had our dog, Beau, show up out of the blue and make our family even more complete.

He spoils me rotten and makes my life perfect. Sure, it's not actually perfect. There's drama with petty army wives, frustrations from being in the Army life, bills to pay, things that have to get done, stress from PCSing, raising kids and every day stuff that tends to pile on faster than we can get it done. It's great though, because we are together for as long as we can.

And he encourages me. He encourages RBL and school and my artistic side. He loves that I create beautiful things, from my garden to poetry. He loves that I'm a good mother and that I care. He doesn't mind all my tattoos, or the fact that I want more. He doesn't mind that I dye my hair bright red because the idea of having natural hair bothers me. He doesn't mind that I am a bookworm who reads incessantly. He doesn't mind that I would rather wear cowboy boots and jeans than flip flops and shorts. He doesn't mind that I swear and have an attitude. He likes that I understand the military better than most girls he's ever been with. He likes that I can represent him at military functions and be his public face. He likes that I am a big-hearted softy when it comes to animals and people. He doesn't mind that sometimes I'm over-emotional. He loves me.

And I love him. I love how great he is with the kids. How he is such a hard worker, smart, funny, caring, wonderful, overall amazing. I love that he's getting his Master's degree soon. I love that he's strong enough to deal with things that I can't. I love that he has such a strong moral compass and doesn't deviate from his views, even if I disagree with them. I love that he has his own ways to have fun and I have mine. I love that we are close and that neither of us want to be with anyone else.

The fact is, my life is pretty great. I have these beautiful children who make my world a little bit more sparkle worthy. I have this great man that loves my kids like they are his own, that loves me with all his heart. A man who lets me keep animals as soon as I have my heart set on them. I love that he gave me everything I ever dreamed of and more. I have a beautiful cat who purrs almost every time I pick her up and cuddles with me when she has a chance. And now, I have this handsome dog, who isn't overly affectionate, but enough to know he loves me already.

I have friends that I love to talk to. My closest friends are Megan and Liz, who sadly live far away from me. Megan is in New Jersey and I introduced her to my friend, Eric, an enlisted soldier, who I met while being his pen-pal while he was in Iraq. They are so good together and every time I hear about how they are doing, a part of me feels so great. I was able to introduce a good couple to each other. Liz is in Florida and hasn't found anyone serious yet, but we go back a long time and know each other really well. Both of those girls are my sisters of the heart. I'm so lucky to have such great friends in them.

Our future holds a new post in less than two months, hopefully a baby, named Hunter or Willow, maybe a puppy in addition to Luna and Beau. Hopefully, I will have more friends, a more active social life and more things to be happy about in the future.

I am happy. I am in love. I am faithful, compassionate, loyal, loving. I have a big heart when it comes to kids and animals. I am untrusting when it comes to men and don't get along that well with women. I'm shy around new people and am one of those people where you either love me or hate me, there really isn't middle ground. I love music of all kinds. I love to watch TV on DVD or on Netflix rather than watch commercials. I love hockey and football, teams being the Jersey Devils and the Washington Redskins. I love to read and have already read almost 30 books this year alone (and it's only March 8th). I love to knit from time to time and I love to take pictures and edit them. I love to spend time with my family and I love to cuddle with my pets. I love when my husband takes me to dinner and I love when we all go out together. I love when everything is going good and nothing is going wrong.

And most of all, right now I just am happy to be alive, despite the stress... Sometimes I have to go over the past couple of years to see how great my life really is... I'm a lucky girl.

Love,
Leah

Beau

Well, my day got better. Let me just say this::: No matter what, animals, especially dogs always make my heart feel better when I'm feeling very sad and very stressed.

Today, I saw an unfamiliar dog to the area wandering around, I had my husband whistle for him and he came over, we gave him some treats and put him in the yard so we could call animal control and see if someone was looking for him, but animal control was closed. Upon closer inspection of this dog, I discovered ticks, loads of them. So my husband, being the wonderful man he is, went to the store and bought flea-tick shampoo, spray and treatment and a deworming pill packet, just in case. When he came home, we fought to give the dog a bath, discovering even more ticks. We finally had him washed down really well and let him out of the tub, he shook himself all over my bathroom, my hallway, my livingroom before finally making it to the yard. We dried him off with a towel, and then started pulling the ticks out, I lost count around 20. I told my husband that I didn't think he belonged to someone because underneath all of his fur, he was boney and he has a limp. To be honest, I think he's old, like around 8 or so, and I think someone just ditched him. So after we plucked as many ticks as we could find, we sprayed him down with the treatment, then gave him the monthly packet that goes on his neck, fed him the two tablets for deworming, gave him food and water and let him inside. He'll need more baths over the next few days, and possibly a groomer in addition to a vet.

Even if he does belong to someone, the sheer neglect he suffered is enough to make me say that he is NOT going back to them. And he can't go to a shelter, he's too old and too big, no one would adopt him. So we are taking him in.

And here he is, now officially Boudreaux "Beau" :::

and Lunatic's reaction to him lol

I'm just sad

Well, I'm not pregnant... For a minute there (or six days) I thought I might be, even with two negative tests. My menstrual cycle is like clockwork. I get it ever 24/25 days or so and this time, it was six days late. I was worried and excited and then this morning (after having insomnia all night and waking up at 11am, after finally falling asleep around six am) I went to the bathroom and after a few moments, I realized that the cramps were awful, worse than normal, actually and then it came. I had just told my husband about ten minutes before that I was six days late and needed another test. Well, I didn't get one because I didn't need it. And a huge part of me is sad about that and yet, a little relieved.

