12.14.2012

Yesterday and Today

Yesterday I had a hard day. My heart hurt and tears were barely held at bay. Thoughts were continuously swirling in my mind and I felt bitter and broken. I spent most of the night lying awake in my soft bed next to my husband whose sound sleep and warm body were my only comforts amidst all of my woes, is me.

Yesterday.

It's not often that something happens to make me turn truly introspective and feel my core shaken but this morning something did. It's a rare thing to be able to see distress on my husband's face but today, it's there.

Evil was not only overbearingly present and manifested in that Connecticut school but it was felt in a way that should not be possible. It is felt now and will continue to be felt which means souls will continue to hurt, hearts will continue to break, and pain will continue to resonate so deeply it may feel as if it will never dissipate.

Yesterday I felt self pity and jealousy and anger and every other selfish emotion. My unhappiness and discontentment were palpable.

Yesterday.

Today, Mr. Superman came into wake me up and after giving me a kiss on the cheek he told me about something that immediately knocked me upside the head and shamed me for all of yesterday's thoughts and feelings and made me feel absolutely pathetic.

"There's been another shooting. This one is bad Chelle. It was kids. A lot of kids. Really young, kindergarten kids. Someone went into this school in Connecticut and shot and killed 26 people. It's making me sick to my stomach."

My heart sank with every word.

Countless experts in just about everything will be interviewed and talked to and they will all assign reasons and illnesses and excuses as to why this person did what he did. The same conversations will cycle exhaustively never being deterred. No matter what is said and written, they will all be wrong. It's impossible to wrap your head around something like this. People will ask, "Why?" and endlessly attempt to find sense in it all.

They won't find it. There's no sense or understanding to be found. The only things to be found are sadness and pain and heartbreak and anger and despair and suffering.

And hope.
Yes, hope.

It won't come today.
It won't come tomorrow.
For some it won't even come before the new year.

Lovelies, I not only know that it will come but I PROMISE that hope will be found.

Yesterday I saw the have-nots and the broken dreams. Yesterday I was blinded by what we don't have and the pain and sadness that comes with that.

Yesterday we didn't have babies and it seemed the worst thing in the world.

Today, there are 20 families who no longer have their babies and it is the worst thing in the world.

Today was another day that proves how completely intertwined and connected we are as human beings. It's absolutely vital we cling to this brotherhood of mankind we all belong to and find within ourselves the patience and love and support God gave each and every one of us.

Yesterday was one thing and today is wholly another.

Today has awakened me. Today has challenged my beliefs. Today has wrought a change so deep its full effects may never be understood. Today has showed me the importance of hope. It's nearly Christmas and for me, the thing I am desperately clinging to is what Christmas holds. Christmas stripped down to the basics and its true meaning is something that is inexplicably perfect.

Christmas is magical.
Christmas is love.
Christmas is promise.
Christmas is hope.
Christmas is peace.
Christmas is selfless.
Christmas is pure and unadulterated.
Christmas is truly what mankind should be.

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

12.11.2012

What Would You Do?

Choices.
Decisions.
Dilemmas.
Forks in the road.
Crises of faith.

When I first opened up about being raped here on my blog, I didn't know what to expect. I definitely had fears and maybe a certain level of expectation concerning what people would think once they knew the truth but as far as the reception and reaction and response... No clue.

When I wrote the truth, I felt sick to my stomach. Tears streamed unbidden down my face and my hands shook so badly it's a wonder how I typed at all. When the moment of truth arrived, when the time came to hit that 'Publish' button, I came unraveled. Who would've thought that such a small, seemingly unextraordinary word could cause panic to rise up so forcefully it felt as though my heart would beat right out of my chest.

And yet, it did.

I can't tell you what went through my head once I did click on that button because I have no recollection of doing it. It's not a memory that's hazy around the edges because my emotions clouded it nor is it something I've successfully suppressed into submission.

It's not there.
Gone.
Perhaps it never was there.

The thing I do remember is what happened afterwards. I began to receive notifications of comments waiting to be moderated and emails so quickly it made my head spin. To say I felt overwhelmed would be an understatement and to say I was blown away would be borderline indecent.

I read each and every word as if they were morsels of food and I a starving woman. I couldn't read them fast enough and I clung to those messages like lifelines. They were my lifelines.

The amount of love and support confused me. I couldn't wrap my head around it all but there it was regardless.

