A Little Pink in a World of Camo

Real Talk: Family Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Fri, 17 May 2013 00:39:00 +0000

So, the truth is, I'm really close with my family. My mom and dad, every one knows, are extremely important to me and have always been my biggest cheerleaders. My sis, while we might not always agree, was the first little girl I ever wanted to take care of when I was just the ripe ol' age of 8. And of course you know my daughter is my whole world. But it goes beyond that. My extended family means the world to me. My aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, in-laws and friends that have become family. I have a lot of people that I love very much and I am a lucky, blessed girl. And of course, when one of this family is hurting, well that makes me hurt, too. This is really a terrible preface to where I'm going but I'm trying because this is something that's really hard for me to talk about so just hang in there, okay?

So, I went on a road trip with my parents and A and the dogs in April. I was excited to just get away and relax and I figured the time "unplugged" would do me some good and I would have plenty of time to work on my novel. A few days into the road trip, my aunt called with some news. As it turns out, her husband, my uncle, had a brain tumor. At that very instant the news was shared, there was no question we were going to go "up home" to New England to be with the family during this time. It was almost as if none of us in the RV had to even say anything, we all just knew that's what we were going to do. So we drove back to Maryland, hopped on a plane the next day and flew to Maine. We visited in the hospital before my uncle had surgery to get his brain tumor removed. The surgery seemed to go well, but of course a brain tumor is never a good sign of anything. After a couple week's time, my aunt and uncle shared more news. My uncle has been diagnosed with lung cancer that has spread creating tumors in the brain.

This news breaks my heart to think about. The whole situation. At first, I was pissed, to be honest. I just kept wondering why do bad things happen to good people? It just isn't fair. My uncle is an awesome dude. He served his time in the Army as well as served as a volunteer fireman in New Hampshire for 17 years. He's a really funny guy and I am always laughing around him - hell he's still even funny after this news! He put others before himself, not only as a dad and husband but as a firefighter. He was injured during a water rescue and of course ran into burning buildings, in the line of duty. He loves his kids and his wife, my aunt. My aunt works really hard and is also an amazing person. She is my dad's youngest sister and I get mistakenly called her name quite often. Which I find hilarious every time. She, too, is a funny lady (hey, my whole family is, what can I say?) and she is one of the most positive people I know, even through this whole situation. My cousins are 16 and 20 and I hate that they have to see their dad go through this. The son is going to the fire academy to also become a fireman. They're awesome kids (can I even call him a kid since he's 20? Probably not. SORRY!) and to me, it's just incredibly unfair that this is happening to them.

Even though they live in New Hampshire, they've always been a constant in my life. Sine I was little I've spent many summers in New England. They were there for my graduation from college - sporting shirts my mom made with my face and she did it! printed on them (I was late for graduation and my aunts and mom came running down to rescue me from traffic. One of my aunts drove my car to find a parking spot while my mom and aunt ran me to get to graduation on time!) They were there for my wedding. They were there in Florida for Jonny's funeral. We've gone on vacations together. We've had good talks. I just love them. And I hate that they have to face this scary time. But I will be damned if they face it alone. No way, no how.

I want to help at the very least. There's not much I can really do. I'm not a doctor, I'm not a therapist, I'm not a cancer professional, I'm not much except for one gal that really loves them. So the first thing I'm going to do is share their story, share how awesome they are and ask for help. Unfortunately, they do not have health insurance and I honestly don't even want to think about what the medical bills are going to be as well as every day bills on top of that. My mom worked with Lynn (from St Pete's H.O.T. who put together Ariana's trust fund fundraiser and works with our troops) to set up a fundraising page for my uncle and his family. Our family. I'm just asking you to please check out the fundraising page and if there's anything you can spare, please make a donation. Every dollar will help. It will mean a lot to them, it will mean a lot to me.

Click here to help out!

Thank you guys. I will try my best to be less non existant, but as you can see, times are a little crazy right now. I'm asking also for prayers, well wishes, and happy vibes.

Semper Fi,
Mrs. P

Potterhead and Other Happy Things

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 05:18:00 +0000

Jonny used to call me a "Potterhead." I love Harry Potter. Total nerd about it. My husband was so gracious in my little obsession that when Part 1 of Deathly Hallows hit theatres, he went to the midnight showing with me. Even though he had to be at work at 430 or 5 the next morning. I don't remember what time he had gotten home from work, but I do remember we ate dinner, hung out a little bit, and then he went to take a nap so he could stay up for the movie and have a tiny bit of sleep time before work. While he was sleeping, I decided that, like me, he needed a Harry Potter shirt. Mine was a Gryffindor tank top. I figured he'd feel most cool with Slytherin so I passed the time making him a tee while he slept. I used one of his white t shirts (gasp) I pencil-drew the Slytherin house logo on the shirt and then painted it with acrylic paint. Painting was one thing I used to do often in the nights he was sleeping and I was unable to (always been a raging insomniac). When he woke he wasn't too upset that I'd stolen his tee and he did think it was pretty cool. He also reminded me that he is not a Potterhead like I am and said he'd wear the shirt but wanted to wear another over it, in fear of looking like a total dork in Marine-land Jacksonville. I actually wasn't offended and was cool with it, but I assured him his hand-painted shirt would be far less dorky than some people we would see. Of course when we got there, there were handfulls of kids decked out in full-on HP gear. Some with cloaks and wands and different house emblems... if you've been to a midnight HP showing, you've seen it. He was surprised and finally he took off his "regular" shirt and let his inner Potterhead free. When he went to get us snacks and came back he was so excited about how many compliments he'd gotten on his shirt and proudly told me that he let each of them know "My wife made it!" I loved when he was proud of me. We enjoyed the movie, he actually stayed awake and liked it (not sure if he'd admit that to you...) and when it was over we got home around 330am and he caught a tiny bit of sleep before heading out for work. It's one of a handful of my favorite memories of our short time together. The things he did for me, to make me smile... and how proud he would get of me... Sigh. How I miss him.

Anyway, I begin this post with an HP story because I found two quotes that are pretty related to my life right now. I was going to blog separately but figured I might be a super weirdo if I did two back-to-back HP entries, so I'm going to roll it into one. Hang tight, folks, it might be a long one but I think it'll be worth it ;)

"Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it."
-Albus Dumbledore

I might have touched on this. Honestly I don't remember the last time I really blogged and got down deep and dirty. I probably did though. This year has been pretty tough. January, February, and March basically kicked my butt. I realized, with the help of some widda friends and my therapist, that I was finally feeling again. Yes, typing this I'm thinking I went here already but whatever it's worth discussing. So... the first few years - of course I felt. But let's face it, the first year, I was in some sort of mind-numbing fog. I was in pain, agony even, but I think my brain was in total self-preservation mode and really only letting me feel a portion of what I was really feeling. If that makes any sense. I learned about it once in psych class and it's true - our brains really do have our backs and they try to override sometimes and watch out for us. The instance of me forgetting everything that happened to Jonny the week of his funeral is a prime example. I still feel very sad for my friend that had to fill in the details that day in the dressing room as I looked at her and asked her, "What happened to Jonny?" I knew he was gone but couldn't grasp the details. She even had to explain acronyms to me that I'd been very familiar with for a long time. Survival mode, I believe. Then, I continued with survival mode by running. In physical sense (traveling), in an emotional sense (dating), in a stupid sense (drinking); basically anything to keep my mind off what was really happening. I was able bodied enough to take care of myself and my daughter but I was also damaging myself by trying to tuck away the pain I was feeling by distracting. This went on for quite some time. Even when I wasn't trying to, I was distracting myself. This year, when the rough time came around, there were no distractions. And boom I was blind-sided with pain and loss. I found myself barely treading water in this spot that was neither rock bottom nor where I wanted to be in life. Trying to stay afloat but not quite sure how I got there or how to get to some place out. Not quite drowning but certainly not walking ashore. The distractions were gone and I was facing reality and to be honest, I wasn't quite pleased with it. The pain was almost unbearable and I couldn't understand why after so much time had passed why it was hurting so badly. I chatted with fellow widdas who'd walked similar paths. It turns out, many of us distract ourselves (some of us in such similar ways it's scary), run from our pain and then we find that no matter how hard or fast we try to run from it, it's there waiting for us. Grief doesn't just go away. You can try to escape it but as soon as you think you've outrun it, it's waiting for you and reminding you it's time you feel and face it. So I did. I mean, what other choice did I have? Running/distracting obviously hadn't worked. So I felt. And I cried. And I got angry. And I basically recycled the whole grief process again. I hid from my friends, I was irritable. The whole nine. And then I realized it's time to make some changes. That if I'm not happy where I am, I obviously need to change it. I talked about the changes in an earlier post, and I'm sorry to be repetitive. But oh well, such is life. Soooo, back on track - I decided to make changes.

And then along came the American Widow Project's newest program they were still test-driving "WidowU" comprised of four courses. The course I enrolled to attend - Overcoming Obstacles. I decided I was ready to conquer, I was ready to not only overcome the obstacles but first to face them. I enrolled and waited a few weeks before it was time for the "session" to start, a long weekend in Austin, Texas dedicated to overcoming the obstacles in my life and helping me restart my journey to a better me.

