I can't even title this.

Let me just start this blog with the fact that I may be changing up my blogging style soon. I am not really sure actually, I know that I've been blogging for what seems like the majority of my life (well, since Xanga and we all know how long ago that was, ummm 9th grade?! So 2001-2, so about 10 years.) and I feel like I've always been lacking something. Well today, I have thought about it and I'm going to be creating a new blog, importing all my old blog entries and starting over with the design and all that because... well I want to.

Anyways, maybe part of this happened because of Jenny Lawson. You don't know who Jenny Lawson is???  She is, without a doubt, my new hero. Steve says that I'm obsessed but since I don't know her personally, I'll just have to go with very, very interested in her work, not her. I don't know her, so I'm not a psycho-stalker. You have to know someone in person to be a psycho-stalker. But I digress. What is important is why Jenny Lawson has become a common name my wonderfully accepting husband can recognize.

I just bought "Let's Pretend This Never Happened" by Jenny Lawson. She is the author of that wonderfully funny and weirdly cute blog called the Bloggess. Well, I've only managed to get through the first three chapters so far, because I started reading it outloud to my husband. And now it's become a bonding experience. Kind of like "Look at how fucked up this woman lived and see, I'm not so weird now because there's someone else who thinks the Zombie Apocolypse is no laughing matter. Well, he finds it more off-the-wall funny than relatable like I do, but either way, me reading to him like he was a blind, old man in a retirement home is actually a very beautiful bonding moment. Anyways, the book. I love it. I think it's actually seeping into my head and making me think that my every thought is worth sharing. Like, this morning I tried to pinch my husband's nipple and I did but I pulled and he swore that I would pull it off but I told him they sell replacements online, and the Army doesn't care if he's one nipple short anyways, but again, I digress. Read "Let's Pretend This Never Happened," By Jenny Lawson aka the Bloggess. Super funny and totally going to offend. :)

Anyways, I have become completely obsessed with sharing my every thought with my husband who I'm thinking is now afraid to be alone with me, judging by the fact that while I'm upstairs blogging, he's down in the garage, gaming on his laptop, hiding from me. Not that this is new, actually, it's not new at all. He's always down there when he has time off work, unless I ask him to hang out with me. But still, I think now he's truly worried about my sanity or his safety or perhaps both. I can't be sure.

Also today, I made a discovery: Apparently, my dog likes candy. But not just the candy, the wrappers too. I found this out by discovering a pile of poop with candy wrappers inside of the poop. I'm a little jealous. I can't process wrappers quite so well. I'm not even upset by him stealing my pez or my chocolate. At first I was worried that the chocolate would kill him but then he took a big dump in the side yard, so I knew he'd be fine. I am jealous that while he can have all this candy and the wrappers too, he doesn't seem to gain weight or have a problem with choking or digesting said wrappers. Unfair if you ask me. I know you didn't, that's why I'm sharing!!!


I'm also doing laundry today, because that's what Moms are for, although I think it is kind of pointless. I mean, not the washing or drying of the laundry, that has a point. It becomes clean and wearable again without getting weird looks in public or having people whisper behind your back about how you smell funny or having Child Welfare called on you because your kids are in clothes that have never be washed. Always wash your clothes. That's important. It's the other thing that's pointless.I hate putting away laundry. I know we're all going to wear it again so it seems a waste to fold it and put it away. Especially since I'll pull out half of everything I own in a day to find something to wear and then just leave it there until it gets washed again or I find something I want to wear a few days from the first day I pull it out. And my kids always end up pulling most everything they own out while showing me what they want to wear, which makes me crazy because then I either have to put it away again, or just pretend it got worn and throw it in a laundry basket. I will not admit to what I actually do. 


Anyways, I'm folding laundry and every member of my household has more underwear in this load than I do. Which means, my family wears underwear every day. But I'm curious about other people. I'm curious whether other people wear underwear. I do and I don't. It depends on what I'm wearing. If I wear a skirt or dress, yes, I do. But if I put on a pair of jeans, I don't. I think this is economical. Like you save money washing underwear and also, this means you need less pairs between laundry days. Also, I don't like panty-lines. But it's ok sometimes, like if I'm wearing short-shorts, then I like to say "yes, my jean shorts look like boys underwear but really, I am wearing a real pair underneath." So, this leaves me curious of whether other people wear underwear. And I don't know why this is what I'm curious about today. I guess I just don't care enough to know who you will vote for or if you are eating healthy or if that one little kid your friend knows finally got that marble unstuck from his nose. No, my concern is your underwear wearing cycles.


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




Oh wait, it's not. I have something else. 