Bold and clear and unyielding.

Then something else happened. My heart began to break. Not for myself and what happened to me, but for all of you.

It's an unfathomable thing, being raped, assaulted, degraded, and abused... It's even harder to open up about it.

In less than 48 hours I had received no less than 361 responses and 157 of those included secrets and stories of similar horrors. The girl who had been molested by her moms boyfriend while growing up. The woman whose own brother used to beat the hell out of her from the time she was 14 until she had the courage to move out at 18 and her parents who knew about it all but never did a single thing to stop him. The reader whose rapist had been so violent and damaging that she could never be physically intimate with her husband without being in extreme pain and risking tearing. The anonymous message I got telling me about being sodomized by her gym teacher for 3 years straight until she attempted to commit suicide in order to be admitted into a psychiatric hospital where she thought she'd be safe. When she told her therapist about it, she was called a liar and kicked out of the program.

These are just 4 stories and I got 157.

ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SEVEN!

Sick yet?

I could have never in a million years guessed that there were SO many people out there like me. Victimized and broken and whose worlds had been torn apart. It brought entirely new meaning and understanding to my belief that its important to be kind because everyone is fighting a battle.

In the last 3 years I've had ample time to examine what happened to me and attempt to make sense of it all. I've had every single scenario and 'what if?' play in my mind a thousand times over. It'd be more than safe to say that my points of view and perception of just about everything have been and are changed or influenced because I was raped.

All too often I'm faced with decisions, real and hypothetical, that require me to make choices that don't have one expressly correct answer.

The most recent of these was while watching a TV show with Mr. Superman. In this particular scenario there was a sex trafficking ring being targeted by the police and a federal agency. The police were ready to bring the entire operation down. The federal agency however forbade it because this sex ring was connected to an Al Qaeda terrorist sleeper cell here in the US and they were not yet ready to infiltrate it and shut it down. There of course was a huge conflict. On the one hand there were the Feds who had the opportunity to apprehend terrorists and stop a possible terrorist attack but there was no guarantee of success. There was also the fact that in order to even have the chance to do this, the sex trafficking would have to be allowed to continue for as long as 12 weeks to a year. On the other hand there were the police who had all of the evidence to bring down the head of the sex trafficking operation and his son and free 19 girls who were beaten and raped dozens of times each day. The arrest and conviction of this man and his son was guaranteed unlike the possible capture of an elusive terrorist.

Mr. Superman paused the TV and asked, "What would you do? Would you bring down the boss and save the girls or would you knowingly allow that all to continue for the possibility of stopping a terrorist attack and maybe saving a lot more lives?" I didn't hesitate. "I'd save the girls." I made the statement that it may seem irrational because I was biased. "I know, that's why I asked." "But you're biased too", I said. "On both sides. You've got me and you've got your military mindset." "Yeah it's tough. I don't think I could make the decision. It's a tough call."

In true Hollywood TV style they were able to bring down the sex ring AND capture the terrorist but I've been thinking about it ever since. The thought of America coming under another terrorist attack is terrible. It is. In my mind though, and deep down in my heart, the thought of girls and women being brutalized and raped countless times EVERY SINGLE DAY makes me sick. It immediately brings tears to my eyes and I feel a tangible ache and pain in what I know is my soul.

Without a doubt...
Without a second of hesitation...
Without blinking...
Without taking pause...
Every single time...

I'd save the girls.

What would you do?

12.02.2012

Because Sometimes Its All You Can Do

Comedy is defiance. It’s a snort of contempt in the face of fear and anxiety. And it’s the laughter that allows hope to creep back on the inhale.

~WILL DURST

11.16.2012

Love Is Love Is Love

In my years of blogging and social media, I can't tell you how many posts I've read where the writers prefaced whatever they were going to say with something akin to, "I'll lose friends/readers/followers over this but I don't care, its what I know/believe/will stick with..." I've always been a person who lacks a filter. I'm honest, sometimes brutally so and when it comes to certain things, especially things I'm passionate about, I'm in your face without regret. I don't believe I've ever written something like that before but I'm about to.

I can, without a single second of hesitation say that because of what I'm about to share, I will lose friends/readers/followers but I cannot say that I do not care. I do care because if you find yourself irritated or disappointed at what you read and you have any thoughts of no longer having an investment in this blog of mine (or my life) then please, PLEASE walk away. I encourage questions and discussions and different opinions and insights but I have absolutely no room in my life for people who I can't take at face value. If in your mind I am any less of a person at the end of this as I am right now but you insist on not sharing that with me, again I say, please, PLEASE walk away.