"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."
-Albus Dumbledore

Turns out, WidowU helped me more than I really had anticipated. We meditated. We worked hard to look inside ourselves. We had to ask ourselves the hard questions and then dig down deep to answer them. I realized I am holding on to so much fear. I'm scared of like... everything. I pretend not to be, but I'm welled up with fear. This fear has been holding me back immensely. I was challenged to overcome fear and look fear in the face. I overcame physical obstacles representing the limitations I'd put on my life. As I conquered each challenge, I felt a little bit of fear slip away. I felt my limiting beliefs lift. I felt myself ready to conquer my life and my own mind. The trip really couldn't have happened at a better time. I realized that I really do have the ability to feel happiness, not just distract-from-life "happiness" but true happiness - with myself. And it's not bad to feel the sadness and the anger and the grief. They're all part of this journey. But as I explored meditation with the group, I learned something else, too. When I meditate, I find it really hard to get my thoughts to stop. My mind wanders and the whole peaceful meditation thing is thrown to crap. I learned that it's not really that you have to shut your mind off (I'm sure eventually you want to get to that point but it doesn't just happen), you acknowledge that you're having a thought and then you just kind of push it away and continue on your peace quest (RJP term for meditation ha!) and I think the same goes with fear and with grief and other not-so-awesome feelings. You don't just turn them off or try to force them away. They need to be acknowledged or else they'll really build up and come hammering on your door and eventually bust it down and take you hostage. So instead, politely open your door. Hello grief/anger/fear/sadness, we meet again. I hear what you're saying but I'm ready to continue feeling happiness. You've been acknowledged, you may now move on.

I'm ready to turn on the light. I'm ready to find contentment within myself. I'm ready to push myself harder than I've pushed before to fulfill my dreams. I am ready to be the me I was born to be.

The Tax Situation

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Sat, 06 Apr 2013 15:29:00 +0000

Hey y'all it's tax time. Are you looking forward to your refund checks? I know a lot of my friends are really excited and have big plans with what to do with their refund checks. Tax time can be almost exciting for some of you.

Let me tell you a little about tax time for Ariana and I. Yes, I have to include my 3 year old in this, you'll see why in a second.

First, I dread tax time because of an incident last year. I went on the closest post here, APG to have my taxes done by the military. It's free and you'd think they'd know what they were doing with military issues. Well... APG is not done by the military, it's done by volunteers and we ran into several snaffus. They couldn't really figure out what to do with Ariana or myself. So they send us up to the in charge guy. From the items in his office it appeared he was a retired Captain in the Army. Ok, maybe he can help. He asks me some questions. Now here's the thing. I don't talk about money. I don't talk about taxes. Most the time I don't understand this sort of stuff. I know, it's pitiful, it's terrible but it's me. So I tell him that I have to call my mom because I have a couple questions I can't answer. He proceeds to YELL at me about needing to know this stuff on my own because I'm old enough and my husband's been gone long enough. Thanks a lot jerk. I'm sorry that I don't understand my money, I'm sorry that I need help with that aspect of my life, I do realize that I should be better at it however how is it your place to yell at me and chastise me for a weakness that I'm actively trying to fix?! My mom ended up coming down and helping me and I walked out of the office crying because I couldn't take it anymore. Awesome.

SO that brings us to this year. This year, I have admittedly waited until the last minute to do my taxes. I knew I should probably bring them on post since they're the ones who did them last year, but I waited so long when I called it just had a message that all the appointments were full. Probably for the best, I don't think I could have handled that dude again. I waited so long out of shear dread for the same situation to occur. Anyway, I go and I get my taxes looked at by a couple people. And here is what we found (yes, this lengthy story is all leading up to this, sorry, I know I should have just cut to the chase but whatever)

Ariana. My THREE YEAR OLD daughter. Has to pay out for taxes.

Let me say this again, in case you're afraid you didn't read it right: MY 3 YEAR OLD OWES TAXES.

A quick WTF can be inserted here. And then let me follow up by saying it is NOT UNCOMMON FOR CHILDREN OF THE FALLEN TO PAY OUT IN TAXES. Nearly every widow I know with children has to pay taxes in their children's name(s).

So. The government (as the money that gets taxed is Survivor Benefit Plan - SBP - issued by DFAS aka DoD) gives our kids this money for their parent having been killed and then they're like "Oh, hey, give it back." As if these children haven't given enough. As if their fathers haven't give the ultimate sacrifice for this country, and more needs to be paid from us?!

Yes, yes, I know taxes are important and there is a reason we have them. I also don't want to come across like I'm just "entitled" because I'm a military widow. BUT MY THREE YEAR OLD?!

So let's put numbers on this, shall we? She owes $329 federal tax and she owes $289 to the state. That is $618 my THREE YEAR OLD owes in taxes this year. I'm sorry, but, you've got to be shittin' me.

And get this, there is a Maryland state exemption for payments from a pension system to the surviving spouse or other beneficiary of a law enforcement office or firefighter whose death arises out of or in the course of their employment but NO EXEMPTION for beneficiaries of military KIA.

Let me add in that these amounts are AFTER we've already selected to have a percentage of taxes withheld from her checks so that we would avoid this situation. So now this year, we've upped the amount in hopes we don't have to deal with it. However, there's no option to have money taken out for state tax, only federal.

One of the things I don't understand is whenever her taxes have been done this year, it applies an Alternative Minimum Tax. I really want someone to explain this to me. One of the "tax professionals" told us it was basically "a tax for when they don't have anything else to tax you on," if this is true, it's just an excuse to add a tax to my baby girl?! Come. On.

So here's where I need y'all. Because I'm not into "money stuff" or "government stuff" and this crosses the line into both... WHAT CAN BE DONE. Like I said, this does not just pertain to just Ariana and I. This is nearly every military widow with children. Our amounts are different, of course, but just about every military widow with children that I have spoke to, has to pay out in taxes for the child. There has got to be some way to stop this. Why is their survivor money taxed in the first place, when it's given to CHILDREN??? Now, the survivor money can be given to adults, however, there is an OFFSET between the SBP (DoD) and the DIC (Dependent Indemnity Compensation - VA) that really screws with the adults so from what I understand not many widows without children receive SBP or if they do it's a very small amount. (This is also a HUGE problem, but I know there are widows working on this in Washington and we are doing some lobbying in Washington to stop that nonsense). So my question remains... what can be done? So that these KIDS who do not work, are not taxed?! So that these KIDS who are being "compensated" for their parents' deaths don't have to turn around and return that compensation. It's almost like a big fat slap in the face. "Hey, we appreciate what your father/mother did for us so we'll compensate you for your loss. But then, we'd really like you to give it back. We, the government, probably really don't care." That's how it frickin' feels and I am NOT OKAY WITH IT ANY LONGER!

Edited to include:
If there is something we (all us widow moms) can be doing to "over ride" the taxes our kids owe, (I.E. any credits or exemptions) please let us know. Of course, I would love it to be fixed at the root in the fact that the kids owe at all, however, if there is something we can be doing when we file to legally get around it we'd love to hear about it!

Imagine.

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Tue, 02 Apr 2013 06:20:00 +0000

Imagine you met in high school. College. You randomly met, just a few months ago.

He is your heart and soul. He is it. No matter how hard you may try to deny it, he is it for you. Imagine you've found the missing fragment of your soul. Imagine you've found what everyone searches for. It just fits. You can't make sense of it. And you don't care if anyone else "gets it," it makes sense. You fit.

Imagine your wedding day. It's everything you've dreamed of. It's a princess dress, and all of your closest family and friends. It's all of the traditions, the bouquet toss, the garder, the cake. Everything. It's a quick and sweet ceremony. It's a religious T. It's only a few friends. It's just the pair. It's perfect. To the letter, It's what you have always dreamed of, and some how in such a short while, it's come a reality.

Imagine your honeymoon. You go to an exotic locale. You spend time in the sand and surf. You stay local with the foreboding warning that he might have to work. You squeeze in as many of your favorite activities as possible. You lounge luxuriously for hours. You explore a new location. You feel like it lasts forever. You feel like the clock is ticking.

Imagine you take a pregnancy test. You are expecting. You will bring another human being to this earth. You will be parents. It is negative. You wish upon wish you could create life. You stare at the faded lines.

Imagine life changing. You move your life for someone you love. You switch jobs. You make new friends. You give up old hobbies. You start anew. Everything changes.

Imagine loneliness. He is gone. He has a job to do. You have to uphold and remain strong. You are working. He is working.

Imagine uncertainty. You don't know when stability will return. You don't know the last time you'll see him. You don't know if this is the day. You are tired of waiting, of all the heart jumps.

Imagine he leaves. He has to go. You can't stop him. You're running to his bus. You try to reach him in the bus window. You say goodbye before work. You tell him to come home safe. You warn him to drive carefully. You remind him you love him. You nod at others around him.

Imagine He Is Gone. Imagine the men at your door. Imagine your life flipping upside down.

Imagine each and every dream. He was going to be a_
We were building a_
Our child was_
We were going to_
Our kids will_
I thought we_

Imagine each of those dreams. And then. Add weight. Add weight. Addweightaddweightaddweightaddweight.

Burst.

Imagine.

Each and every

Hope

Dream
Future.

Collapsed

Crushed

Gone.

It wasn't only him. It was the life. The ideas. We were going to.

It. Doesn't. Stop.

The imaginations just keep going.

Even though he is gone.

The mind, the heart, they don't stop.