I bought the world's best 99 cent kindle book:::::::


"Bedtime Stories for Children You Hate"... I might cry from being so excited to read these to my husband as we go to sleep... I may also read these to my kids when they are bad or make me crazy... (Ok, mostly kidding about reading them to my children, I hate when they have nightmares. I have to get up and make them feel better and then I'm just sooo tired the next day so I better skip reading these to them and just focus on giving my husband nightmares. He can comfort himself, or if not, at least I don't have to get up.)


Ok, that's it. This is what makes me happy and I'm going to work on the new blog design and post the link sometime soon... When I get to it. I've been busy. Life is a busy busy thing. Also I hope that none of my husband's future commanders read my blog, otherwise, I think the might be concerned that my husband is living with a lunatic. I'm not crazy. As Sheldon says, My mother had me tested. 

I'm feeling better with a Devils win!!!

If you don't know this about me, you should know I'm a hockey fan. Like a huge one. My team: New Jersey Devils! Yes, I am a proud member of the Devil Army and I am a huge fan (maybe even bigger than of the team itself) of Martin Brodeur, the goalie of the Devils. Well, tonight my team is in the playoffs against our biggest rivals the Philadelphia Floaters (Flyers, I really hate them). And we won!!!! It was a huge win too! 4 to 1 and an awesome win. All 4 points were earned in the 3rd period and it was epic. I can't say this enough, but Hockey is my favorite sport of all time, only followed by Soccer and Football. Then Baseball. But Hockey, well... there's nothing like it. The fierceness, the endurance, the strength, the talent... Hockey is a game where you'll see some of the most aggressive action in the world and the most fights on the Ice and then you'll see the best teamwork and the most graceful actions by men that you wouldn't consider graceful anywhere else. And Martin Brodeur, well he's the best goalie in History. Seriously, 3 Stanley Cups, 2 Olympic Gold Medals and countless broken records under his belt. Plus he's one of the few players who made a career out of ONE team. I am an adoring fan and wish with all my heart I could see him play. A part of me is hoping that it'll be St. Louis vs Devils just so I can go to a game here. I really hope so.

Anyways, I'm stoked about the win, but I'm also excited because for the first time in almost a week, I'm feeling better. I'm not sure how it happened. I think it's just things felt so bad that there was no where to go but up. So I went forward and one thing led to another and everything came together to make me feel better. Steve wanted to go out to dinner tonight and got a call from the Library. Guess who left his ID card in a computer? Yep, my husband! Haha. So I had to drive him on Post to grab it. And then we left the coupons for dinner at home so we drove by the Hub (German restaurant here that I love!) and it was closed and as we were looking for a place, I saw a steak house and we decided to stop. My God, the food was great! Colton's is what the place was called and we had a great dinner. And we had fun. It's been a lot of down time lately that having actual fun kind of surprised me, but we did. And I'm glad. We needed it.

So all in all, a Devil's win and a great night with my family made for an amazing evening here. and I'm happy. I just hope tomorrow holds the same minus the hockey part because I don't care who wins tomorrow's games. Devils play on Thursday. :)

Much love. 

Just a random rambling post

In the quiet of the night, I feel the most at peace. 

Not a sound, not even a whisper of anyone else awake... 

Sometimes that's when I feel the most alive, in the dead of the night.

I just spent the whole night doing things that I wasn't able to get done yesterday (It's 330 on Tuesday Morning). But beyond doing what needed to be done, I took a bath in this milk bath stuff I got today (and it felt oh-so-good to sit in the tub with steaming hot water, candles burning and a good book in my hand). I also cleaned my pores for the 2nd time this week (I'm really trying to make my skin stay youthful longer now) and then braided my hair so it won't get into a mess after I finally close my eyes. I also managed to fill out all the paperwork needed for the Army...

Ah, the Army. What a pain in the ass it was today. (Let me say this before I begin my ... bitch fest::: I love the Army. I love the Military. I'm so proud to be an Army wife and to be the daughter of a true American Hero and I am so honored to be among the 2% of the population that deals with this life every day, all day but sometimes, it can get on your nerves.) Steve had to go for his SRP and do a few other in-processing things. First, we stopped by Tricare and registered (finally got the SSN thing worked out, for the longest time my care was still under my father's instead of my husband's and now it's finally fixed). Then we went to lunch before he went back for his finance briefing and while he did that I went to the commissary (grocery shopping time, which went very well). Well, he texts me and says it'll take a few hours, so I start to head off post, only to have him call me and ask me to turn around, that he'll be done in five or ten minutes. Well twenty minutes later, I call him and ask him what's up. He tells me he's doing his SRP and that I should go drop the groceries off (I was in the parking lot waiting for him), so I go home (and almost got killed by some dumbass driver who decided the road was a great place to stop and reverse when I was right behind him, I avoided being hit by less than 2 feet, not comforting.) So I drop off all the refrigerated and freezer stuff because he tells me "Hearing test then done." So I rush and then he calls me while I'm on my way back to post. "It'll take a little while longer." By this time it's already been 2 hours or so. So the kids and I head to the PX just to see what's for sale. I ended up getting two books and some gummy candies from Germany (Haribo rocks!!) and he texts me "Almost done" So I tell him ok, let me pay, I'll head over and pick you up. This is at 1600. I drive over and park and say I'm waiting and he texts me and says almost done again. So I wait. A half hour later, he is actually done and walks out of the building. His excuse was that they didn't tell him it'd take so long but I had already assumed it would. So I guess my aggravation today was mixed between the Army's in-processing and his constant "Almost done" thing.