I want to get pregnant badly. I want to have our baby. I want to have that with us together and for the past couple of days, I thought I was. I thought, it's here, finally, I have this little starting point and I will only have more joy in the nine months ahead. But I'm not and the sadness makes me feel stupid. After all, it's only the first period since we started trying and I know it takes longer than that sometimes. But still, I feel a little heart broken and these cramps are awful. Way worse than normal.

I did cut back considerably on smoking since I thought I might be (only 4 yesterday) and there is such a disappointment that it wasn't worth it, and yet, I know it was. I did the right thing in cutting back. It will be easier to quit if I can keep my smoking to the absolute minimum.

Steve wasn't really disappointed but it's different for guys and it's not like he's the one who knows what's happening with my body before I tell him. He didn't even know until this morning that I was even thinking that I might be. I mean, he knew I'd taken two tests and both were negative, and he also knew I was late, but he didn't know how late. So there I am, sad that I'm not and sad that I can't really share that sadness with him because he's not sad. He's just him and sadness isn't apart of his personality.

Once I asked him if Iraq changed him. (That was his first deployment, before we knew each other.) And although he lost friends and saw things that weren't normal for most Americans, the events that happened are normal for the Military. He told me "I guess in some ways they did, I mean I learned that I couldn't be close-minded about other cultures and I learned that bad things happen for reasons I can't explain but I have more mental stability than other people and I guess it didn't really change me." Then he told me, "You probably have seen more than I did when you worked at the hospital." It's true there, I did. Men burned, shot, bloodied. Men without arms, without legs. Men with faces contorted by blasts and bullets and pain. Men that were beaten and broken and not at all human anymore. These men, these strong and brave men, these are the guys that I saw and sometimes, it still gets to me.

We both have PTSD, but ours are different. His is from being in war and he's able to control it for the most part. On bad nights, he just holds me tightly and I'm his safety net. He clings to me and keeps himself in the present instead of going back.  Mine comes from being in the hospital, seeing what I saw. I dream of battles I've never faced, see things I've never seen and being the victims of these things, seeing the injuries I saw on others on myself. Normally, I don't dream about it much anymore. I'm safer now, I'm better now. But the truth is, that they hit sometimes and the other night, I had one.

It was after Steve and I went out to dinner and to see Act of Valor. It's an amazing movie that left me crying and missing my father... (He was Special Ops and died in service and that letter, the letter written by "Chief Dan" to his best friend's unborn son, hit me so hard, they were like words I'd heard my father say, things I'd never heard him say... a combination that left me with a fresh wave of pain at the loss of my father.) We came home and when we went to bed, I turned on Bill Engvall (I can't sleep without TV and on nights when I'm more emotional, I put on stand-up comedy just to avoid the bad dreams). It didn't work that way though. I had a nightmare and another nightmare and I couldn't wake up. I didn't scream and didn't move and I couldn't make myself turn towards my husband and cling to him. I just couldn't make myself get out of this fictional world where I was.

I was in Iraq or maybe Afghanistan. I don't really know, as I've never been to either, all I know is that at my feet were wounded men... wounded men I knew. My father and the "uncles" I knew from his unit, years ago, before we transferred to Germany, before I started working at LRMC, before I saw horrors I'd only imagined or seen on TV or partially healed. They were there, all of them, wounded from a blast, from bullets, from whatever else my mind could think of. And there I was, a medic, working on them, trying desperately to save their lives, to force them to stay with me. I don't really remember what all happened but I know that I failed. They all died and I finally woke up in a cold sweat, tears drying on my face and my husband sound asleep next to me. I didn't scream or moan.

I know because he wakes me up and holds me when I do. He knows my nightmares well and has often held me, often made it so I am safe in reality instead of locked in the prison of black and blue and bloody thoughts. I sometimes get nightmares and can't sleep during the night, not until the sunlight peaks through and I feel safe that the darkness is gone. That's what happened last night. I stayed up all night and watched some stupid show on Netflix (and it really was stupid) but the fear of going to sleep and the fear of facing thoughts that I couldn't bare made it so I couldn't... I just couldn't turn my mind off.

And then, when I wake up, my hopes of being a mother again, ruined by either stress (which I'm under alot of right now) or just wasn't pregnant at all, although I've never been this late before without being pregnant, so I just don't know.

And now there's a sadness in me, from that movie, which was amazing but broke my heart again, the nightmares that brought me back to that darkness I'd thought was almost in the past, and the loss of a strong hope. And the happiness, it just isn't here.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband and I'm so very grateful that he's mine. I'm grateful that we have a future together and that my children are happy and healthy and we are a great family, but a part of me is just lost in time, wishing I could make sense of the past few days. I'm not really here, I'm somewhere else and I'm not really sure where that is... It's like I'm here but there's an invisible field around me, fogging the world up so I can't think straight. And I don't know why.

But that's all I have to say for now... I'm just sad...

In-Laws Rant

I'm annoyed. Yes, annoyed. Why you might ask? By my in-laws saying that I am not a Christian Lady... again. I come from an entirely different culture than they do. They are from the really conservative, right-wing baptist community that only values things that happen in their church (and all other churches are wrong, fyi), they don't believe in dancing, drinking, music that doesn't talk about loving Jesus, shows that might be a little too edgy and going to the movies: that's a product of the devil. I am from the Military Community. I grew up raised around Soldiers and Airmen who swore, drank, danced, used weapons on a regular basis, fished, hunted, smoked and alot of other "un-Christian" things. Things I do also. I swear, alot. I drink wine occasionally. I love to dance. I love music of all flavors. I love to watch shows about Vampires and fake worlds. And I love movies. I love to joke around and be inappropriate with my friends because they are my friends and we love to have fun.