It's one thing to stand up for what you believe is right and a wholly other to discriminate and say you do so for God. I believe in God. I worship God. I love God. I know God wants me to strive to be like Him, loving all and judging none.

Love is love is love.

Opposing LGBT Groups and same sex marriage strikes me as belonging to the same level of hate and bigotry as that regarding biracial relationships and bi-religious marriages. Hitler's ideas regarding the purity of race were/are seen as hateful, spiteful, derogatory, disgusting, and any other terrible word you can think of. To him and his followers though, they were not only inspired but 1000% justified. During the time of slavery, black people were seen as nothing more than animals and property to be sold and used and dealt with as such. The people who owned slaves and truly believed there was/is a pecking order in race also felt 1000% justified. Any decent human being would agree that Hitler and racists are people who didn't/don't deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of us.

So why, WHY is there still so much hate regarding certain people?

Hate exists and discrimination occurs because of fear. Fear of change and fear of new things and things that are different and difficult for those on the outside to understand.

That's it.

Fear. Not anything else.

It has nothing to do with loyalty to or belief in God. God loves without condition and never stops. He never takes pause. I've always believed that. I'll always believe that. I've always known that but until a couple years ago I didn't truly grasp what that means to its fullest depths.

Can I tell you a secret? I used to be THAT person. The person who once voted against gay marriage. Why? I had certain ideas and beliefs drilled into my head that its what God wanted me to do. So I did. And guess what? I didn't feel like a better person. I didn't feel like I had done what God wanted me to do. I didn't get a surge of pride for doing my Christian duty to 'protect' what has become known as traditional marriage.
A friend of mine who also happens to have a blog, wrote the BEST post/essay/article/declaration/anything I have ever read in my entire life, addressing this very thing. Traditional marriage, defending it, dissecting it, exploring it and Lovelies, its truly and perfectly flawless. She's amazing with all her facts and research and eloquent and graceful writing.

How To Be A Sort-of-Traditional Mormon Defending Non-Traditional Marriage

Thanks Christine.

I look back now and cringe at what I was always spouting and preaching. I really was just spewing rhetoric without a second thought.

I was right! God only wanted boys and girls to love each other romantically! Love the sinner, hate the sin!

Nothing could make me doubt and no one could change my mind.

I have no idea exactly when my beliefs evolved into what they are now. All I know is somewhere along the way I began to ask myself why it was so important that a man and a woman be the only people allowed to love each other freely and get married. Not just why it was important but why on Earth was it so vitally important to ME that "traditional marriage" be protected.

I found out that it wasn't. Who was I to 'take a stand' and tell people who were no less of a child of God than I that they were wrong to love who they loved and that because they loved a little differently than me, they could not marry the love of their lives? The answer to that question is that I am no one. It's not my place nor will I ever claim that it is again.

I look at the people who surround me. My family, my friends, people I work with, people I interact with here in Blog and Social Media Land... and I am in awe.

They are all different.
Some are married.
Some are single.
Some are straight.
Some are gay.
Some are Christians.
Some are Atheists.
Some are boys.
Some are girls.
Some I adore.
Some I barely tolerate.

Why am I in awe? Because I know that they belong to God just like me. They are human, just like me. They are capable of incredible things and making mistakes, just like me. They hurt and feel joy, just like me. They cry, laugh, think, live and love, just like me.

I've thought many, many times what it would feel like to be told that I couldn't do something because of some other circumstance.

You can't drive an SUV because you have freckles! You can't write a novel because you suck at math! You can't be married to Mr. Superman because he has blue eyes and yours are green!

Silly right?
Ridiculous and absurd?
No one would ever have the right to make any of this real!

Once upon a time women couldn't vote nor could blacks. Once upon a time it was legal for a husband to rape his wife because it was her duty to have sex with him. Once upon a time marriages were null and void if one of the parties had lost their virginity prior to being married. Once upon a time if you stepped on a crack you could fall and break your mothers back.

If it had been illegal for my Catholic Father-In-Law to marry my Mormon Mother-In-Law, I wouldn't have my incredible husband and therefore would be dead.