Anyways, I finally make it home and unload the rest of the groceries, send him out for sushi and around 1945 the kids are in jammies and head to bed. So I washed the bath tub and soaked for a while before showering and when I got out. I felt so much better, less stressed. Then I chilled for a bit before I started cleaning randomly. The kitchen is spotless again. Papers that we needed filled out are filled out completely except the parts I don't know with post-its on each page so he knows what I need him to do before turning it in.

And at 330, I finally got ready for bed. I guess this post was kind of pointless but it's the middle of the night and I ramble then. Much love.

Find myself

I sometimes think your past needs to visit you every so often just so you can remember who you used to be, why you were that way, what you wanted then and how different it all is to who you are now, why you are you now, and what you want now.

Lately, I've been remembering a lot, from my time in Germany to now and the memories, they don't fade quietly into the background like we all seem to think they should but rather sit in the back of your mind, biding their time to when a song or a food or a moment allows them to come rushing back. It starts with one but eventually they all come flooding back. From the time you were picked up for that first date with that first guy you really liked and the song on the radio captures that moment and whenever you hear it, you are back in that car with that boy and no matter how many times you hear it, it will always represent that boy. Or when you eat a meal at a restaurant, one you'd eaten so many times without realizing what it meant and then you remember the days where you sat with your Dad in some restaurant somewhere eating and talking and you just fall apart because you miss him. Or when you smell the fresh cut grass and you are back to being seventeen, laying on the lawn of a castle in some foreign country with the guy you love holding you as you talk about a future moment. When a breeze hits you the right way and you're a few years older and wiser than you were at seventeen but still a fool with your heart and you remember that guy that you were friends with first and then messed it all up by being in a relationship... and you can't help but remember the friendship and miss that because even though the relationship sucked, the friendship was good.

So I've been remembering moments of my life. Moments that matter and made so much of my life matter and brought me to this moment in time. I don't regret a single mistake or bad decision because at least I put myself out there. At least, I tried to find things that mattered and tried to find a life that made sense, even if it turned out badly and even if the choices of my past didn't work out the way I'd hoped because I found a better life. I found my life. I just need to find myself again.

Sometimes, the past is still in your life. Like that ex boyfriend who became more of a friend to you than most of your so-called friends back in the day. Like a girl you barely spoke to in high school but who suddenly transformed into one of your best friends. Like the pictures of people you don't even remember their names but sit in a small box that for some reason you can't bare to throw away. Sometimes, the past helps you remember who you were and reminds you how you got to where you are now. So you reach out to someone you haven't talked to in a while and you try to make peace, only to have that door slammed in your face with an insult to go with it and you get sad for a while but you remember that  you were reaching out for yourself and they aren't ready and probably never will be ready for that "forgive and forget" moment you read about in books. Sometimes, the person you never wanted to hear from again reaches out to you and you must make that choice: do you forgive them and forget the past and make new memories or do you cling to the hurt and the bad memories because for some reason letting go of something negative like that is hard and seems almost impossible to imagine that any good could come out of it. Well, I've done both those sometimes this week with members of my past. I reached out to someone who slammed the door on me and let me know that he wasn't interested without actually speaking to me and I've let someone in that I had bad feelings about for a long time based on mutual idiocy of youth. I don't regret reaching out and I don't regret forgiving, it means that I've grown into someone who deserves the life I have now.

I love my life now, married to a wonderful man who loves me and needs me in his life and puts up with my annoying quirks and lets me be myself, even if sometimes, I'm not entirely sure who that is yet, with two wonderful children who love me and make me so crazy happy, I want to burst sometimes. But sometimes, you just have to remember and remember that before you were a mother and a wife, you were a person of your own caliber, with your own identity and your own meaning to it all. And I've started to realize that I miss me. 