So why is this bothering me tonight? Well, it shouldn't really but my husband spoke to his mother last week and it's been in my head. Let me point this out: She never calls me, never asks to speak to me when my husband calls her, never thanks me for what I clearly do for her (like I'm the one who sent her the Anniversary card for her and my father-in-law's 43rd). She acts like she's morally superior to me, even though I'm catholic and believe that I'm on the right path to Heaven for me. (I don't care what you believe, because I believe there are many paths to Heaven and I'm on mine, you are on yours.) And worse yet, she thinks the Bible explains everything. Well, this is the Military and the Bible doesn't cover it, not really. We don't have answers to the problems we face, the scriptures don't hold the keys to every possible situation. It bothers me alot that she thinks I should only find answers in a Book written 2000 years ago.

I do like the Bible. I love the stories inside and I think it's a wonderful book full of stories that teach lessons, but I don't think it covers all the choices life gives. I don't think we could possibly have all the answers for everything.

My in-laws not liking me hurts alot, considering I have no parents anymore. I have friend's parents who love me, who treat me like a member of their family. I have aunts that treat me like a daughter and I have ex-boyfriend's parents that still call me to chat from time to time. So the fact that my own mother-in-law doesn't like me and decides that judging me is better than getting to know me for me, hurts like hell. It's the reason we won't visit over holidays, over Sundays, for too long. The fact is that my husband isn't who they think he is either and he would rather not see me hurt by them. It does hurt too. I'm not the kind of person who gets hurt so easily but I wished for a set of in-laws that would take me under their wing as a daughter, instead I got in-laws who treat me like I'm damaged and cursed.

How am I supposed to deal with that? I send them cards randomly, I send them books that I think they'd enjoy (like Bible Trivia) and I try to keep them updated with pictures of their son and many other things, but do they ever acknowledge a single thing I do? No. Do they ever thank me? No, they thank their son, who if he had to remember the dates for important things, wouldn't. I remind him of Birthdays and Anniversaries. I remind him how old they are, how many years they've been married. And I just married into the family. I am the one who puts forth all the effort only to be judged for things that shouldn't matter.

Your beliefs don't make you a better person, your behavior does. And if we judge them on that, they are totally failing. 

Anyways, that's my rant for the day... I'm sad about it and it makes me miss my Dad even more. He was my hero and my white knight. I never thought I'd be so alone and I never thought I'd need his advice on how to deal with in-laws that don't like you, but I do... and I don't know what to do about it.

Baby fever

I have big news... well the news that will hopefully lead to big news soon. Steve and I had a real talk last night, about babies and our future. We were trying to think of a time where getting pregnant would be optimal but we both disagreed that certain times would be best, and then we just decided we'll leave it to God. So we are officially not preventing pregnancy at all. And I'm excited.

Last night, we had our first round of completely unprotected sex. I have two pregnancy tests in my bathroom cabinet waiting for a late-period and waiting for us to announce our first baby together... He's not Lily or Jax's biological father but he is a great father to them. And he and I are both ready to have a baby together. A little Ramsbottom. We have already come up with names::: For a boy: Hunter Timothy Edward. For a girl: Willow Brooke Lee. Either way, our little one will be a wonderful addition to our family. Even the kids gave their approval to having a little brother or sister.

Jax especially loves babies. He is always playing with other people's little babies, trying to make them laugh, giving them back their toys, offering his own. He's got the instincts already of a big brother.

Lily on the other hand, only wants a little sister. She's decided one brother is more than enough and would like Mommy and Daddy to have a girl. But both are excited at the possibility of a baby in the house. Lily even said "I help you, Mommy" when I asked her how she felt about a baby joining our family.

I can't wait for this pregnancy though. I love my two children but I wasn't ready for a baby and both were surprises to me, completely unplanned. I was thrilled, of course, to have my little girl and little boy. I love being a mother so much. I'm just excited to be ready, to plan a baby, to have the resources to have a good life, that my children are old enough to welcome a little brother or sister into this world and understand what is going on. Lily wasn't old enough to understand that Mommy was pregnant when her little brother showed up, so this time, it'll be this amazing adventure with all of us.

Plus Steve will be home for the pregnancy and for most of the first year, even if he deploys, if I get pregnant by fall. This makes me so happy. The idea of having him home, the idea of having his baby and having our little family grow even bigger just makes me thrilled. I couldn't possibly be happier.

Anyways, that's all I have to say for now. I'll keep you posted :)

Love,
Leah

Moving & Religion

It's 240am local time. I'm stressed out by the amount of projects we have to get done by April 2nd. Yep, I know my date of when the movers will come and pack our stuff out to ship to Fort Lost-in-the-Woods, Missouri. I'm excited and sad at the same time.

I moved to Louisiana almost a year ago, to get away from my past and to welcome my future and to wait on my Soldier. I had been living in NY at this time last year, hating where I was, hating my mother (for many reasons, but for one very important one, she threatened to kill me by holding a shotgun aimed at my face), hating the cold and the snow and the lack of happiness to be found there. I needed to get myself and my children away from her. At the time, Steve was deployed and I was back in my family's town trying to figure out my life. It wasn't my hometown, I was a Military Brat and because of that, I never really had a hometown. (Although, I do call Jersey my home state.) He had come to NY on his R&R from Afghanistan and hated that place as much as I did and told me that he wanted me to move to Louisiana and get away from the bad stuff that kept me so unhappy. So in early March or April (honestly, I forgot exactly when I moved because it doesn't really matter), I moved to Louisiana with the kids to wait for our hero to come home. I met new people and fell in love with this state for what it offered me: Freedom from my family (mainly my mother), a home to set up and a future with my Soldier.