They are real. They were here. They had families. They had aspirations. They had dreams.

This isn't statistics.

Back in Action

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Tue, 12 Mar 2013 05:53:00 +0000

Woo. I did not like that time with no cord. Luckily I found one for super cheap on Amazon and it came right away so, ta da! I am back.

There were a few things I'd had on my mind to blog about, so I'm going to try to touch on them all. Stand by.

Last week (was it last week? Maybe the week before?) A and I journeyed on down to Florida to hang with Jonny's family (my family too, just makes more sense to be specific that it's Jonny's. I hate saying "the in-laws," sounds even more impersonal to me) for his birthday. On February 26th, Jonathan would have turned 29. I have to say, it was a great visit. I always thoroughly enjoy spending time with his family. I love hearing stories about him, and seeing a different side of him than I really knew. I only ever knew Marine Corps Jonny, so it's fun to hear all about pre-MC Jonny. I really liked celebrating his birthday with his family. We had a little get together and there were so many candles on the cake! Haha. It is also so wonderful to see Ariana with that side of her family. She looks so much like them, at least to me anyway, and I get great delight in that she has so many of her father's features. She enjoyed time with her cousins and aunts and her grammy. I really wish we saw them more often, she had a blast (and I did too). After a few days in St Pete we went up to Orlando with Jonny's sister Emilie. We did Disney one day which was fun. A is still a little young for some things, she gets pretty freaked out by the rides, but we still had a blast. I miss them already and am already thinking of when we'll be able to go down for another visit.

As far as other day-to-day events, most things are pretty much the same. A few changes here and there, and a lot of projects that I'm beginning on. So many things are too early in the planning stages for me to really talk about them, though. With as many things as I've started and stopped in the last 3 years, I've learned to not make a big deal out of anything until I actually commit. That being said, the changes/projects go from everything to home improvements and farm fixes to school to creative projects in the works. You're going to want to stay tuned, because when I unveil it's going to be pretty intense. (Might not be for a while, but it will be intense!)

One project I am working on that I feel comfortable speaking about is the project of myself. Yeah, you read that right. I am an ongoing project. I am getting more dedicated to making myself a better person. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Body, Mind, Soul. I want to be a more balanced person and I want to know myself better.
I've been eating much better. I've gone almost all natural. I read the book It Starts With Food and attempted (and failed) a Whole30 challenge. I didn't let that get me down, though, and each day I try again. Do I cheat? Yup. I had like 6 mini snickers bars today! But I just keep trying and knowing that each minor improvement helps. I had actually started a health/fitness type blog - total secret - but once I went on vacation and blew my eating change I kind of quit updating. I should get back to it. Or just incorporate it here, since I'm bad enough at being consistent here anyway. I workout almost regularly - as in 4 out of 7 days last week. That's huge for me. While I consider myself a relatively active person and I enjoy doing things and moving, I'm not big on actual exercise. You know how people say they are spiritual but don't like organized religion? Yeah, I'm active but I don't like organized exercise. I'm working on that though. In fact, I just finished an at home Crossfit workout before starting this post! I want to be a healthier person. And I want to look better. For once, I want to look better for myself, though, not for anyone else - I'm getting to that part though. These changes effect A, too. She eats better and cleaner because it's what we have in the house. Sometimes we do workouts together - she loves Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred. She wasn't too fond of the Brazilian Dance on demand we did last night though. I want her to know how to make good food choices and be an active person and I know the best way to teach her that is to lead through example.
I'm working on my mind by looking for things to be happy and thankful about. I'm learning to accept me. I'm working on being okay being "alone." Sure, I still browse the online dating sites, but I've pretty much given up dating because I need to learn to love me first before I can expect anyone else to (this is where the looking better for me bit comes in). It's time I've learned that and taken an active role in making it happen. I am taking time to appreciate the little things and I'm doing my damndest to not worry and stress. That ones tricky, though, as I'm still dealing with a lot of anxiety issues. I've stopped taking my daily anxiety medication (did I post about that already?) and while it really, really sucked at first, I'm doing okay. It was pretty intense being able to feel again. But I am certain that's what I needed. It's time I face reality and feel. It hurts and it is so hard, especially this time of year when I feel like I'm re-feeling things from 3 years ago, but I feel in my heart it's what I need to continue on my journey of healing.
As far as spiritual, I'm still kind of searching. I try to set aside time each day for some quiet prayer/meditation. This one is still tricky for me and while I know what I believe I'm trying to be more active in my beliefs.

One of the ways I've found that is helpful in all of this, and something I really wanted to share with you guys because I think a lot of people might benefit from this little idea I had, is a daily reflection sheet. I typed it up on my mom's computer when I was cord-less. First, I wrote a little note to myself. What I wanted the reflection sheet's purpose to be and how I wanted my answers to be honest because it is to help me get to know myself. Then I listed questions. Did you eat cheat foods today? Y/N with a line of explanation "I ate 6 snickers" or "I resisted a delicious cupcake" Did you exercise? Did you spend good quality time with A? Did you move other than exercise? Did you take time to laugh? Did you take quiet time to pray/meditate/think? Did you take time to reach out to someone? Lots of yes/nos with space for explanation. Then I ask myself something that I found stunning about myself today. Yup, I used the word stunning. Then something I wasn't so happy with. Something I was thankful for. Something I am proud of. Something I want to improve upon tomorrow. A few open ended questions like that. Then I have some ratings. Mood rating. Anxiety rating. How many cigarettes (another bad habit I'm looking to conquer). I ask what the weather was like (call me crazy but I've begun to think it has a huge impact on my mood). Anything out of the ordinary happen that day. And on Wednesdays I log my weigh in/measurements. I'm a weird one in that I actually enjoy filling in forms. So it's nice each night to just take a moment and reflect on the day. Look back and evaluate. It's also a way to hold myself accountable. It kind of says "These are the things I want you to be doing, did you do them?" And then I have to answer to myself. Yes I did! Or no, I kind of screwed up. Then I can remember the next day, "Ok, Rach - those snickers kicked your butt yesterday, stay away today!" I also signed it with another little note from myself reminding me that I am loved but I need to love me. It was just a little idea that came in my head and so far I'm very happy with it. Down the road I can change it to reflect more or different things that I'm working on. I highly recommend it.

So that is life in a nutshell. Lots of little projects that are hopefully leading to greatness.
And how was your week?

Box Magazine

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Fri, 08 Mar 2013 20:36:00 +0000

I'm sorry for my absence and this time I really super mean it! I've had soo much to write about but of course my computer cord died on me and I'm waiting for the new one to come in before I can give you all a proper entry. Right now I've taken over my friends computer just to post something that I'm pretty darn excited about.

I've started writing for a new magazine and we've semi-launched. Our "normal" site isn't up quite yet, so the articles for the month has been put on a blogger site. I have two articles in this edition. The first is the Hope Chest piece - it is about March 15 2010, and the timing of this launch is pretty interesting considering the three year anniversary is around the corner. The second is Hair's Your Beer. There are also some other really awesome articles on there for you all to look at. It's a super rad women's mag. Of course I wanted to toot my own horn a little bit because to be honest, I'm pretty proud of my piece. So take a second and have a look, since I know you've been missing me here ;)

Box Magazine

Don't worry. I'll be back very soon with more!

Kids Say the Darndest...

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 04:30:00 +0000

and most wonderful things.

If you read back a couple posts, you will see that my parents lost their pup George just a short time ago. Like I said, it's been a rough time for the family but we've been getting through it.

For a bit, I kept Ariana home and we did not visit gramma and papa's house because they needed time to heal, especially without questions from a three year old.

We've been back over since, and she hasn't been too questionable. Mom explained that George has passed on to Heaven and was with Ariana's daddy. Ariana said, "He's not with my daddy," and mom reflected on a poem she'd read in which pets' souls wait in the rainbow forest until their owners come. Pretty interesting that she would say he wasn't with her dad in Heaven. Maybe George really is hanging out in puppy purgatory until his owner gets there (and let's hope and pray his owner takes his sweet time because I really like having my dad around). Hopefully he is enjoying his time with the other pets, and the rainbows, and forestness and all the other fun stuff he's doing while he waits.

Anyway, back to the point.

So I guess a couple days ago, Ariana was talking to my dad about George. I guess she could tell he was sad and he missed him because Ariana, being the sweet three year old that she is, said, without hesitation, "Papa, you can have my Kinger."

Kinger is our pup that we love very much and Ariana's pretty well attached to. But, without a second thought, my daughter was willing to give her pup to her grandfather because she could see how sad he is without George. The selflessness, empathy, and general beautiful souls of kids is amazing. It also makes me feel like I just might be doing something right with raising her.

Tonight, King was at my parents house with us. Ariana was already there and when King and I walked in she was surprised he was there but not unhappy - King's Here! Then later in the night she said something along the lines of, "King's here in this house now!"

It was like she thought he was staying there and she was helping her papa heal. For now, King is actually staying with us, but I think my parents know that if they want him and need a big pup around, King is theirs.

Oh my little girl. Her dad would be so proud. And something tells me he might have a hand in how awesome she is (I mean besides his 'hand' genetically - teehee) I really don't think he's ever that far from her.