Yes, I love being a mother. My kids mean more than anything to me. I would do anything for them, I've done everything for them. I've sacrificed so much of myself to let them have the best I could offer and I did it without question because they are my children. I love when they wrap their little arms around me and say four little words that fill my heart with so much love that it breaks: "I love you, Mommy."

And I love being a wife to my husband. He's my best friend and is the most wonderful man with the most beautiful qualities a person can possess: humility, strength, dignity, courage, honor, honesty, love.  He makes us his first priority and does something with his life that I couldn't imagine having more worth. He's also one of the smartest people I've ever known (Takes his last Final before his Master's degree sometime over next week). He makes me laugh, which for me is the number one quality a man can have because I get stuck in my own head so much, he can actually take me out of it. And I will continue to make sacrifices for him too, because he'll make sacrifices for our Country and that's what our life together will always have in it: a duty to each other and our Country. He's a Soldier and I'm his wife and we will stick together throughout any sacrifice that is needed, even if we are separated by distance of body, our hearts are connected always. And I will always be proud to be his wife, because of who I was so lucky to marry.

It's just that sometimes, I miss myself. I miss knowing what I liked to do when I was alone, which I haven't been in so long with two kids and a husband. I miss hanging out with friends and talking about things that range from the stupid to the real. I miss going to a small little record store and finding an album that I'd never even heard of and listening to it as I explored a new place and saw different things. I miss spending time looking at the stars after a night of partying with friends alone on my balcony. I miss who I was when I was with friends and could just be me, Leah, a girl who didn't have labels.

I don't regret becoming a mother, but lately, the reminders of the past have reminded me that I need to find out who I am aside from mother and wife. I'm not willing to give up either of those two things, but I want me again. I need to take time for my art and for my music and for me. I need to discover who I am now. And all I know about myself these days is that I am a damn good mother and a damn good wife and those always come first but when you put so many things in front of yourself, where do you fit in?

I don't want to sound like I'm complaining, which is what I'm sure I sound like, but I know others go through this too and I just wonder how they managed to find themselves after they got lost in the wife and mother roles. How did they find out who they were outside of their families?

How do you find yourself when you'd forgotten you for so long that you've forgotten everything about yourself? 

Early Easter (pre move)

Well, I've been super busy (thus my lack of blogging over the past couple of weeks or so... I honestly don't remember the last time I blogged). We move in less than 8 days and I still have so much to do, but I did take the time out this weekend to celebrate Easter early, since I want my kids to have some "normal moments" while being Army Brats, like they should have.

Last night, we had my friend Hobo over for dinner and some beers. I'm going to miss having him so close. He's my oldest friend here (of 8 years) and I won't know anyone at the next post. He's going to come over next weekend for our goodbyes... again.

This morning we had an Easter egg hunt and Lily did better than Jax but they each got 6 chocolate covered marshmellow eggs, one bunny (chocolate, not real!!) and some peeps along with starter fishing poles and frisbees and stickers. Jax got a pez dispencer and Lily got a Bible that I highlighted passages in.

Then we spent the day with the kids outside, me blasting music getting things done and Steve at our storage container, taking pictures of our things before the movers move them. Then we had dinner, sauted scallops, a creole seasoned pork roast done in red wine with veggies, rolls and homemade gravy (out of the red wine/pork juice liquid). It was delish! After dinner, Steve did the dishes (yep, sexy, right?) while I painted eggs with Lily. Jax had such a poor attitude at dinner and was too tired to do anything so he went to bed.

Now, I'm relaxing and trying to figure out what the week holds for me. It's going to be a busy one, that's for sure. Another vet appointment for Luna and Lily has her follow-up with the Dentist (it's all done for her). Our household goods get packed up on Friday and moved on Monday, so we're thinking of having a last bbq with the friends we have here. Just one last hooah with the good people at Fort Polk.

We are going camping on our "vacation" between here and Fort Lost-in-the-Woods and to St. Louis. We got fishing poles and sleeping bags and tents and I've packed up our suitcases already, our first aid kit, I have the kids toys together that we're taking, the pet's things together, including both their kennels and since they are microchiped I have the card for their microchipping too.

I've also been having weird dreams. Last night, I had one where I was pregnant but back in high school... only it wasn't my high school. It was weird. The school nurse was the doc on Stargate SG1 and the counselor was our chaplain here. Steve was there but he was "17" in my dream and I was my own age. Like I said, weird.

Anywho... below are the pictures from today and a few others that I loved. :)

Love,
Leah

Finally, a good boring day!

I am a writer, at least I hope I am. I know being a blogger isn't the same thing but it's something. Not to mention that I've been attempting to write a novel for quite a while now. Sometimes I barely think I've written anything but then others I feel accomplished. But what Sylvia Plath said, how you can never write anything the way you want to, it's true...

