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We did it: We survived the first month. We’re 10% of the way to the end of this… thing? debacle? miserable separation? peacekeeping mission? utter crap? oh, you’re right, mostly safe deployment. I shouldn’t b*tch, at least he’s in a safe location. I’m so incredibly thankful that P is just hanging out in the fairly safe Kosovo. I mean they might face a riot or two [maybe], but hey, I could go live there and not fear for my safety anymore than I do here.

Speaking of which, I have a really over active imagination and every time I am home alone at night, I imagine something out of [pick your favorite horror flick] going down in the living room. The drive from Texas was full of gory scenes playing out all across the swamps of Louisiana. Some prayers would probably do me good.

But, yeah, I’m not exactly relishing the separation. Yeah, I’m keeping busy. Yeah, I have cute little Potato Head to keep me company, but whatever. I want to curl up with my husband every night. I want to spend my weekends with him. I want Sam to actually find him when he crawls around the house saying “dada? dada?” I sure as hell don’t want to see our baby point to the phone and say “dada.”

I know, I know, suck it up, cupcake. Chin up, buttercup. Got it, no worries. But this is my blog, and you get to listen to me whine for a hot minute. Love ya 😉

anyways.

Tomorrow is the big V Day. My favorite Hallmark holiday. Wanna know why? Good, because I’m going to tell you.

Four years ago, on Valentine’s Day, I met my sweet P Diddles. We were at the dropzone (where else would you expect us to be on a weekend?), it was P’s first time to the beautimous Emerald Coast Skydiving Center, I remember looking up from the rig I was packing to see some random new guy in town staring at me.

Ummmm. Hi?

As it turned out, we both lived in the same town three hours away from the ground we were standing on.

I was hoping for a carpool buddy, he was hoping for a non-Army friend. I might have been dating someone else at the moment. We certainly weren’t looking to date each other, much less hop on over to the courthouse seven months later.

It took us another month or so to actually have a decent conversation, but by the end of it, I knew I wanted to marry him. [About four seconds earlier, I had realized it was never going to work out with that other guy.]

When it hit me, time stood still: I remember the sound of rain on the roof of his car, the smell of skydiving on our skin, the twinkle in his perfect green eyes, and the joy in my soul. I could give you a thousand more memories from that one nanosecond, but I’ll spare you.

So, while I try to celebrate our love and show P how awesome I think he is everyday, I adore any chance I get to walk down memory lane. There are some sweet butterflies that still hang out on that road. Heck, sometimes just driving around my hometown leaves me feeling like a giddy 19 year old school girl. Everything about this corner of the world makes me think of P and those early “honeymoon” days.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Friends!

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