I think we can all learn a lesson from little ones. When someone his hurting or in need, give something of yourself. Maybe as adults we need to learn from children to be a little more giving and a lot less selfish. We need to love one another and when others hurt, if we feel it too, we'll be more inclined to help those hurting (does that make sense? It does in my mind). Feel for the people around you, don't be afraid to share emotion and help carry some of the weight of their sorrows. If we love one another, I think life will be much easier and much, much more enjoyable.

Thank you, Ariana, for once again teaching me an invaluable lesson.

I Really Dislike...

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 07:10:00 +0000

This.

I keep seeing this poem in lots of places. And I really dislike it.

I'm sure a lot of you are familiar with this photo. That, in fact, is me, Jonny, and Ariana inside my belly. Our family. As whole in the living flesh as it would ever get.

So, some clever soul grabbed my picture (yeah, I know it's the interwebs, I guess anything is fair game right? grrr) and threw this crappy poem at the bottom of it.

Okay, So. It certainly appears that it's supposed to be like a memorial and a way to honor a fallen Marine but there are just a lot of things about the words that I just do not like. I'm going to take a moment to tell you exactly why I don't like the poem so maybe people will understand why the meme offends me.

First, I didn't write this poem. It's not about me and Jonny, our relationship, or our family. Someone just attached it to the photo and thought it fit. Number one thing that I didn't like. Of course, it didn't have to be written by me, but if you're going to attach it to our photo at least let the damn thing be about us. It's a very powerful and personal photo to me (yes, once again, I know, I chose to share it with the word via the interwebs but it doesn't mean I have to agree with what was done to it) and I just wish it were treated as such by others.

Not sure if the text on the photo is big enough so here it is:

Remember The Day

I borrowed your brand new car and dented it?

I thought you'd kill me, but you didn't

Remember the day I dragged you to the beach

And you said it would rain, and it did

I thought you'd say "I told you so" but you didn't

Remember the time I flirted with all those guys

To make you jealous, and you were

I thought you'd leave me but you didn't

There were a lot of things you didn't do, but you

Put up with me, loved me, and protected me

There were lots of things I wanted to make up,

To you when you returned from Iraq

But you didn't.

Many of you are probably thinking "That's not so bad, it shows that he was good to her" or something like that. Trust me, I see that side, and I see the author's attempt at making it sweet or whatever, but being the person in the photo I see the side that irritates me, too.

Number one, it kind of makes the "she" of the poem - or ME in the photo - look kind of dumb. She was always wrong and I did things to piss him off. It makes the "he" of the poem - or JONNY in the photo - look nice but almost like a pushover. I don't know. I know I should probably take it as an honest attempt at a tribute but it rubs me the wrong way.

I actually did dent his truck when we first moved to NC. Funny thing, actually, that that is in the poem. A guy backed into me in a parking lot. I was barely pregnant and super hormonal. Thank God my mom was with me and a crazy and determined-to-help gal happened to be watching from across the parking lot. That crazy gal is now one of my best friends, Ria. Between Ria and my mom, they made sure to take care of everything so we knew who the guy was and how to get in touch with him to get it fixed. Don't think the poor guy knew what hit him that day! I was too busy freaking out because it was Jonny's new truck and he was gone on training. Jonny wasn't mad at me, he was totally mad at the dude. Especially when he got home and the dude tried to be a douche. Don't worry - Jonny took care of it and got the money and fixed it. And I made a BFF out of it. Def wasn't all bad. Funny the poem knew about it.

We lived at the beach as much as we could, and we loved dancing in the rain. Being in the warm summer rains of NC. I have many stories about Jonny and I and the rain. Irrelevant stanza, but I guess I get the point. He didn't poke at her, he just dealt with her. I like to think Jonny more than "just dealt" with me.

Ummm... I didn't flirt with guys in front of Jonathan. I guess this is the stanza that pisses me off the most. Implying I was some kind of juvenile playing games. Or at least poem girl was. Could I be a bitch? Oh yeah. But I didn't have to play mind-EFF games to do that. Jonathan, actually, was never the jealous type. I think that's part of the reason we got along so well. I'm super social and some people might have seen my friendliness as flirty but it never was and thank God Jonathan never saw it that way, either. He let me live my life. He trusted me. He loved me just the way I was, social butterfly-ness and all. It was kind of definitely amazing and I miss it. He had a level head. He used to tell me basically that he knew I was his and he had nothing to worry about. He was sooo right. Man, that man was sexy. Even if I were a flirt I doubt I would have. There was no straying from him. Insert chills and moment alone... ;)

And then it says you put up with me, loved me, protected me. That is spot on. He did all those things. I know I'm not the easiest person to love, but he did anyway. He put up with my bullshit and my bitchiness (or pregosaurus as he deemed it - I was not a nice pregnant person) and he still loved me all the same, even if his nostrils were flaring worse than a bull's and the vein in the side of his head was throbbing like it was trying to escape his skin, he still loved me. He wouldn't let me go to sleep without telling me he loved me, we were never allowed to go to bed mad with each other, that was one thing he was a stickler about and I am so thankful for He protected me always. He might not have been the jealous type but he certainly didn't stand for anyone being mean to me, looking at me even semi-wrong. I used to call him my puffer fish because he'd puff all up whenever he saw a "threat." Oh gosh, I miss that. It was adorable. I was his princess and his world, his words.

And then the poem screws up again by saying Iraq. Two different wars, two different places. I think that's just disrespectful to him. At least be accurate about where he was when he gave his life, ya know?

Okay. okay. After further analyzing the poem isn't that bad. There are certain parts I take more personally than I should. And when I really think about I do think it was done with good intentions.

I guess the worst part are comments I've seen in places it was posted. Comments putting the poem and the photo too much together and people making judgements on me and/or Jonathan because of the words in the poem. That just pisses me off. It's not a poem about us. You don't know us. So shut up and just be grateful he gave his life for our country. Just say, "Thank you for your service" instead of something ignorant about me "taking his car without permission" or "flirting with every guy in sight looking for a meal ticket" (yeah I've seen comments along those lines and those are what make me livid). The meaning behind the poem and the meme is that be grateful for even the silly things or the things you didn't think you should be grateful for because you never know when you will lose them (even I will admit, it's a good general meaning) so the commenters should keep that in mind instead of being judgy buttheads. Yes, I said buttheads.

I guess after seeing it enough times I just wanted to set the record straight. Just wanted my voice heard.

So, take it for what it is, a not-so-brilliant attempt at a memorial with an unrelated and poorly written poem (just my opinion, sorry)

I do thank everyone who memorializes Jonathan and keeps his memory and legacy alive. It's certainly something I strive to do and one of the many reasons I write here. I don't want to come across as ungrateful and I'm afraid that's what I've done. I know I don't get to choose what every memorial says and I am not the end-all be-all of memorializing and remembering him, and the general message of the poem of basically "Don't take life or loved ones for granted" is a great one, I just think there are some things that should be handled with a little bit more care. And this photo, one of my very most favorite photos, is one of them, at least in my world.

Excerpt

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 03:35:00 +0000

My fingers are cracking, bleeding. I'm hanging on so tight but the blood between the stone and my skin is slick and I feel the slip starting. The pain rushes through my hands. I grip tighter but it feels like there's no use. I scream, is it from pain or fear? No one hears. They are standing right there, but my screams are muffled in a whipping wind of constant noise. There's too much going on and I'm too small. How did I shrink? When did I become so much smaller? I smell the rusty tinge of copper and taste salt at the back of my throat. I swallow the blood and my voice cracks as I try to call out one last time. Is there even any use anymore?

A face below seems to lean my way. Maybe I was heard. The face turns. I slip more. The face is alarmed. I squeeze tight. I pray that I can just hang on. I've been heard, they're coming. The person with the face reaches up.

I let go.

I squeeze my eyes shut. If I can't see it, it isn't happening. I can feel wind whirling around me. It is filled with discontent, anger, fear. It's haunting voice, licking at the sides of my face, whispering in my ears. Discouragement, angst, anxiety. It lashes me. Pain. White hot pain in it's purest form.

It slows down. I still haven't figured out what "it" is, but I'm moving slower. I drift to a stop. My bare feet hit the cold, rough surface. The sky is overcast, burdened with the feelings hidden in the wind. A light drizzle kisses my skin. I hadn't realized how cold I was. I'd been falling in the cold wind for so long my skin was frozen. The soft warm droplets felt like kisses of healing, angel kisses. I look at what I'm standing on. Unmarked, grey surface. Not concrete. Not stone. Not dirt. What is this? It hits me. I am lost. I am in the middle of an unmarked zone on a grey day, utterly alone and completely lost.

What happened to the face reaching for me? How did I survive the fall? And most importantly, where do I go now? The rain behind me takes on a soft golden glow. I know that golden color. Honey, warmth, contentment, skin in the summer time. Bronzed skin under a July summer sun... I know this warmth.

I turn around and walk back into the grey. Avoiding the tug in my heart and the pain in my soul. It's always been easier to run.

Gorgeous George and the Fragility of Life

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Wed, 13 Feb 2013 02:24:00 +0000

It's funny what makes you really stop and think about life and death. Not funny ha-ha and not funny ironic. I guess funny interesting. Or funny "I wouldn't expect that to evoke those emotions" ish.

Yesterday, our family experienced a loss. My dad went downstairs in the morning to find his buddy, his true best friend, his English Bulldog sleeping on the couch. Except yesterday, George wasn't just sleeping. My dad lost his buddy yesterday and it's hit our family, especially my parents pretty hard.