Anyways, today was rather uneventful, thankfully. I woke up to Beau, as I normally do, and he'd broken a soya sauce bottle (bad dog!) and my son had spilled his cereal bowl. So I cleaned all that up, relaxed most of the morning and did some laundry. Today was a good day for the relaxing. I needed it considering the amount of pain I've been in lately.

Other than that, I just hung out with my babies (all four of them), watched Crossing Jordan on Netflix (still am) and continued reading City of Bones on my kindle. It's been a very good day in my book, a much needed good day. Every day has had something bad in it... last week was the infuriating army wife drama and my dental surgery and this week was finding out the dentist made a mistake and having to endure a rather awful day. So today being restful and relaxing was appreciated.

Tomorrow Luna and Beau have a vet appointment, which Steve is taking them to. For Luna, she needs her shots and her microchip. Beau needs a few other things. He needs to be dewormed, his shots, his microchip and I need to find out his exact age and to see if the 40 or so ticks that we've found (we found a few the other day and gave him another tick treatment) have done any damage to him.

I did discover that Beau definitely loves me and has no inclination to run off anymore. He likes when I let him out in the yard and when he comes in he gets treats. :) He also loves to sit on my feet during the day and he always lays near me at night. It's really sweet. And tonight, when I went to check on an injured cat (I heard it howling and Steve had mentioned that he'd passed one while walking Beau but it didn't seem hurt at the time, it wasn't there), he'd gone out to the front of the house and waited for me. Steve said he didn't even try to run. :) :)

Love,
Leah

PS. Photos above are too cute not to share. :)

Dentists suck

So I finally found out why I have had a much harder time with this last surgery and it's because the dentist left half a tooth in my gums where he was supposed to extract. Yea, what a guy! The worst part is I wasn't even premeded when he poked me seven times with a needle to numb me up and I have a severe phobia of needles.

See, most people look at my tattoos and assume I can take needles but what un-tattooed people fail to realize is that tattoos aren't really needles, they are more of a needle pen, like a safety pin scratching at a few lays of skin and putting dye in it's place. And for all seven of my tattoos, including my rib piece, none of them hurt quite as badly as having seven needles inserted into my mouth stone-cold-sober. I cried. I'll admit it, I broke down and had a serious cry, right there in the dentist chair while they waited for the numbing to set in. Finally after two hours, I was free to go home with more stitches (this time the dissoluble kind) and just as much pain as last Monday, which seriously hurt like hell. I'm in alot of pain but to make matters worse::

We left Beau alone at the house for the first time and he made a horrible mess of things. He broke my two ornamental glass pepper jars (the ones where the peppers are stored in vinegar) causing my kitchen to reek, tore apart some blinds in my bedroom, killed my fish (Rest in peace, Brodeur and Rudy, I'll get your "sons" when we move) and broke my alarm clock. I was furious, of course and put him in the kennel for over an hour while I cleaned. You can bet your ass that the next time we leave the house, that is exactly where he is going.

I want to keep Beau still, nothing could really change my mind there, but I won't have a dog ruining my home or my things, that is where I have to draw the line, but if I can prevent his treacherous behavior in the future, I have no problems with keeping him. After all, the guilt of putting him into a shelter would be far too great.

Anyways, Steve feels pretty bad for me today, knowing I got no sleep last night and knowing I have a showing in about 10 minutes on the house and feeling the way I do. He was sweet and took the kids to the park so I could just deal with Beau and Luna and still that seems like alot when I add the fact that I'm not comfortable with strangers being in my house at all. Especially when all I want to do is crawl into bed and hide from the world. I am desperate to go to sleep and get out of pain.

Anyways, that's all for now.

Leah.

Weekend of March 8th

Well this weekend has been interesting to say the least. Steve and I finally managed to have a decent talk and it only took him blowing up over the smallest thing.

I know we love each other and I know we are both stressed out and worried about everything that has been going on, each for our own reasons. The thing is, we don't fight. I know that sounds made up but for us, it's really true. I think we've had two or maybe three fights in our entire two years together. We have disagreed and one of us has been mad at the other but we've never really had a fight that results in me crying because he's a jerk... but this weekend we did and although we made up, the fact that we have fought at all hurts and makes me question how people bounce back from that first serious fight. How do you pretend that the person you love didn't say all those awful things? How do you pretend that you didn't hear them, that they didn't cut your heart?