Since moving here, Steve came home in August of 2011, he and I got married. I met his family, wonderful friends and fell in love with the local foods (Cajun and Creole are amazing dishes). I miss things from the other places I've lived but at the same time, I love the small-town America vibe this place has. And soon, we will move to another place that I've never been, we will be surrounded by new people, living in Army housing on post (since it will only be for a year) and we will be celebrating our One year married, and our three years together in Missouri. Lily will start Kindergarten and Jax will be in preschool. I'm thinking of heading back to school for a Psychology degree and taking advantage of my father's GI Bill (as is my right as a survivor).

To move, however, we have to sell our house, make it appear perfect (which adds to so much of my stress), finish my dental things, and finish packing things that clutter our home (aka all the stuff that I won't be needing until at least May). There is nothing easy about PCSing. The thing that makes me grateful, though, is that I won't have to think too much about my in-laws and their misunderstanding and their lack of knowledge about my faith (which is our biggest obstacle in my relationship with them).

I really don't know how to deal with them. All I know is that my religion is misunderstood by them and I probably am misunderstanding their own, except I have asked my husband questions concerning their faith and found myself confused. Don't get me wrong, I know the Catholic church has some issues and possibly some corruption. I know that we have what people would consider "False Idols" in Saints (which, fyi, we don't worship, we simply pray to them in our time of need, we acknowledge their legacies and pray that they will guide us. However, I still accept Jesus (even if sometimes I question things too much) in my heart, and always have. I believe that God has so much to do with six billion (or is it seven billion now?) on earth and he delegates to the Angels and the Saints to help His people. But I also believe that other faiths are probably just as right and wrong as my own, that there are many paths into Saint Peter's Gates, that there are many different faiths that have lessons worthy of learning. I don't believe that any church could possibly have all the answers, nor does the Bible, but I do believe that it holds valuable information and lessons that I hang on to with my heart. I don't know all the answers, but I do know that there are good people who aren't Christian and there are bad people who are. I don't believe in a cruel God who would send good people to hell just because they are born into a faith or chose to believe in a certain faith that is contrary to the Christian way. Just as I do not believe that God would allow bad people into Heaven, who are neither deserving or repentant.

Some of my favorite parts of being catholic are confession, mass, communion and traditions. I love how you can go into any Catholic church in the entire world and the feeling inside is always the same, and for me, it means home, family and something divine. There is usually the same smell too, a mix of perfumes, the unscented candles that burn, the incense that burns purification, and the holy water always feels the same, cool to the touch yet warms on your heart and head as you cross yourself. I have a cross my father brought me back from Italy that was blessed by the Pope and I have my rosary that I've had for so long, a bracelet with pearls and the crucified Christ. I remember the lessons from Sunday School and Summer camp. I remember my first Communion and my confirmation.

I won't make my kids become Catholic though. I don't think I want my decedents entering my church, however I don't want them in my in-law's church either. It honestly terrified me to be there. I saw judgement where in my own, I saw love. I heard the sermon and found myself confused because it was of not judging others while judging them at the same time. I don't want my children being raised to believe that judging anyone, without a real cause is wrong. For example, you can judge a pedophile because he is a monster, not a human being but you cannot judge a young Muslim girl just because of her faith. The Pedophile prays on children, destroying their innocence and taking away the path their lives should have gone. The Muslim child has harmed no one and her only fault is by being born into a Muslim family.

The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, est pater, est filius, et spiritus sanceti. That is the Holy Trinity. That is what I believe in. Let me explain. I believe that God is the Father, he is my Heavenly Father as my Dad was my Earthly one. He created me (whether or not evolution was involved, which I believe is part of the "Seven Days" it took for God to create the Earth, pardon me, I consider science as well as the Bible for the beginnings of the human race) and everything else on Earth, past and present. Jesus, the Son, died for my sins and is my Savior, he has repented for me (although I also repent for my own sins, through confessions). And the Holy Spirit is that part of your soul that is drawn to the Heavens, the part that allows you to do Good and to make peace in the world. If you are good and try to be a good person and devote yourself to your own faith, the Holy Spirit inside you connects you to God and Jesus, but if you are bad and remorseless about your faith, then your Holy Spirit is replaced by a void inside. Now, don't misunderstand me, I don't know if this is what all Catholics believe (there have been so many branches break off and bend to the wills of the people, but this is what my Priest as a child explained to me). I don't believe my friends who are atheist or even agnostic are bad people, and I don't believe they'll go to Hell unless they die with a Hate in their heart that is incurable, however none of my friends, not even the ones with Anti-Christian tattoos are headed for hell. Not that I know of anyways. If they are, then most likely I'll follow them, as we agree on so much of life and only disagree where God is concerned, although we don't talk about our differences of faith. It's unimportant to our friendship and the love that we share.

I think I started to ramble. I didn't mean to but I just can't seem to explain myself right. Not on here, nor to his family. I can't explain how hard it is for me because Faith has never been a big issue in my life. I've had friends in so many different ones, but they all carried values that mattered to me: Loyalty, Courage, Honor, Integrity, Self-less Service, Duty and Respect. I don't care what others believe, and I doubt God would be that Hateful to people who carry these values at the core of themselves. Anyways, my in-laws disagree with most of what I've said before, which is basically what I wrote above. They don't understand how I can't see how "lost" I am, and I don't understand why they would think that. But when two different worlds meet, you can't help but have misunderstandings. I only pray that one day, we will be able to sit down and find ourselves looking past those differences, because as one human to another, from myself to you still reading, I don't think it matters nearly as much as we think it does.