"He's just a dog," some might say. But in our family our dogs are family members. If we could take them every where with us, we would. So it's no surprise that the sudden and unexpected earthly departure of Georgie has seriously taken it's toll. I guess the really bad part is he wasn't sick. He was fine. He was playing and totally normal all day and evening before. Dad and mom said good night to him like always and the next morning he was just gone. No chance for a goodbye, no warning, nothing. Just gone.

I've been thinking a lot about this. How sudden it happened. Life is so damn fragile. We are not guaranteed another day, another minute, even another second. We take our time for granted. We assume we're invincible until one day throws our mortality in our faces. We won't live forever. No one will. And that's the scary part. Every one you love, animal or human, could be gone when you least expect it.

I certainly wasn't expecting Jonathan to just... die. I was expecting that since he had a "safe" job, as told to me by his buddies, that he'd be fine and come home. Sure, I was scared. Sure, I knew he was in a warzone and there was always the possibility, but I didn't expect it. Well, I might have expected it a little bit starting the night before after the phone call I received (have I told that story here?) but I hadn't up until that point, and certainly didn't want to believe I did even after.

Do you kiss your loved ones goodbye when you leave? Do you tell them you love them, even if they've pissed you off? I'm not just talking about when they're deployed or in danger or when you're not going to see them for a long time. I'm talking every day. I'm a stickler for that. I will say I love you to my loved ones every time I'm done speaking to them. On the phone, in person. Even if I'm flaming at mad, I'll still say I love you. Because I know how true it is. I wasn't exactly happy with Jonathan our last phone conversation (maybe one day I'll tell that story) but I still told him I loved him, because I still did. Even if I'd been a super bitch to him on the phone.

I guess I'm just saying we need to remember to embrace life and learn how special the people and animals we love are to us. We chose to love them for a reason. Don't let that reason be clouded by irrationality or mood swings.

Like I said, funny how such deep thought can be brought on by a "silly dog" but that dog was well loved and is now very much missed.

And before I sign off, let me just say, I love you guys. Maybe not like I love my family, but I certainly appreciate you. I appreciate the comments I receive, I appreciate the support, I appreciate the healthy criticism (although the mean people can shove it), I appreciate and love those of you I've become friends with through this blog. So when I'm gone and all that is left are my silly ramblings and musings, I want the world to know that I did appreciate everything I was given, even on days when my mood clouded reality and I stupidly felt like I had nothing to be thankful for.

In loving memory of Gorgeous George. Georgie Porgie Puddin' Pie. You might have been a turd but we loved ya all the same. We're all turds in this family, anyway. Enjoy humping Jonny's leg in Heaven and constantly purring at him to play with you - he's had too much peace up there and needs to some excitement. I'm sure he'll play with you up there, big boy. Keep each other company until we all meet again.

Wondering

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 03:20:00 +0000

Sometimes I think I could waste my life doing just that; wondering and what if-ing. Even nearly three years after he left his earthly life, I wonder what life would be like if it weren't so. In fact, I think I spend a lot of time during these months doing just that. I also wonder if I'll ever stop wondering. I seriously doubt it. What would our life be like? How would he have been when he came home? What would we have argued about? How would we be raising Ariana differently? Where would we live? And then the ever heart sinking question - would we have made it? My heart tells me yes. My heart tells me I would have stood by that man through hell and back. Of course, I'll never really get to know. I stand by him in death, even death hasn't deterred my love for him, (even though I've certainly been pissed at him) so I have a good feeling we would have.

I think it's utter bullshit he's not here. It's a funny thought, really. It's just crap. Like... it's stupid. It's total BS that Ariana doesn't have her dad with her in a "normal" way. It's crap that he isn't here to help me. It's stupid that I can't touch him anymore. At least that one I have the memory of. I pray I'll never forget his touch.

Tonight when putting Ariana to bed, she laid facing me. Rare with her, because she usually likes to spoon and of course she's the little spoon. But she turned around and she faced me. I told her I really missed her dad. She talked a little about her dad (honestly I'm not really too sure what she was saying, I think something sounded like she said he picked her up so maybe she was talking about a dream or just telling a story - I don't know) and she told me not to cry. Then she did a funny thing. She touched the side of my face and brushed my hair back. Sounds trivial. But not if you were married to Jonny. He always did that. He did that when I was sad and needed a little extra love. He did it before he kissed me. He did it to tell me I was beautiful. So it was just weird in a moment when I was feeling overwhelmed by his absence that my little girl would touch my cheek.

I may have talked about it a lot, I know, but I can still remember our first kiss. The very first time our lips met. It was like they already knew each other, like our souls had already known one another and were joyously meeting again. He held my cheek and brushed my hair back. His lips met mine. The softest, most full lips. He was full of confidence but gentle. The other hand was at the back of my neck. My body was engulfed immediately in tingles, a sensation I'd never experienced from a kiss. As cliche as it sounds, I thought my legs had turned to some semi-hard goo and were going to give way any second. While not every kiss after that was as intense, probably due to a lack of surprise since I knew what I was expecting, they were all magical. I'm blessed to be able to remember how it feels to kiss him. Over three years since I've had that. I can still tell you what it feels like to be in his arms, to sleep next to him, to ...other stuff ( ;-D), to fight with him, to joke with him, and what his presence felt like next to me on the couch or in the truck. He certainly had a presence. Even just sitting next to him, it was like he engulfed me. He was always so warm, my personal space heater. His arms were the perfect size to fit around me. His skin was smooth but his hands were rough enough to be sexy but not feel super gross. He had beautiful hands.

Oi. I could go on and on. Sometimes I think that helps but then I think too much, I remember too hard, and I long for him too completely. I miss him. From deep within the pits of my being I miss him. It's terrible, but I have to try to not think about it. I guess that's part of dealing with grief, is actively not thinking about it. If you do, it might completely take over your life and I just can't let that happen. I still have to live. I have so much more to live for.

I'm not over him. I don't know if that term will ever be applicable to me. "Over." Love like that isn't ever over. Doesn't mean there might not be more love for me out there. Shared love. But our love will still remain. I just miss him. I miss us. I miss me from then, too. And I miss the three of us that never got to happen.

This time of year is so dumb.

Miss you Stink, hope you can read blogs in Heaven and you know how much you're still on my mind...

Mediocrity and Change

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Sat, 09 Feb 2013 20:16:00 +0000

I've been feeling so blah lately. Just not content. When I think of one word to describe life as of lately, I can only come up with mediocre. At best. Maybe it's having just come back from a great Caribbean vacation, maybe it's the dreaded March approaching, maybe it's just the blues, but I'm suffering from a nagging feeling of just not feeling content. I feel like I should be doing more. Maybe I am just desiring excitement. Maybe the excitement I got on vacation made me realize I miss having adventures. I want Ariana to be an adventurer as well. I have the constant urge to run away. Obviously, I can't. I have two horses and a dog that need me (I'd take the baby with me) but boy do I want to just go. I've been kicking myself for my lack of writing. I've been holding all this poop inside me and not letting myself use the one outlet that seems to lighten the burden. I've had a strong desire to write a book. I've got a really neat story line I want to try but the reality of it is I'm scared. I'm really afraid not that the book won't amount to anything but that I won't finish it. I'm terrible at starting things and not finishing (master's program, cosmetology school, jobs...) for some reason I've had a serious commitment phobia for the past... oh 3 years (duh) and I don't know how to overcome it. Maybe finishing a book is just what I need.

I'm in the mood for change. I am going to be making some changes. I need more peace and center in my life, I need to be content. I need to be doing something that I'm proud of. I need to finish something. I've decided I am not happy with how people are these days. People don't treat each other nicely. It's like others' feelings aren't considered anymore. I'm not saying just other people. I'm including myself in this, as well. I will not only be trying to be a better person but I won't be accepting less from others anymore, either. I'm going to try to treat others better, but I'm certainly done letting people hurt my feelings for no reason.

I'm definitely making way for a better, stronger, more exciting Rachel who actually finishes things. Wish me luck. Bye-bye mediocrity!

Mom post

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Sun, 30 Dec 2012 01:30:00 +0000

I need to talk about my daughter for a second. Not only is she the most gorgeous creature on the planet (I might be a little biased) but she is sooo smart, and funny, and just all around awesome.

Right now, she is using her bike helmet as a cradle for her "baby." Even though she has a thousand baby dolls (give or take), her baby at this moment is a strand of garland and a scrapbooking heart shaped hole punch. She is rocking her baby and feeding her baby. Just now she told me her baby was hot and needed to cool down. How does she do this? She grabs oven mits off the counter and puts them over the helmet. You know, because we use oven mits for things that are hot. How clever is that?

Tonight at dinner I was talking to my sister and I said how I didn't even really want to make cookies not thinking A was really paying attention. She cocks her little head at me and says, "I DO!" It's not as funny written out. The way she enunciated and just looked at me. I couldn't help but laugh.

The things this girl comes up with. Mom asked her to do something the other day, she put her hand up in a little salute and said "Ay, ay Captain Grandma!" Then she comes up to me another day, bows and waves her hand majestically and says, "Hellooooo Princess Mommy!" Where does she get this stuff?

She is so neat and never ceases to make me giggle. Even on days when she is in a mood, I will laugh at least once. These are the moments I want to remember. Mommy hood is the most awesome thing in life. Period.