You see, we're different when we get mad or are stressed. I talk about everything. I make sure that my feelings are known unless I'm not sure, then I think about it until I am and let people know after. Steve is different. He holds it in until he starts saying things that cut little by little. And I, often let the little comments go, but when he blows up... like he did, I first fight back and then when I'm on the verge of saying something I don't mean, saying something hurtful, I stop myself. I walk away until I've cooled down. Now whether or not he meant what he said, which I don't believe he did, the words are still stuck in my head... the argument was unfair and he was actually mean.

Part of why I fell in love with Steve, part of why I married him is how we have always been able to talk things out before we fight. In fact, before this, I would say he was entirely incapable of fighting or saying mean things, but now I know that's not true. Now I know he forces himself not to. I love him, with all my heart and I've never loved someone more than I love him. But today, it made me realize that I married a man who does share some qualities I hated in others, but the key to me still loving him as much as I always have was also realizing that he doesn't want to be like that and 99.9% of the time, he's not, but today that .1% came out and reared it's very ugly head.

Steve and I ended up talking about it after, once he realized he was wrong and that all the things he said were unfair, unwarrented and uncalled for. He apologized and told me he loved me and that he would try to let me in before he got to that point again. A part of me still wonders how he even got there. I have known for a while that he was stressed out and try as I might to get him to talk, he just wouldn't. I begged him to talk to me on Saturday night and he finally said some things and while they hurt me, I was relieved because he was talking. I knew he was exhausted so I made him finish what he was doing for the house and sent him to bed while I stayed up and deep cleaned the majority of the house.

Sunday morning, I woke up to him being mad and overwhelmed. The only thing I hadn't managed to get done was the dishes but that's because I'd taken a long hot shower at about 3am and was exhausted and couldn't finish. I'd cleaned the livingroom and the kitchen, including under the stove and the laundry room in addition to doing most of the laundry in the house, I'd left the dishes to be done in the morning, right before we showed the house since everything else was done, the kids rooms had been cleaned during the day and our room has been clean for a while (surprise!) so I figured one quick thing in the morning, no big deal. Well, he blew up and said hurtful things, mostly about how I didn't do what I was supposed to do and that he shouldn't have gone to bed because clearly I needed his help along with a few other things. I finally told him all that I did and he said "I'm sorry but..." For me, that means I'm not sorry because... I went outside and ignored him as I cried. I got dressed and made sure the kids beds were made before we had to leave the house (we had a house showing at 1130).

I really didn't talk to him until after we'd gone to the park with the kids and Beau (who is doing better by the way, very happy and healthy). I had taken my camera and took pictures of the kids and him and Beau. Halfway through we sat down and just talked. He apologized for going off on me, saying that he realized how he was wrong and that he was thankful for all I got done. I told him I needed him to talk to me before he did something like that again because I'm just as stressed out and I don't want to be mad at him, he's my best friend.

The day got better from there. We put Beau in the back of the truck and got the kids in and went and got Crawfish and Shrimp for lunch. It was good. After we ate lunch, it stormed bad and flooded our backyard, luckily that drains into the street so it wasn't bad. We all took a nap and relaxed. Dinner came and went and I fell asleep really early causing me to be awake at 1am and now it's 4am.

We have the movers coming in 4 1/2 hours, I have my follow-up dental appointment (thank God, the pain is worse than before) and then the kids have to get shots (oh that'll be fun). Beau and Luna (who are fortunately getting along now) have their vet appointments on Wednesday morning. Beau is getting dewormed (we've noticed they haven't gone away yet) along with his shots and Luna is getting her shots and scheduled for a neutering. Both are getting microchipped. Thursday, Lily has dance class, which I'm glad for, because she loves it.

There's only 22 days until we leave, but the good news is that the people looking at the house seemed to like it and we're hoping for an offer this week. Wish us luck. That'll make my husband alot less stressed and will make my life so much easier.

Anyways, I should try for a couple more hours of sleep. Hopefully, Steve and I are back to good terms, if I could only get what he said out of my head, because I know he's sorry but I know myself and once the words are there, once they resemble ghosts of boyfriends past, I tend to keep them and how they hurt me to myself. I know he doesn't read my blog because he says he doesn't have to, but sometimes I wish he would, because when weakness strikes I find myself more comfortable to telling strangers than I do telling the one person I love more than anything how he has hurt me.

Anyways, I'm out.

22 more days.

A sad and boring day

Today wasn't very exciting, but I'm pretty glad for that. It wasn't very good either, which seems like has been happening too much lately.

It started off okay enough. Beau woke me up by stepping on me while I was in bed and then Steve woke me up by yelling at Beau for chewing on one of Lily's toys. Frustrating but he's just getting comfortable. It'll take him a little longer than three days to learn the house rules.

After I got up, Steve and I talked about random stuff and he went to work, only to come home a little while later because he forgot his phone. We had coffee together and talked about what we have to do this weekend. Too much.