Anyways, it's now 340 and I just spent an hour releasing thoughts from my worried mind. I wish I could talk to my in-laws like I can talk to my friends or even the "Moms" that have adopted me as part of their family. It would be nice to talk to my mother-in-law about kids or her son and how proud I am of him and how wonderful a man she raised. Maybe one day it will happen....

Good Night again.

Love,

Always and Forever,

Leah

Random blog.

Today was a good day, pain included. It was bad but I was able to take a nap and relax as much as possible.

I did get to put together two photo albums for my family. The first has my children from the time they were in my belly til Vancouver, the second contains all pictures from that point til now. The last picture is this ::

I plan to start more albums and when more children arrive into our lives, I hope that it keeps growing until I have so many albums to remind me of things I will no doubt forget.

Anyways, I gotta go, chatting with my little brother (almost a marine) on facebook and very tired. Pain meds are kicking in again. 

Love,

For now and Forever,

Leah

Life

I realized this morning, after pulling myself out of bed, that I hadn't written a blog in a while. Between all that has been happening, the dental surgery and all that, I really hadn't had time or energy to put in. Not that I have much energy now, but I thought I'd better start writing again before the lapse grows too much.

The surgery went well and while the pain lasted more than I expected, I am fully healed and happy with the results. I am happy that it's done with.

There are so many Army things going on this month. Right now, Hubby is the Rear D on a Field Training Exercise. I don't know too many details but I am glad it's only field problems. Rear D, for those who don't know, means he is at Post while the others are in the field.  This weekend is the FRG bakesale, not something I'm looking forward to, but I am the Hospitality chair, so the FRG leader, Casie, and myself, plus our kids and husbands will be at the PX this Saturday selling homemade cookies and wrapping presents. It's for our FRG fund. Next week are several Christmas events, including a Dozer lighting followed by the Company Christmas party and then on Friday is the Christmas Lunch for the S-3 office, where my husband works.

This Saturday, Steve is taking the kids to make a Coal car at Lowes. He is looking forward to it and has really embraced being a father. It's truly a beautiful thing when he comes home from work to the kids yelling "Daddy, Daddy's home" and demanding hugs. Lily loves to get hugs and give him a kiss and tell him that she missed him, while Jax loves to be picked up and tickled. No one would ever know that Steve wasn't their birth father if they didn't know from direct fact. He is everything to them and he loves them so much.

Last night, we got our Christmas tree and set it up. It's beautiful with white lights and tinsel. We are going to decorate it tomorrow, with the ornaments and all that. I did wrap the kids presents and put them under the tree. So far, there is only one present for Steve under the tree and that's his Christmas Eve gift, which by tradition is an ornament and none for me. But I know my husband is going to get me my camera that I've been asking for. I know because I asked for it and he usually gets me everything I ask for, which is why I limit myself and don't ask for much.

This morning was Mikowasch, or St. Nikolaus day, where St. Nikolaus comes and puts small gifts in children's shoes. My kids loved it. Lily got two small "my little Ponys" and a Little Mermaid Pez thing and some chocolate coins. Jax got two small Monster truck toys, a Thomas the train Pez and also recieved Chocolate coins. It was cute to see their smiling faces and, even though they don't understand the holidays quite yet, they know it's Christmas and that Santa is involved. I just wish they weren't so afraid of the Old Man.

Lunatic is good. She's wild and rambunxious but she's sweet and even the kids are starting to grow very attached. I often see them cuddled together with her at night. Sometimes, she rotates from kid to kid and ignores us all night. It's a really sweet sight. The other day, Lily and I were watching Christmas movies together and Lily held Luna through the entire movie with the kitten purring. Lily felt so special to have Luna's affection. Jax and Luna are different, they play together. One is usually chasing the other and they both seem to find the game fun.

Anyways, that's about all I have to say right now. Life is good, much better than last week.

God Bless our Troops

Love always,
For now and Forever,
Leah

four days left

I get married on Friday. Just four short days away. I can hardly believe how quickly this month has flown by and yet, why should I be surprised? A year seemed to drag but when what I wanted was close by and I had to prepare, it flew.

I asked Steve if he was scared and he said no. He said there was nothing to be afraid of. I think I rely on his confidence and faith in us almost as much as I rely on my own thoughts. He is my everything and I think sometimes I get so scared he'll back away.

He's my best friend and the one man I want the world with. We are dorks together, we are lovers, we are great parents and great partners. When it comes to who I trust above all else, it's him. He makes me believe that I'll never be alone, I'll never have to worry. That through the years, all of our dreams will come true and I believe him.

It's just my fears come from "ghosts" in my past. Guys who didn't treat me well, guys who lied, cheated, broke my heart, hurt me, pushed me away and made me feel insignificant. The fact that I now have someone totally the opposite scares me more than having an idiot like that. Because Steve matters more, because he could hurt me more than anyone. The fact that he doesn't want to, the fact that he loves me, the fact that we are getting married... it all makes me feel.. safe.

So I sit here, next to my love as he sleeps and I think... four days... four days until I am his wife. <3

And I can't wait.

Today I was born... 24 years ago

Older now than I was before, younger still than I plan to be.

It is my birthday. My twenty-fourth. I always dread my birthday but I was really looking forward to it. Until that is, Steve came home on Monday and told me he had Staff Duty. Now, I get to spend the day alone with the kids again. We postponed my birthday dinner until tomorrow. We are going for sushi. I LOVE sushi.

Today I'm just hanging out, doing laundry and watching Bones. Steve taught Jax how to say happy birthday to me and Jax gave me a kiss and told me happy Birthday, Lily told me right after that. It's the first year someone else cared enough to teach my kids that. Tonight, I am having a cake that I bought myself with the kids before I dye my hair blonde then red. I want it to be really bright. I hope it looks awesome too.