The Big Black Hole

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Fri, 28 Dec 2012 22:57:00 +0000

I've been missing. Not from blogger only, but from life in general. I've had friends checking in on me because they haven't heard from me. People are wondering where I've been, if I'm ok. Luckily facebook lets everyone know I'm alive because I still manage to post statuses and photos, but I've just been kind of absent.

It's this time of year. Frankly, it kicks my ass. And I haven't really wanted to share with anyone. So I've just dug this nice big black hole and crawled into it. It's not anything against any of my friends, it's nothing personal, I've just wanted to disappear. I mean, is it spring yet? Geesh.

I have been so sad I physically hurt. The other night my throat, neck, chest... it was just in pain. You'd think almost three years later and a lifetime of craziness within those three years would lead to it being a bit easier, a bit less. Nope. Still ass-kicking. Lately, looking at photos of Jonny makes me feel ill. It's a terrible, terrible feeling but ya can't help what you feel. I just look at him and want to wretch knowing I'll never hold him on Earth again. It's hitting hard this year. Ugh it's so tough.

On top of that crushing sadness, I've just had a lot going on. I've been under quite a bit of stress. So I just kind of hide away. Sometimes I feel like I'm pestering people with my sadness and my stress. So I just keep it in and deal with it, but in so doing neglect some of the people who really do care. Much to my chagrin, the world kept going after Jonny's death. I think part of me really expected it to come to a screaching halt. There was no way the world could still spin after his sudden and violent removable from earth. But it did. And people still have lives. Hell, I still have a life (sorta). And life has kept going and moved on. But part of me is stuck. And it's hard to express that to people who are still living normally that I'm still stuck and struggling. Sometimes I think people genuinely don't understand how I can "still" be in so much pain. How certain songs can still make me completely break down. Certain flowers, certain smells, certain memories, television shows and movies, certain anythings can just make me lose it. So I hide and I wait it out and I make impossible wishes and I await the spring.

So, I guess I just wanted to let everyone know that I am still here. And yes, things are tough for me right now and my heart aches and I'm stressed. But I'm okay and I will be okay.

Side note, as I'm writing this and Michael Buble's "Hold On" comes on Pandora. What's up God-wink from my sweetie. Haha, never heard this song but the minute I actually started paying attention the lyrics, "There's a thousand ways for things to fall apart, but it's no one's fault, no it's not my fault. And maybe all the plans we made may not work out but I have no doubt even though it's hard to see, I've got faith in us, I believe in you and me. So Hold on to me tight, hold on, I promise it'll be alright."

And with this, I leave you with another song I heard today that I often think of when I'm sad.

Smile though your heart is aching Smile even though it's breaking When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by If you smile through your fear and sorrow Smile and maybe tomorrow You'll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness Hide every trace of sadness Although a tear may be ever so near That's the time you must keep on trying Smile, what's the use of crying? You'll find that life is still worthwhile If you just smile

That's the time you must keep on trying Smile, what's the use of crying? You'll find that life is still worthwhile If you just smile

End of a Quarter Century

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 06:27:00 +0000

My twenty-fifth year has come to a close. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday Mrs. P. Happy birthday you old bag... happy birthday to me!

Twenty Five has been a pretty good year. Certainly an eventful year, mostly with good events. Some not great events. Fortunately nothing too disastrous.

In year 25, I bought my first home. I left North Carolina where I'd been calling home for 3 years and returned to Maryland, which had been home for many year prior. After purchasing my home, I started the task of farming. Making a garden and growing my own food. Well our food. Had lots of help with that endeavor. I broke up with my first serious boyfriend since Jonathan's death. I survived the second angelversary. We celebrated many firsts in our home, including our first set of holidays - Easter, Thanksgiving, and soon Christmas. I purchased two rescued thoroughbreds and embarked on making a great home for them. The boyfriend returned and I gave him a second chance. I started riding again. I brainstormed many projects. I started giving light to the thousands of ideas swimming around in my brain (maybe one day they will get to appear here). I rescued a pup. I had my first fall in years and the second set of bone fractures in my life. I broke up with the boyfriend again. I made some new friends. I reconnected with old friends. I had to choose to cut ties with other friends. I went to nine million weddings. And enjoyed myself. I lost and found my book of letters from Jonny. I got closer with my best friend and survived our first disagreement. I went on a couple dates. I did crafts with my daughter. I got closer to my daughter. I grew closer with my parents. I survived another year of toddlerhood. I actually did Christmas cards. I began a healthy eating lifestyle and have been really good at it. I started going back to therapy. I was a crappy blogger. I enrolled my daughter in a mommy and me class. I took chances. I got hurt. I lived another year.

It really wasn't that bad, looking back. I've had ups and downs, but each day brings it's own ups and downs, let alone each year. I'm pretty proud of how far I've come. I feel that age really is making me wiser and I certainly see things differently than I did last year. I'm learning what is important in life and what deserves to be let go. I am finally cherishing life again. Somedays, it's really hard, but I'm doing it.

While I'm really excited to see what 26 will bring me, I'm also struggling with it a bit. Jonathan was 26 when he died. He was 26 and 16 days. Now of course I don't know if I will live another 16 days, but it appears I will outlive him. And for some reason this is really bothering me. I don't want to die in the next 16 days, either, and I don't want the world to end for those thinking about that... it's just... weird. I guess it goes back to if I do age and get old... I don't know... I'll be old and gray and he'll still be 26. And it will have been so long since I'd seen him and he, me... Oi, this is harder to put into words than I thought. I know I'm not guaranteed this and hopefully I'm not writing this prematurely (I'm always afraid of jinxing things too soon, so as a note to the Man upstairs I do realize I'm not guaranteed anything so please don't feel the need to teach me a lesson about speaking too soon...) but it's just something on my mind as I hit 26. I don't know. So, I guess what I'll do is live this year even more to the fullest. And the one after that. And each one I am given. Because life certainly is a gift not to be taken for granted. I'm lucky I've gotten these first 26 years and I hope I get another and another after that. And maybe even one or 2 more sets. I'm not good at math. Did I just put myself at 200? I don't know. You get my drift though? It's late. And I'm officially old and senility has set in. Can't use that as an excuse yet? Damn. Okay... I'll just go with it's late.

Anyway, that's my birthday post. I didn't mean to drag it down so much. This time of year is rough. So dumb. I'm going to bed now.

Semper Fi,
Mrs. P

My Most Thanks

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Thu, 22 Nov 2012 17:30:00 +0000

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! Hope you are all having a lovely time with your family and friends today. Enjoying some delicious food and great time with your loved ones.

I bet some of you are a little taken aback by my thanks. There's one important thing I didn't even really mention and that's because I saved the one thing I am most thankful for for Thanksgiving Day.

Ariana Ralyn, I am most thankful for you, my baby girl!

My daughter is the one thing in life I am the most thankful for and the most proud of. She is the most beautiful, smartest, funniest little girl with the most personality. I don't know where I would be today if I didn't have to be her mama back in those difficult days, and I think it's safe to say she most likely saved my life. She provides me with so much joy every day and I don't think she even realizes it. Her laughter and giggles light up my world. When I'm sad, a hug from her can turn the whole day around. She tries to help me out when I'm hurt, she does whatever she can to help around the house. She is my little side kick. She is a constant reminder to me of her dad's love and that yup, he was real! (Sometimes he feels like only a dream). She has his eyes which I can't even describe how amazing it is to me.

So yes, I'd have to say the one thing I am the most thankful for is Ariana. My beautiful baby girl, full of life and joy and hope and youth and awesomeness.

Thanksgiving Eve

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Thu, 22 Nov 2012 01:12:00 +0000

Yup, I kind of failed at doing my daily Thanksgiving posts. I'm sorry. Things got a little crazy and then there was the fact that my internet was down for a bit and I am just not fond of blogging from my phone. I sure have been thinking each day of things I am thankful for, though, and remembered often to post on facebook, too.

Today, I would like to talk about how thankful I am for all of the people who were there to support us after Jonathan passed. So many people took the time to send us cards, emails, thoughts, and contribute to Ariana's trust fund. When we arranged the funeral, we decided to say in lieu of flowers our friends and family could donate to a trust account set up for Ariana. We expected nothing from it, we just preferred people not waste their money on flowers. It was a beautiful surprise the donations that poured in to show support to my baby girl. Family, friends, people I haven't talked to in years, and complete strangers took the time to send notes to the bank for Ariana. I have kept every deposit slip and every note or card and had them compiled into a book for Ariana. I don't want her to ever forget how gracious our nation really is for her daddy and how much people were thinking of her. So to all the people who sent a card, a note, a deposit, an email, a facebook message - anything - Thank you.

I never got to writing thank you cards. That's actually something I've been kicking myself for for a very long time. I don't want any person to think that I am ungrateful for these acts of kindness. Especially from complete strangers or people who I haven't really spoken to in a so long. To know that we were thought of by those outside of our close circle of family and friends is incredibly touching and heart warming. You guys are amazing, and I hope that all families of the fallen feel as loved and appreciated as you all made me feel.