Beau and Luna have been fighting today which is frustrating too. Luna hisses at him and Beau barks at her, causing her to take a clawed swipe at him. At least, she's not mad at me for bringing the dog into our home... A part of me thinks Steve is not so happy about it.

After he left again, it was almost lunchtime for the kids so I fed them lunch, played around on RBL asking very random questions. The reason I ask the questions in case someone doesn't know and is one of my members reading this: I love getting to know you. I love knowing that you each have these lives that are worth knowing about. I read the answers and I give my own. It's a good thing for me because I am often alone at home during the day with only my children and Steve has homework or other work to get done at night, so I'm pretty bored sometimes and having the connection with others is nice. :)

I also talked to one of my best friends today, which was nice. We talked about how she might be getting a dog soon (she's been wanting one just like me and might have found the perfect fit). And about what happened yesterday and how I've worked to resolve that.

Later, when Steve came home from work, he brought me my prescription (it had run out and I'm still in pain from the surgery, so I called to get more and he picked them up) and had bought me ice cream :) Then we watched an episode of the TROOP where I was an extra back in 2009 or so. It was pretty cool to see myself on TV. I've never watched anything I've extra-ed on before.

But then Beau escaped the yard (he's been kind of bullheaded today and been frustrating both Steve and I, but I'm sure I have more patience for him than Steve does) and I had to run to get him. Then I told Steve that he had to put his tools somewhere besides the top of our extra-large dog kennel (for timeout for Beau, it had originally been the puppy we got last summer's training cage but he died of Parvo after only a week) so we could put Beau in when he did something bad, a nonviolent form of discipline. He got irritated with me and then started moving stuff around.

Needless to say I went into the bedroom, where I am now writing this blog because I'm frustrated completely. I don't like when Steve and I are like this. We are best friends most of the time but after the past week, we're both completely frustrated and instead of talking, he gets quiet and moody and acts like there is nothing wrong, which I know there is and when he does that I get mad and ignore him. I know, childish, but it's better than fighting,  and even though I know we'll probably talk it through soon, it's bothering me that I can't talk to him right now.

So now I'm about to go to bed, close my door, turn on Crossing Jordon on Netflix and read my book until sleep mercifully takes me into the dreamland where everything is stress-free and where things are good. At least, I hope so. I hope there are no nightmares tonight. ... there were last night.



24 days until we PCS and I can't wait.

Love,
Leah

Drama never stops

So today was a bad day. I won't go into too much detail but I had more bullshit petty army wife drama to deal with. It was the same shit I had to go to Family advocacy about. The worst part is that I just had my surgery on Monday so I was in pain and then when people I didn't want at my house showed up, I was scared (and pain and fear = anger for me), so I got mad and used my anger to make me feel stronger. And since I was angry, I wasn't open to what was happening and might have made things a tiny bit worse than I intended. The only good part was that my husband came home and we had all our ducks in a row. He helped me calm down and answer all these people's questions. I was so angry though and basically went off on this woman for being cold-hearted (She told me that my surgery or the pain I was feeling didn't matter, her words). They told me that I have to take my kids to see a doctor. Well, you dumbass bitch, I do that anyways, like on Monday when they have shots again! I also have an appointment for my daughter in Alexandria on March 20th!  When they finally left, I broke down. I cried and hugged Beau. Steve took Lily to dance class and promised to bring home pizza for dinner. After he left, I called my best friend and told her what happened. She was with me in spirit, because sadly, she's too far away to be here in person. I'm so glad I was able to talk to her about the whole thing. I wouldn't be able to handle all that has been going on without her or Steve. Between the two of them, they keep me going and keep me smiling (along with my babies, all four of them :P)

See, Steve and I make a great team in anything we do. Where I'm over-emotional, he's calm and steadfast. Where I am more creative, he's more practical. And today, his calmness was necessary and my anger was an obstacle.



What I don't understand, and probably never will, is the extent of how truly low people get. I mean, I should know by now it happens, but for some reason, that always escapes me. Maybe I'm too naive or maybe I have just seen so much evil that I search for the good in everyone and that one good quality I find, blinds me to the reality of them. After all, I was kidnapped, I was abused, I have gone through emotional pain that I wouldn't wish on anyone. My biological father kidnapped me and abandoned me with strangers just to keep me from my mother, but she didn't treat me any better than he did when I was finally given back to her (after almost 4 years).  I was an abused child, beaten and emotionally torn apart by my mother. I was the pawn in a war between my grandmother and her. My father (my step-father, but real father of my heart) was the only person who gave me love in my house as a child and he didn't know until my late teens what was going on and by then, he was a full-blown alcoholic, incapable of stopping it. I was beat by a boyfriend or two (like I said in a previous blog, I've made mistakes) and I have been cheated on. I lost the only parent I ever had that loved me and have no connection to my biological parents at all.