I can't wait until my wedding day... I have red and white roses as my bouquet, my daughter is wearing red and white, my son is wearing red, black and white, my HUSBAND is wearing his Dress Blues aka Class A's aka ASUs. My bridesmaids are wearing red and blue dresses (2 red, one blue) and everything will be beautiful.

My Chaplain signed off yesterday on everything. We went over the ceremony and he agreed to the scripture verse I wanted and the moment of silence in honor of my father.

He also told us that he has confidence in us as a couple. That we have a great chance of having a lengthy and loving marriage. I just about cried. However, I did cry later, when my neighbor, a retired Chaplain (he was shot six times once) brought by a wedding gift for us. It's a lighted chapel. He said that it signifies the commitment he sees in our eyes, for each other, the faith and love we share with eachother and God. I was so touched and had tears in my eyes.

No one can tell me that the Military isn't full of these amazing men. Former and Current. I'm sure the future generations will hold just as many wonderful people too.

Anyways, I have to go. But Happy Birthday to me :)

Much love,
For now and Forever,
Leah

My military life

I am blessed to be back in this life that I love. This life that I had almost put in my past forever. I am happy with the life that I am blessed to share with my soon-to-be husband, my children, my friends, my family.

I have really awesome friends. Becca and Pody are holding a dinner tonight for Catie and I. Our birthdays are very soon so they invited us over for a double birthday celebration. They are really awesome friends. We act like a family, a close-knit group that readily accepts a new person as one of their own.

I wish I could explain just how the military family works but there really aren't words. When you go through as much as we do, the friends and family of the servicemen and the servicemen themselves... you bond. You share a certain perspective on life and you share certain qualities. There are things that don't matter to us that matter to civilians and there are certain things that matter to us that a civilian would never even think about, because, let's face the facts, they will never have to endure them.

I was born a brat and lived as one for all of my youth, then I find a Soldier who I could't live without and I realize that my life was training for the next step. Being a brat is different than being a wife, however, being a wife is easier for me because I was a brat. If that makes sense. I know exactly what to expect, how this life works, how bonds are formed, how you can be one place one year and then a completely new place the next, forming the same sort of friendships you had in the previous location. Some people are good at that, some aren't. I consider myself lucky that I am able to find these amazing people, no matter where I am. The only time I have ever struggled was the time I spent in the civilian world, where everyone plays by their own rules, not conforming to a standard that respects the key values. For me, the military life is home. For me, that is where friends truly become family, where you become bonded with these people, like Becca and Pody, who make life seem better. 

I think back to two years ago. I had just found out my father was dead and I was struggling to keep together a relationship that in my heart of hearts I knew wasn't going to work. But now, two years later, I am back home, I have an amazing relationship with the man, who in twelve days will be my husband, and friends who are as close in my heart as family. I know where I stand. It might sound absurd, but the Military offers more than people think. It's not just the hardships we endure that make us stronger, but it's the good times, the fact we celebrate life as much as possible, possibly because life, for us, is more fragile. There is more chance that the hardships could strike again and there is nothing we can do to stop it. So we celebrate... birthdays, weddings, holidays, any day, really. We go out in groups, we take care of each other, we care. In this life, that is all we can do to survive and make a life worth remembering. We try to forget the bad parts and focus on what we have to smile about. That is one of our key strengths. Our ability to survive. 

Anyways, I'm going to go, but I just wanted to say how happy I am that this is my life again. How lucky I am to find my true love in this life. I wasn't living my life before. I am now. 

For now and forever,

Leah

Love

I sometimes find that I underestimate Steve. He really makes me happy, relieves my stress. I told him how much I was worried about him changing his mind. His answer: pull me into his arms and tell me that is never going to happen. I am the only woman for him. It made me tear up. I am absolutely in love and so amazingly blessed.

Tonight, he took us all out to dinner to the catfish junction. Let me say their alligator and catfish are amazing!!! During dinner, we talked about our vows and then I asked if I died would he remarry, his response was serious and steady. No, he would not. It took him so long to find me, he couldn't imagine trying to find anyone after me. That I have his heart until he dies. And he then told me that he would want me to but just like him, I can't imagine anyone ever measuring up to the man he is. Right after that, Jax had to go to the bathroom so our sweet moment was interrupted by a three year old boy who has, in reality, become Steve's little man. The two of them spend so much time together sometimes I just stare at the way my son looks at the man I love and know that in his innocent mind, that is his hero. Lily is just as in love with him. She gets sad when he leaves for work, despite my best efforts to make her smile. She gets so excited when he comes home. He always picks her up and hugs her while giving me a kiss and telling me he loves me. Then he grabs Jax and makes him giggle uncontrollably. They will never suffer from missing pieces, they have a wonderful step father. And I have an amazing lover who in 13 days will be my husband. Amazing!!!

Anyways, its late and I want to go cuddle next to my love and Luna the lunatic kitty.

For now and forever,
Leah

Sent from my HTC Inspire™ 4G on AT&T

I love my Soldier. He's coming home soon. But since I can't break OPSEC and say when, I'll just say that next Friday night I'll be cuddling with him instead of sitting alone updating my blog.

I am so glad this year is done. I need him home. I need to have my happiness... I deserve it. We deserve it. We love each other.

Guess what?

and I can't wait...

A beautiful for horse to carry my thoughts.