Speaking of support, these people were going to get there very own post but since I was slacking I'm putting them in here. I am beyond thankful for my mother and father. I know I talked about family already, but my parents are much more to me than family. They are my main support network, my biggest fans, my confidantes, the ones who help me with everything. They are the best parents a girl could ask for and that a grand daughter could be blessed with. My dad is one of the funniest guys I know and I don't know if he even realizes it. He has fought for our country and faced is own fair share of battles. He is a disabled veteran but he doesn't let that deter his spirit. He is the best guy I know and we have such fun together. My mom is my best friend. She, too, once served in the military and did her part. She is outspoken and honest but will be the first to help anyone who needs it. She never gives up and has willpower of steel. She is the strongest woman I've ever met in my life. I couldn't have asked for better role models growing up. They taught me the importance of family, hard work, love, and laughter. They never let me go a day in my life without knowing I am loved. To my mom and dad, I don't tell you often enough how amazing you two are, how important you are in mine and Ariana's life, and how much you guys mean to me. I love you and I hope I make you proud. Mom, don't cry when you read this, you know it's the truth ;)

Thankful November Days 7 & 8: Care Takers and Comfy Spot

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Fri, 09 Nov 2012 22:24:00 +0000

Last Monday, I took a hard fall off one of the horses, Joey. I landed on my back on the left side. The wind got knocked out of me and it hurt like crazy. I got back on Joey for just a short walk to show him who's boss and to help myself not be afraid of riding next time. By Tuesday, the pain was still searing. Zach had to had to stand behind me so I could lean behind him to ease the pain in the election line (but hey - I still voted!) and of course that still wasn't enough to get me to go in to the doctor. But Wednesday the pain had grown and it was hard to stand, walk, sit, cough, poop... well everything. So I finally made the appointment. After some extremely painful x-rays, it was suspected I had fractured my L4 pedicle. Basically, the little arm that comes off your vertabrae, on the left. After not hearing a definite answer yesterday, I popped in today to see what was up. It turns out the L4 fracture is definitely there as well as a second suspected fracture in the L2 pedicle. I am going on Sunday for an MRI to double check that as well as make sure there's nothing funny going on inside that they can't see with the x-rays. Luckily my urine came back okay to show there is no dammage to my kidney, which was the reason I made the appointment in the first place. Mom and I thought I might have bruised my kidney, I didn't even think about breaking my stinkin' back!

The reason I tell this whole story is because this injury made me realize some things I'm thankful for that I might not have said before.

The 7th: I am so thankful for the people who have been taking care of me during this. Mom and dad and Zach and Ari have been awesome. My mom came over and cleaned for me, she's helped me a lot with the baby. Zach's been taking care of the horses and doting on me, making sure I keep my hiney in bed (even though I hate to!). Ariana has been an angel. She tells me, "It's ok, it's alright you're fine," in her soothing little voice, she tries to help me walk, and she tucks me in when I need to lay down. She's been right by my side and just such a good girl. So many of my friends and family have called/texted/facebooked to check in on me and offer prayers and thoughts and volunteered to help out during my days of bed-boundess. The doctors and nurses I saw have been nothing but kind and helpful to find out what's wrong and provide me the best care they can. I know it's going to be a tough road to recovery and I am thankful I am surrounded by people willing to help me so that I can recover properly and not strain myself and make it worse. I am going to talk about support from people in another essence later, so please don't feel like I'm repeating myself (even though I could if I wanted to because I am very thankful for support), however this is support for one incident and then there will be another for something else. Just a heads up ;)

The 8th: I was simply happy for a comfy spot. Often times I think we take our homes and our spots for granted, at least I do. I am thankful that I have a nice warm bed with cozy sheets and my favorite comforter to curl up in. I am very thankful for this home, it's a gorgeous home and I'm blessed to live here. There are many people who unfortunately do not have a home, let alone a comfy spot, and I know I am blessed to be where I am, safe and warm in the country. I'm glad we have such an awesome space for Ariana to grow up, where she can learn the value of land and space, how important nature is; where she can get dirty and run free; hopefully a home and a space that she is proud of and becomes her own in!

Thankful November Day 6: A Voice and a Choice

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Tue, 06 Nov 2012 23:27:00 +0000

It is election day 2012! Have you voted yet? There is still time in a lot of places, so if you haven't yet, I certainly hope you find the time to. I generally try not to talk politics too much. So many arguments ensue and these days people really take this stuff personally. So, I'm not going to talk about who I voted or why I chose that person, I'm just going to be thankful that I CAN vote. I do have a choice, and my vote does count. Sure, my candidate may or may not win, but at least I got to be a part of that process that gets to choose. There are so many nations that don't get this opportunity, that have no choice at all, and their voices are not heard. We should be thankful that here in America we do get to make choices and we can make silly facebook memes in favor of our chosen candidate and if we don't like something we can stand up and voice that. Living in a free nation is often taken for granted, and it's time we are thankful for what kind of country we live in. Is it flawless? Nope. Are there still things that can be improved? Of course. But we are pretty far ahead of the game in comparison to many, many other places out there. And with this we can continue to move farther and become better. I really hoped everyone got out and used their right to vote today. I know I did much more research this year than I had any other year and I'm pretty proud of myself for that. I am thankful for the resources to research so I can make what I believe to be the best decision and I am thankful to all those who do that. Even if our opinions may differ, an educated vote is what matters most. Well, that and getting the sweet "I Voted" stickers! (kidding).

To this country we live in, the opportunity to make a choice and have a voice, and to the brave men and women who make it this way, I thank you!

Thankful November Days 4&5: Write and Wrong

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Tue, 06 Nov 2012 23:20:00 +0000

I'm a little late for days four and five but I am still going to post about them. On the 4th, my mom in law and sister in law and family headed back to Florida, so I spent the day enjoying their company one last day and yesterday was lawn care day, then I rode and fell off so I wasn't in much mood to look at a computer screen as my back has been pretty sore. Even so, didn't want to skimp out on two days of being thankful and I've definitely thought about which things for the 4th and 5th.

4: I am thankful for the ability to write. Whether or not I am good at it is up for debate. It's not being good that I'm thankful for, just merely the ability. Writing has been one of my biggest comforts all my life. Being able to put what I think into words and to document life. It has not only helped me figure out my feelings and put words to some pretty inexplainable times, it's helped me keep memories and have a way to look back through the years of my life's journey. I have also met some pretty amazing people through the blogging world and different writers' conferences that I will be forever thankful for, one big one is my best friend Mandy, who, without this blog I don't know if our paths would have crossed. More on Mandy and my friends later though. I thank each person who takes the time to read what I've written and who gives me feedback and encourages me to write more. To the audience I have gathered here at A Little Pink, you guys are amazing and you make this blog much more fun and worthwhile. Maybe one day I will fulfill my goal and write a book or maybe more! Stay on the lookout for that one ;)

5: I am thankful for the mistakes I have made throughout life. I know that might sound a little silly, being thankful for mistakes, but mistakes really do help us to learn and grow. Without making mistakes, we would never know which things work and which do not. Of course I have regrets, I wish I would have done things differently, but when it all comes down to it in the grand scheme of things, every mistake, every choice, has lead me to where I am today and that I am thankful for. I am also thankful that I do take the opportunity to learn from mistakes I've made. Sure, sometimes I make them more than once, but being able to look back and inside myself and learn is a big step and sometimes it takes a little more reminding to not do the same things. I am a little hard headed, ya know.

So for the fourth and fifth, two things that have helped shape me, my writing and the mistakes I have made, I am thankful for. To more writing, more learning, but maybe a little less mistakes (lol), cheers!

Thankful November Day 3: Pups

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Sun, 04 Nov 2012 00:13:00 +0000

The world would be a much sadder place without doggies. I am thankful today for puppy dogs!!! We recently got a new addition to our family. His name is King and he is a 3 year old some kind of mixed dog. Parts of him appear to be pit but we aren't really sure. He is rumored to be American Bull/Lab, but I think that was just a guess. A friend from high school was looking for a home for him and I just had to go meet him. Luckily he fit in well with our family and that night he came home with us. So far, it's been a great time with King (or Kinger as we typically call him). He is super sweet and such a lovable boy. Ariana adores him. He spends much of his time sleeping and he likes to be close to us always. He doesn't really like to be left alone and he is very curious about his horse brother and sister. He is a serious cuddle monster. Doggies are the only members of the family who are always happy to see you no matter what, you can lock them in the trunk of your car and when you let them out they aren't mad but instead EXCITED to see you!

Kinger and A

We also had a boxer named Molly. When Zach moved back to Wisconsin, Molly went with him because she was really his girl. I miss her much and hopefully one day we'll have her back with us. I have been blessed to have some great doggies in my life. Precious, Sheba, Keesh, Beau, Angel, Oscar, George. Oscar and George are at my parents and Oscar recently had surgery, so we keep little man Oscar in our prayers for a speedy recovery.

Kinger and A at nap time

Molly the boxer

Oscar Man

Georgie

So to my sweet sweet pup babies, you've made my life much more enjoyable, thank you Lord, for blessing us with such wonderful dogs throughout the years!

Thankful November Day 2: Family

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Fri, 02 Nov 2012 20:36:00 +0000

Family above all else.

In a general statement, I am thankful for my family. Ariana and I were blessed with 2 wonderful families to love and support us and I am so very happy for that simple fact.

Family was fitting today, as my mother in law, sister in law, her husband and their kids just arrived from Florida to spend the weekend with us. I'm so excited to have them at our new home in Maryland for the first time. Ariana seems to be very excited to be spending time with her cousins, especially Mikey who is only a few months older than her. It is awesome for her having a cousin close in age, as I have many a good memories from my cousins that were close in age to me and our visits.