Maybe the fact that I've seen so much bad, lived through so much hell, is the reason I never expect it anymore. Actually, I thought had ended when I married Steve. Maybe that was also naive to believe. But everything was so much better with him. He knew all my scars and he knew all my pain. He never used it against me or made me feel like it made me a bad person. If anything, he saw that my past makes me more compassionate, more willing to see the good in everyone, even people I don't like. He knows that I love animals because they aren't mean by nature, that I have to have a pet otherwise my heart hurts (yep, I really feel depressed without something to pet and love on and get unconditional love from). Luna became mine because my old cat (Riot) disappeared and I couldn't find her anywhere. I was so depressed. So he let me adopt Luna. When Beau came, he knew he wasn't getting out of us keeping him unless someone claimed him and no one has.

He knows that I can't even spank my kids because it makes me feel horrible. I never want to be my mother. I would kill myself first. Even the moments where I yell at them, I feel like I'm too much like her. I spend time with my kids. I encourage their activities. I want them to be themselves. I spoil them. I was never really spoiled by my mother and if it weren't for the fact that she was expected to let me have activities, she would have kept me home, locked up in my room. It was my dad who let me date (surprise!) and it was my Dad who took me shopping for clothes I actually wanted to wear. If she had her way, I would have only worn pink and white and dresses. I hated those colors and dresses until I was in my early 20s. I had such a horrible mother that I do everything possible to be better than her and to be more like my Gram.

My Gram is my inspiration of what a mother, what a grandmother and what a woman in general should be like. She's amazing. She's strong and stubborn and full of life (even in her 70s!) and wonderful. All of her kids love her, all of her grandkids love her. She's my grandfather's second wife and ever since I was about 7 or 8, maybe a little older, I've called her Gram. She's never treated me like I wasn't one of her Grandkids, even though she also hates my mother (it's something we both agree on, that she's a liar and crazy and not worth having in your life at all). She's a great cook, was a great wife to both her husbands (her first husband, Jack, died before I was born, I believe and is the father of her two sons and one daughter) and buried two husbands. She's so strong and honestly, there aren't words that can describe her. She'll yell at you, cuss at you, and tell you she loves you in the same conversation. She'll make the best fudge ever and spoil you with her food and then tell you why you aren't doing something right. She'll tell you not to screw it up when everything is going right.  She's still up early in the morning, helps my cousins watch their kids since they live close to her and makes time to talk to me at least once every couple of weeks, usually every week. I love her so much.

I've had this amazing inspiration on my life and she doesn't fit the normal mold for "Grandmother" at all. And I love that about her. I don't want her to be normal. I like who she is, and I want to be like her. In some ways, I am. I'm stubborn like her and I tell people like is like her. I hope in all ways I can be like her. It's my greatest wish. She isn't normal and that's what makes her perfect. :)

So because I have these great people in my life, from my husband, my perfect partner, my soulmate, my husband, to my best friends to my Gram, I have so many people watching to make sure that I am the best I can be. They make sure I'm a good mother, a good wife, they talk me down from the "I'm about to do something crazy/stupid/_fillintheblank_" place I can sometimes get and they encourage my happiness.

Plus I couldn't imagine ever hurting my children. WHO COULD HURT A CHILD?? And why would someone believe I would?!? But I know the truth, that petty wife, she doesn't actually believe I am neglecting my children (I have proof up the waszoo that I don't!), she just hates me enough and judges me based on the handful of times we've actually seen each other. That's what hurts the most. What kind of person does she think I am? Like her?? NOPE! And proud to be not only a better mother than she thinks, but clearly a better person than she is.

So today, I dealt with more shit that I wanted to and I can't sleep again because of it. The stress is eating at me and I really need a vacation but the good news is in 25 days I am out of this place and I can't wait!!!!


Anyways, I'm off to do something else. Good night.


PS. I hope that nothing I said tonight makes you think less of me, this is the honest truth of what I've been through, maybe not every detail but enough so you get the gist.


Update at 10:50am Friday Morning:::


I called BJach to make an appointment with Maj. Savage (their Pediatrician) and when they asked why I was blunt and told them... The nurse on the line told me You aren't the only one whose pissed off an army wife. I've been there. It made me feel better. She is going to call me back to see if I can just get an overview of Lily's last appointment to send to Family Advocacy and be done with it. :) Yay! I'm glad I'm not the only one who has pissed off a petty wife and I'm glad that people aren't being cruel about it or judging me instantly based on that. Yayness.

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