Maybe not for the first time, and I pray not the last, I received the most perfect gift I have ever been given. Yesterday, I received a package from Afghanistan. Some of Steve’s stuff he’s sending home early. In the box was his book collection (he’s an uber-nerd and I love it), a few random things, decks of cards, a card from a 6 year old boy and some paperwork. But also inside the box, a special surprise for me. It’s a beautiful leather-bound journal from Afghanistan. Handmade, clothlike paper, with the most beautiful design: a horse with an English saddle, beautiful patterns all over it repeating and bound together with a thick and strong string. To close it, the cover must be put down properly and the string wrapped around it a few times, looping it at the end to hold. The best part is that he wrote in it for me. I never asked for a journal and although I know he knows I write and search for the right thing to write in, I don’t think I fully expected the kind of heart he really has. This just proves it.

I’ve never had a guy before who really knows me. He knows that I love postcards from random places (I got another yesterday) and he knows that I love to write and read and that my dreams are more creative than practical. He knows I’m emotional and have issues and that I don’t really know a lot of things that other people know. He knows that I just dream of happiness and love and that if there are struggles in every other way, it’s ok. That I don’t need the fancy car or a ton of shoes (although I do have a boot thing going on), all that I really need is a book, a place to write, a camera (ok I really like my laptop and I like my phone, I’m was raised in the 90s, what do you expect?) and that it doesn’t bother me to sit outside in the middle of nowhere and just watch the clouds pass by. Sure, I am an adventurer, there is no other way to explain my life and my continued faith in a good outcome. I thrive with adventure as much as I enjoy being boring. I need a balance in my life. I feel I don’t get enough adventure anymore and when I do, the fix doesn’t seem to last as long anymore. I hope that changes.

Right now I’m riding the high of receiving the journal and the letter and postcard, He has a heart of gold and I hope I always keep that in mind and never forget and disappoint him. It’s my worst fear these days… I didn’t write this in my new journal because the words in there should be more beautiful. It’s so beautiful that everything in their should be an effort to create something beautiful, something lasting, something real and profound… I said an effort.

Well, I should go. Early morning “Mom” duties are calling. My kids should learn how to sleep in.

dreaming of the future for my children

I am made of love and dreams. I am made of hope and heartache. I am made of flesh and blood. I am made to be a mother. I am made to be a wife. I am made to be a leader in the fight for others. I believe I am made to be whatever I wish to be.

Today I am dreaming… My son turned 3 today and he’s so much a little boy, the idea of it alone seems fantastic and absurd. It seems as only yesterday he was in my arms for the first time, but, no, it’s three years since the morning he was born after intense labor and my anger issues out of control for the last hour of that. I remember cussing out the nurses and calling them names, I remember telling everyone in the room that I hated them and that I couldn’t do it. But at 5:45am, my son, Jaxon Michael Ray, was born into the world. He was placed into my arms and I breathed in his newborn scent and kissed him for the first time. My second-born but my first-born son, my angel. I was never more blessed then that moment, when I had not only my amazingly beautiful daughter, but also a son, strong and healthy, with all the potential to be anything he dreams…

My dreams for my son are not so fantastic, but may be more detailed than most. I’m not sure. I dream of my son growing up, proud to be an American boy, proud to be a Hero’s grandson as well as an Army brat. I dream of him playing football and finding his place on the field. I dream of him earning a scholarship and playing for Texas A&M until Graduation. I dream of him either playing for the NFL and hopefully the Redskins, but I’d bend to the Giants or Bears. If that doesn’t happen, I dream of him becoming an Officer in the American Military, either the US Army or the USMC. Don’t get me wrong, the USAF and USN are great, but I see my son as more of a fighter than someone who would sit behind a desk or fix things. He’s destructive and constructive, he’s brave and unafraid of anything already. I see so much potential for him to lead and become someone of great importance. It would be my absolute pride to raise a US Soldier or Marine. Nothing would make me more proud.  

Obviously, West Point is often on my mind for his college career. I don’t know what it would take but I’m starting to think about it. I want him to be successful as a person, as a student, as a leader of men. I want him to be happy and to continue to be fearless. It is his fearlessness that I most admire. I dream of him becoming someone of great strength and admirablity. Perhaps I am selfish, but my dreams for him are something I cannot control. I love my son and see the most amazing things.

My dreams for my daughter are different. I see her being more of a free spirit, which could be very concerning. She loves to draw and paint, she’s creative, she loves to dance and sort-of sing. I imagine she could play soccer and be really good at that. I did. I also think she could probably do something musical if she wanted. I know she’s got so much potential  as well.

My kids are my hope for the future. If I can raise two good, kind and decent human-beings, that would be my absolute lowest expectation. I want more for them. I want… no, I need them to be better than me. I have messed up so much in my life and my past is riddled with dark mistakes, but I have never broken my moral code or my own rules. Still, I don’t have rules for everything, so sometimes, I still mess up. And I want them to learn from my mistakes. I think I need them to. They deserve better than I ever had, or even feel like I deserve sometimes.  I have issues.

Anyways, I’m proud to have a son like mine. I hope he gets to have everything he dreams of, even if his dreams don’t match mine. I’ll be ok with that, as long as he’s happy. 

Dreaming

we talk about taking trips somewhere and I want to go everywhere with you....

to the ends of the earth... to the ends of the universe...

I want to be with you everywhere.

Because, you see, Darling, I'm madly in love with you.

Vultures circling

Shadows of thoughts are haunting me, teasing me with their whispers that I can’t quite make out. Yet I know they are there. I hear them inside my mind as I see their memories, glimpses and clips of what once was. The thoughts circling my mind like vultures in the sky, I know they will attack at any moment and force my sanity to run for cover, or what’s left of it, at least. All around me are weeds of bitter memories threatening to overtake the softer, more vulnerable parts of me,  the blossoms of hope where around it is desolation and loneliness.  