Lovelies, everyone on this Earth is here because of a loving God. Each and every one of us means the same to Him and each and every one of us deserves everything this life has to offer. What do I think this entails?

To be free to love and be loved by whomever our heart chooses because that's what it boils down to. Our hearts choose. When it comes to who our hearts choose, they beat out the rhythm God intended from the beginning. Wildly, freely, endlessly, and without discrimination or limits.

Love is love is love.

To believe otherwise is no honor to God and attempting to justify what is nothing short of discriminatory by saying anything to the contrary makes not only a bigot but a liar also.

It's not easy being different. I am the only person within my immediate and also within the majority of my extended family that supports same sex marriage. It's tough but I know that its incomparable to what any gay person goes through. Being told you don't have control of your life and your dreams because they're 'non-traditional' is unfathomable to me.

The day that this world accepts that love is love is love is the day my heart will smile almost as big as God will be.

11.07.2012

And That's All I've Got To Say About That

If Train A left the space station at 56 o'clock with 3 ducks, 85 bottles of mustard, and your grandma on board while traveling at the speed of 2 plucked chickens on steroids...

And Water-Treading Zebra #8 departed the basement at 77:17 PM with a sack of potatoes and 101 Dalmatians while moving at 1/2 the rate of 3 pickles and a leper...

Then purple kiwis hate Garfield and Cher because cats and hippos are identical except for every 5th generations monkeys uncle.

Confused?

Me too.

Doesn't make any sense?

I know.

Baffled?

I bet.

Wondering why anyone in their right mind would ever take any of this to heart and believe its true?

Right there with ya.

― Me

“Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results.”

― Albert Einstein

10.18.2012

Another Phone Call

Life.

It happens.

Until a few years ago, I never really knew what that meant.

I thought I knew. I thought I knew what it meant, what it felt like, what it was.

I didn't.
I do now though.
Boy, do I know.

And if there was ever any doubt, I'm constantly reminded. Most of the time, it's me who reminds me but yesterday it happened to come courtesy of a phone call from a certain Air Force Captain. The same Air Force Captain who has been on the other end of several phone calls that reminded me of it.

Life.

Three years and 14 days ago, it happened.

Pain.
Terror.
Humiliation.
Guilt.
Rape.
Life.

Life happened.

It's nowhere near anything I ever thought would be a part of my life but on October 4, 2009 it happened and it is now very much a part of my life.

About eight months after it happened, I received a phone call from the JAX (AF Legal) Captain notifying me that the civilian court in Texas had declined to prosecute. The District Attorney had taken my case before a Grand Jury and despite all of the evidence against him, they returned a No Bill on my attacker. The DA had pulled the Grand Jury and discovered that there were three men who could not and would not be swayed of their opinions. To them, my swollen and bruised neck, the petechiae in my eyes from being choked and suffocated, the bruises in the shape of his hands on my arms and legs, the scratches on my back from his dirty fingernails, the bump on the back of my head were all indicators that I liked rough sex. They had no problem saying that in their minds, this was a case of a young military wife who cheated on her husband and regretted it so she cried rape. There was no indictment issued and he was then free to continue on to the base listed on the orders that had been put on pause when the investigation had begun. He was free as a bird and when he got to Little Rock AFB and his file landed on the Commander's desk, I got this phone call telling me everything.

In a phone call, it happened. Life. Again. In that phone call I felt all of that pain and terror and humiliation again.

The beginning of September 2010 brought another phone call. This one was to tell me that the Commander wanted to go forward within the military justice system and convene an Article 32 hearing.

In a phone call, it happened. Life. Again. In that phone call I felt hope. Life isn't always bad and I was reminded of that.

A week later Mr. Superman got a phone call. He was being deployed in two weeks.

In a phone call, it happened. Life. Military life. Again. I felt what I imagine to be the absolutely normal yet no less frightening rush of emotions that any military significant other feels when they hear those words. THE words. I'm deploying. A split-second later however my heart jumped into my throat and my head started to spin because yet again, I was facing the possibility of facing my attacker alone. All of these thoughts, and feelings, and fears overwhelmed me in a matter of seconds.... all because of a phone call. Again.

By the end of September my husband was gone and I was living with family in Arizona. The day marking a year since my attack was full of writing depositions, answering questions from lawyers, and praying I got to talk to Mr. Superman who was 8,000 miles away.

