bloggin'

53 days ago, I was up at 1230 am, with my fabric paint palate, and paint brush in hand, putting the finishing touches on the ladybugs I was painting on my mommas grew sweatpants. Sweatpants that I spent no less than twenty minutes deciding to purchase, as they had to feel very special, and soft . A comforting, soft material that could quite possibly possess the ability to relieve any anxiety my momma might comprise, when the knowledge of her daughter being sent away to a war in Afghanistan might preoccupy her time better spent sleeping. This particular pair of pants had to be *that* soft.

“They were close“, I thought, as my final assessment of the finished project came to a screeching halt, as I continued onto the next project in line, Jon’s sweatpants.
Rather than ladybugs crawling up the pant legs on my mothers pants, Jon’s sweatpants had a diagonal parade of blueberries dropping in different directions down the right pant leg, starting just below the bottom of the pocket.

advancing forward in this ,my newest mess of words and more to the point, I was tactfully fulfilling my need to accomplish something, ANYTHING, as I bid the last few hours with my family farewell. Convenience being my necessary evil accommodating me from the previous week before, consisted of jonothan ditching a week of school to spend time with me, my aunt and uncle making a 10 hour drive from Tuscan, my momma, my dear friend ott spending a few days entertaining my youngest and smartest sister and keeping me company, and lastly, but certainly nowhere near least, my sweet husband, putting up with the craziness of it all. As my mother rotated smoking nervous cigarettes, and dozing in and out of sleep as we watched my favorite movies, it was inevitable that in a few short hours, I was leaving the comfort of their jokes, my husbands grumpy embrace, my brothers argumentative demeanor, the inside jokes shared by my sister and I, and the all around bittersweet atmosphere.

Absolutely no one was ready for me to leave, and everyone but my mother sat in denial that I was in fact getting on a plane, with no set date on which they were to see me again.

As I finished, and handed the sweatpants off to Jon to be hung to dry I nervously scoured the entire townhouse for my mouth guard, and my eye mask. comforts I still have yet to obtain as the last days of training here at camp atterbury come to a close.
I suppose the next part of this blog is supposed to enclose harsh training details, tales of backpacking horrid trails, callous j holes in charge, and severe weather conditions, but truth be told…training wasn’t much to complain about. We had it pretty easy, as I am sure they could have made it worse than it actually was. Granted it was no picnic, but with the biggest complaint being miscommunication and disorganization--you get the point.

I was spoiled with my first care package to be received from jon, consisting of a brand new laptop, and a fresh digital camera, in its original packaging encased in Styrofoam, beginning for me to bang it around, drop it a few times, and overload its memory. Additionally, there were roughly a months worth of various nutrition bars (varied from nutrigrain, powerbars, and two kinds of granola) but most importantly, my stuffed moose he made for me at build a bear two years ago when he was in training for his stint in Afghanistan; dressed in new threads.

In all of this rambling least I forget to mention that in the midst of my training activities, I somehow managed to break my (yes, another) phone, (it was just the screen!) purchase another upgraded phone, and break that within a week. before you go patronizing me, I’ll help myself to a more important point. I have made exactly three friends. so far. That’s right, not only am I admitting to being sociable, but also giving three very hard earned, and well deserved titles. granted, I have a favorite, but only because I have become his proverbial luggage. (KIDDING) Though he does continually find things to re adjust on my gear, (magazine pouches, rifle sling, m9 holster straps, blablabla) I’m constantly bringing extra things in my assault pack that he forgets, and remind him that it‘s okay to laugh …at everything….and not to take anything here too seriously. I could not have picked a better battle buddy to have my back in the line of fire. So loved ones, rest peacefully knowing that when this battle buddy of mine is saving my ass when the time comes, ill be breaking his concentration making him laugh and drop me, as he runs away from roadside explosions.

As expected, papa jack, my mother and jon have been the most faithful in reminding me that I am loved and thought about back home. thank you.