I was prepared for this life, you know. The constant moving and new people, rules and regulations, conformity among uniforms. I was a daughter, born and raised within the Military. A part of me always knew that I’d marry a Serviceman (and although my father was air force, I’d always been partial to Marines) but after a failed relationship with a Soldier and the loss of the only Marine I’d ever been able to love, I had given up that dream. I still expected my father to walk me down the aisle one day, but that day would never come.

On October 27^th, 2009, I had my entire life changed. That was the day my father, TSgt Charles T. Gose, died. Not even two years ago and every day I miss him. Every day I look at his flag that I received on my twenty-second birthday in Honor of his unfailing service. He was supposed to retire the next month. I remember when I got the news. I was so incredibly unprepared for it. I thought I died. In my heart, I suppose I did, at least for a while. I slept all day, not even caring about myself, only getting up to make meals and fix snacks and change diapers. I didn’t clean, I didn’t brush my hair and I didn’t eat for nearly a week.

At first, it was this cold, blinding pain. When a daughter loses her father, especially one who was always proud of him, who was planning his retirement surprise, who loved him beyond any other human (besides her own children), she doesn’t see it coming. The shock of it was the hard part. It came so close to my birthday (I was to turn twenty-two in just five days).  When the funeral was scheduled for my birthday, I didn’t even care. I’d lost the best man in my life, my Daddy, my one constant hero, no matter what. I know he loved me unconditionally and I lost so much of myself when I lost him.

 For six months I was so lost. I finally managed to make it back to my feet and back to being a mother, but at the time I was in an unhealthy relationship and that ended on March 1, 2010. When we ended, I was broken. I had lost my father and I’d lost the only man I relied on since and it hurt. But with encouragement from my friend, Kelsy, I started going on dates (nothing serious, just a few dates that led nowhere) and at the same time, I’d registered for a pen pal program with Military. Through that, I met my friend, Eric and my love, Steve. (I recently introduced Eric to my friend Megan and I see amazing things in their future).

 Steve was amazing, funny and smart; compassionate and caring; kind and generous; understanding and romantic. I really liked him from the start. He made me laugh and listened to me cry on days where I was upset and did his best to make me smile. In July, we met face-to-face and spent an incredible few days together, but he left and we made no promises except to write letters and consider each other.

He never stopped trying though. He sent flowers, a beautiful bouquet of white lilies, while I was preparing for my move back to the states. He wrote me letters and I wrote him back. He called me every week and we talked as much as possible, considering where he was. I told him that I would wait for him and that I had been without the promise and he was so happy.

In January, after Lily’s fourth birthday, we had R&R, which was absolutely amazing. We decided then that I would move to Louisiana and be settled for when he came home, despite his previous feelings of not wanting to live with a woman he wasn’t married to. (Which leaves me wondering…  when… if?) When he drove back to the airport (he rented a car) and we said our goodbyes, we were both in tears. I couldn’t fight them off. I’d finally told him I loved him during our time together. And it hurt so much to let him go that I held on to him for over  an hour. It broke my heart to know he was just not there beside me anymore. I went back inside and I cried until a friend stopped by.

In March, I moved to Louisiana and it took a long time to get my furniture and with two kids 4 and under, it was the toughest move of my life. All alone and nothing in my house to keep them busy. A month later, my stuff finally arrived and April was a month of insanity to me, missing him, trying to get a life started here, picking up a creepy stalker instead. I spent my time alone, doing schoolwork and playing with my kids, mostly instead.  I also got attacked by some crazy bitch in April.

May brought Steve’s promotion and news of Osama Bin Laden’s death on the same day. I planned a playdate (which I will do again as soon as I feel better) and overall things improved a little. Except that I started feeling rundown.

Now it’s June and I really still feel sad. Memorial day weekend brought my Father’s death back into focus and I spent the whole weekend crying randomly.  My son turns three on Tuesday which is also bizarre to me. 

Next month is my first 4^th of July in the states since 2004. And it feels sad to think that I’m celebrating it with no one. My father is gone and my mother… well, needless to say the day my father died, she did to. (deep thoughts). My brothers and friends are scattered across this world with the Military and Steve is deployed.  I do have my children who will happily celebrate a holiday they get their face-painted and balloons from. Plus the fireworks should be visible from the house (or so Steve says). Other things are happening next month, including me going insane preparing for his homecoming. I wish he was here already so I didn’t have all that time to think and over-analyze and worry and fear. 

So soon the Knight in his dirtied camo armor will return to his redneck duchess in faded denim and flannel. He’ll come back from war, alive and safe, unharmed, to a household full of people who love him. The young princess sleeps with the picture of her Knight and her brother and the young prince is ready to give up his role as man-of-the-house to him. Their mother, his love, waits and every night sleeps alone, until he comes back home, back to her arms. She will finally feel safe and loved again soon, when his arms are folded around her and she hears his heart beat. Soon the Knight will return from war to a family awaiting him.

And I’m scared, because I've been through so much pain already and I finally found the one man who accepted all my flaws and faults, helped encourage me to gain my confidence, allowed me time to heal and come to grips on what happened before him. And now, my worst fear is that he won’t love me anymore….

The vultures come full circle, snacking on these feelings like field mice. I sit quietly here, alone, with these thoughts and so many more left unsaid, in the safety of the darkness the words hide from that which would destroy the remnants of my sanity.

I am yours.

It doesn't matter how you started, What matters is how you will finish.

I'm hoping the rest of my life is better than it is now. I hope that the best of my past is the worst of my future.... Do you think that's even possible? Steve says it is... I believe him... or I want to believe him. He'll be home soon. In about 2 and a half months... I hope anyways... I just hope he knows I love him as much as I do, which for me is inexplicable. <3

I love my Soldier always, not for a single moment has that changed. 

I am always going to be in love with you.

Thank you for loving me too.