I'm thankful that I am back in Maryland and close to my own family. I am thankful that there are many places in the United States I can go and have family to visit! It's pretty awesome reconnecting with family in a new place.

I am also thankful that family sometimes extends beyond those related by blood or marriage and my family has grown to include some very special friends that I refer to as my brothers and sisters, as if we were born of the same parents.

Cheers to family, and thank you Lord for the wonderful family Ari and I have been blessed with!

Thankful November: Day 1, Chosen

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Thu, 01 Nov 2012 17:52:00 +0000

With November upon us and Thanksgiving looming in the not-so-distant future, it is that time to take a moment and be thankful. My goal this November is to write one thing I am thankful for each day of November. I'm very grateful for the timing, because lately all I want to do is whine and complain and be sad, and I know you guys expect more from me than that, so the timing just couldn't be more perfect.

I know you might be tired of hearing this, but November 1st being the day Jonathan asked me to be his wife (the first time), is the day I will recognize how thankful I am that he chose me. Of all the women in the world, he picked me, he asked me to be his wife. I could not be more thankful to have met this man and to have been able to call him my fiance on this day 4 years ago (four years - wow has it been that long?!). I could not have found a better man to be my husband and the father of our daughter. While our engagement was pretty random, it was perfect for us and perfectly us. We knew that we wanted to be together forever it was just a moment of making it "official." I still have the small chain that he put on my finger that day 4 years ago on the dog tags I keep with me. Man, was I proud of that chain. Sure, the first proposal wasn't exactly planned and it certainly wasn't anything big and fancy (the second time with the diamond was planned and it was low key and perfect for us, as well) but it was just right. And there was no question in my mind when I said yes, I would make him the happiest man in the world. His words, not mine. If they were mine I probably would have said Stink, I'll probably make you the craziest man in the world, and maybe sometimes a miserable one... but to him, he was the happiest (and he did know just what he was getting himself into - wild, right?!). And I was certainly the happiest gal in all the land.

He chose me and I can not thank the Lord enough for that.

Stink, I Love You. To the moon and back, forever and ever, babe. Thanks for choosing me, of all people, to be your wife.

Dream World

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Thu, 25 Oct 2012 16:58:00 +0000

Dreams can do crazy things. Especially when a deceased loved one is involved.

I have had a multitude of dreams about Jonathan since his passing. Most of them, unfortunately, are horrible. I've probably touched on this before but for lack of memory skills and motivation to look through all my blogs, I'm going there again.

I've had dreams where Jonny comes home but doesn't want to be with us. In fact, wants nothing to do with us. In one particular one, he did everything he could to be deployed again. I've had others where I've had to explain my life to him and he hated me. I remember "They told me you were dead" being a quote from many a dream where I'm trying to explain why I'm with Zach or why I've dated. I couldn't get through to him that the Marine Corps insisted he had died in combat and I'd even seen his body at the funeral. Some dreams I have he never died but he also never even deployed. He wanted to get away from us. In one, he moved back down to Florida. Completely changed his identity so we couldn't find him, even though we did. I was crushed that he would just bail out on us like that. In another, he was a secret spy for Afghanistan. He told me his whole life was me was nothing but a lie, a mere coverup for his mission, and that we meant nothing to him. Talk about pain to the heart.

I have the dreams where I know I'm dreaming and they just seem so dumb to be having in the first place. I wake up wondering why I can't just let myself go and feel his presence. I have ones where he's alive but I have to keep telling him (telling myself, more like it I believe) that's he's gone.
I have good dreams too, occasionally. Those more often than not are the ones where I know I'm dreaming, though, so they're not as authentic.

Last night, I actually had a good one. The sad thing about the good ones is that they still leave you feeling kind of crappy upon waking up. Having to realize it was just a dream. It was still worth it though. Last night, he came home. I did end up telling him that they had told me he had died, but it wasn't because I was explaining my life and it wasn't because he was mean. He was so happy. He knew they'd told me but he was just so happy to be back with us. We hugged. And today, I can still feel his arms around me. He kissed me, and for the first time in years I am reminded exactly of what his lips feel like against mine. Oh, how I've missed that feeling and now it is fresh in my mind. I ran my hand through his hair and my hands tingle knowing the slightly scratchy feeling I felt just last night.
He played with Ariana. She knew exactly who he was (as she always does) and she called him daddy. She was so happy to see her daddy and to have her mommy and daddy together. That is a feeling that I can't shake today. I don't want to. It was absolutely amazing. I'll never know that feeling but that dream gave me just the insight that I needed. He loved her so much. He held her tight, he threw her in the air. It was all so natural. And none of it felt like a dream. I can't emphasize how real it felt. Even his warmth. His weight around me. We were hanging out at a friend's house, one that I actually met after Jonny died. It was really random to be there, but she was very excited to meet him. We all just hung out. He played with his daughter and I watched and smiled. And cried. And laughed. It was perfect. It was everything I'd been missing the last two and a half years. Then of course wake up came. And I was here in my house in MD, not in NC. There was no Jonny. Just me and my broken heart, a gloomy day to match the sudden loneliness that sunk in as I opened my eyes. What I wouldn't give to actually have that moment...

It's hard having a dream that gives me what I desire most then waking up to have it all gone again. I am grateful though, because for however long it lasted last night, I had it. It was so so amazing. Maybe I'll be able to close my eyes and relive that dream for a while. Not without some tears of course, but they're worth it.

Oh how I miss him so much. Almost three years later and it still aches to my bones and deeper. Maybe my life has changed, maybe it appears that I've "moved on" but I still miss him. The same, if not more, than the day I found out. Hell, since the day he left for deployment. I'd still give nearly anything in the world to have him (the only exception being my baby girl). Some people might find it ridiculous. Many don't understand. But there is a hole in my heart. It will never be filled. No matter how much time passes, no matter who walks in or out of my lift, there will always be this hole and this ache.

Oh my Stinky, I miss you so much. And I will always, always love you. To the moon and back, forever and ever babe.

All My Friends Are Getting Married...

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs P) — Thu, 04 Oct 2012 01:36:00 +0000

and I'm just getting wasted...
and I'm just getting more awesome...
and I'm just staying the same!

These jokes always crack me up. Especially this year, man is 2012 the year for weddings in my circle of friends. And if one were to take advantage of the number of open bars at the weddings I've attended, one would certainly be wasted. I, however unfortunately, haven't really taken great advantage of that since I always have to drive home, but I could if I had a ride. Then it would be My friends are getting married and I"m getting wasted, literally...

Anyway, enough about open bars, this is about weddings (yeah, yeah they go hand-in-hand). A lot of my friends have or are getting married this year, and another handful have gotten engaged this year. 2012 is a year for LOVE! Or maybe that it's just I'm creeping up on being, ahem, 26 years old and so it's around that time that people to start settling down with their significant others. Hey, I know, I married pretty young, what can I say.

A friend of mine (forgive me I can't remember which) asked me if going to all these weddings, hearing about all these engagements, was upsetting. If it was hard for me with Jonny gone to see all these people around me happy and in love, basically.
The short answer to that is No.
But the question certainly got me thinking.

Should it? Should it be hard for me to be around other people so in love when my love can't be here with me? I don't think so. I am so happy for my friends who are getting/have gotten recently married. I am ecstatic that I get to see that joy and love on their faces, shared with their loves, that I once had. That I still carry in my heart.

Is it tough? Sometimes. I wish that Jonny were there to celebrate my friends' marriages with me. We did get to attend one couple of friends of ours wedding shortly after we were married. We had a blast. Jonny was so much fun and such an amazing wedding date. We would have had a blast this year at all these weddings, for sure.

Sometimes it's hard hearing certain songs. It still pangs my heart when I hear Canon in D, the song I walked down the aisle to. Ava Maria, Walking on Sunshine, those were big songs in our wedding. And of course OUR song, THE song, "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis. That one is tough. So far, so good - it hasn't been anyone's song yet. Eventually it may and I'll cross that bridge when I come to it (probably with a few good tears, I rarely get through that song without tears since). But yes, there are some parts that are tough.

But I want it very clear - it is not tough because I am not happy for my friends, or because I can't stand seeing others happy or a "why do they get what was taken from me" sort of thing, as some may think. It's tough because it brings back memories. Happy memories, definitely, but difficult memories none the less because I miss them. There is no ill will from me toward any happy newlyweds. Heck, I was once a happy newly wed too - it's an AWESOME feeling. I hope that my friends feel just as awesome as I did back then. That they feel that love from their new spouse and the promise, hope, and excitement their vows and the embarking on a new life bring. That is the exciting part about weddings - the sparkle in the newly weds eyes, the promise of an exciting new future. It's beautiful and amazing and I love being there to share in it.

I am a sucker for weddings, I love them. I love love. Even without my love here on earth with me, I love it. I miss him, but it doesn't change the fact that I also love my friends and am happy for them finding their happiness.
So yeah, it's a little tough when I hear certain songs or have certain memories, but no I wouldn't say it's hard or upsetting, per se - it's fun and exciting!

So to all my 2012 Newly Weds and New Engagees (not a real word...) Congratulations! May your life be full of love, laughter, happiness, and just enough tears to keep you grateful!