Check out these beautiful custom made dresses that I bought from Azmera I love these dresses, as they are very unique. I feel like a sexy little mama, but don't show too much. I found her ETSY store one day when I was shopping around in there. I am so happy with these, and wanted to show everyone. Give her a visit at www.ymib.com/azmera

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You know, I felt agitated when I was getting ready for work this morning. I have to wear my hair up in a bun for work. I was already dressed in my uniform and was in the office that I share with the other instructors that I work with. I took my hair down from the bun, because it was messy, and began fiddling with my hair. Most of my colleagues have never seen me with the hair down, and as soon as the curls came loose and started going this way and that, the comments started!

So, life went on and I got used to things in my world "over there". Daily rocket and mortar attacks became more of an annoyance than anything, as the monotone voice on the loudspeakers sounding "ALARM RED, ALARM RED, ALARM RED" meant that liffe would stop for an hour to an hour and a half while protocol was followed to deal with the offending projectile. Even the loud booms of roadside bombs, and the rat-tat-tat of gunfire became "normal" for lack of better wording.

Two in the morning, it had been an uncomfortable couple of hours, cruising the skyes in that cargo plane packed full of soldiers sitting hip to hip and loaded with combat gear; body armor, helmets, M4 rifles, ammunition, bags full of bits and pieces from home. Most, having done this once or twice already, were tired, sleeping, others shutting out the roar by listening to music, used to it--same old thing, groundhog day. Me, sitting there, wired and missing home, girls, husband, and all the things that you don't even think about when you have them all right there available every day. I was scared, but not showing on the outside. I was good at that. Keep a brave face for the young ones so they don't fall apart. I had been aching for weeks already, sitting in Kuwait, waiting for my turn to fly and trying to get used to the heat, the sand, the time changes, the heavyness, the new rules. I was lost in thought, and wondering about my soon to be new home.

How do you learn to trust?

A certain man that I deeply respect and admire asked me that one day. He wanted to know what my own personal process was for letting someone in, and allowing myself to trust. This person stated that in his opinion, trust is given and lost based on shared experiences with an individual.

I actually had to think a bit because frankly, no one has ever asked me that before; and I told him so. The guy told me that he found it peculiar that no one has ever asked me that. I told him that for the most part, people just don't care to have conversations in that level...they are too self absorbed, too fake, too numb to want to discuss things that make a person think, and that really matter.

It seems to me like the older that I get, the younger I become. I am not tired or feel bogged down with the ills and worries that come with age. My life is not carefree by any means, but a good life it is. I walk my road, and snap my fingers keeping time to my little special song. I go through my days without much worry, and feel very little sorrow or regret. I do not worry about money, or pay attention to crazy little jealous thoughts inside my head. I feel pain sometimes, but not for long, and I never, ever hate. I feel anger all the time, but it's a normal human thing to be angry at the things that make no sense. But yet, I always let it go. I try to stay clean inside my heart, and true to my soul and self, and keep my head clear of cloudy thoughts and empty space. I live for dreams, and love, THE LOVE--my love, my "you know who". The man whose moon goddess I became that day in April when we met. I live for laughter, and Diva girls, my little minnie me's. I live for country freedom, not mine, but yours and I will spare nothing so that you keep it. And I live for family too. I live for friends although there are precious few.