October 19, 2010 was our three year wedding anniversary. It was also the day of the Article 32 hearing. I was berated with questions from all sides. The Prosecution walked me through every single second of that night. THE night. The night it happened.

Pain.
Terror.
Humiliation.
Guilt.
Rape.
Life.

I answered the same questions I'd been asked by so many people, so many times. Then I did it all over again with the Defense team. I was slandered. Embarrassed, mortified, terrified, frustrated, exasperated, upset, angry.... these don't even begin to cover what I was feeling. I did it all a third time with the Judge Advocate. Each time I had to use clinical terms and explicit detail sparing nothing. Three times. A few hours later it happened. Life. I had gone to an Urgent Care because of pain I'd been dealing with. It was a miscarriage. Our third angel baby was gone. I was numb by this point except for a tiny spark of feeling in my heart when the realization hit that I was going to have to tell my husband.

And just like that it would happen again. Life. Shock and sadness would follow the news I gave my husband. He would be reminded that life happens. No matter what, it happens. There's no stopping it. Even though it was our anniversary and despite him being 8,000 miles away in an active and dangerous war zone, the words I'd say to him would reaffirm the bitter truth of life. All because of a phone call.

It didn't take long before my phone was ringing and the caller I.D. showed it was the AF Captain. I didn't answer it. I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to face another phone call that would jar me back to the reality of it all. Life. I was sitting in a nail salon with my sister and we both had our feet soaking in mini-jacuzzi tubs. I was going to be flying to Salt Lake City the next day to spend Thanksgiving with Mr. Superman's family and was looking forward to a week of escaping reality. A few minutes after the missed phone call my phone buzzed to let me know I had a voice mail from the Captain. I ignored it. I don't know how many hours it took or if it took a few days but when I finally braced myself and put the phone to my ear, I wasn't prepared for what I heard.

"Everything has been dismissed. The Judge Advocate didn't feel there was enough to take it any further. As far as his civilian record goes, there is none. His military file shows that while he attended Tech School he was questioned about a SARC case but nothing more. Your request for an extension of the Do Not Contact order or a civilian Restraining Order have both been denied since everything has been dismissed and its now as if none of the investigation or incident ever occurred."

It happened. With an ignored phone call and a voice mail I was reminded of the cruelty and unfairness of life. Regardless of what we do or don't do, life happens. It always happens.

The last couple of years have been full of ups and downs when it comes to how I've dealt with and coped with being raped and subsequently having my rapist exonerated twice. There have been days where I felt strong and brave and as if I could see him on the street and be okay. There have been days where I felt like curling up in a ball and crying until my eyes were swollen and my head ached. I've lost count of how many days I have done just that.

Yesterday I was at work when it happened. Life. I was surrounded by a few coworkers and nine 3 year-olds singing fun songs when my phone began to buzz. Normally, I don't have my phone in my pocket while at work but we had just returned from a field trip and I had taken it with me to take pictures of all the kids. I took it out of my pocket to hit ignore but my heart stopped when I saw the phone number. When I got my iPhone, I never transferred numbers over so even though it didn't have the AF Captain's name on the caller I.D. I knew it was him. I'll always know who it is when a 501 area code is flashing on my phone screen. I jumped up and mumbled that I had to take the phone call. I ducked into a small room/closet at the back of our classroom and with shaking hands answered my phone.

In that instant it happened. Life. I heard the familiar voice of the Captain and could tell what he was going to say wasn't going to be good news. About ten minutes later I hung up the phone while furiously wiping my eyes and hoping none of the kids would see me crying. I stepped out and ran to the bathroom where I kept telling myself that no matter what, I had to pull it together and push it all aside. Life.

Here I am 3 years later and because of a phone call I got yesterday I feel just as raw and bruised and angry and terrified and embarrassed as I was the night I was raped.

Raping me wasn't enough.

Choking and suffocating me until blood vessels burst in my eyes and I nearly passed out wasn't enough.

Raping me again wasn't enough.

Slamming my head into a concrete wall wasn't enough.

Bruising, restraining, and hitting me weren't enough.

Slandering and humiliating me weren't enough.

Making sure I felt like I wasn't worth anything wasn't enough.

Getting to walk away free, twice, with no consequences and as if he didn't nearly kill me wasn't enough.

This person who took something away from me with no repercussions now has FIVE different attorneys assembling against me and looking for me so they can serve me with papers to let me know he is now suing me for defamation.

The Captain was calling me to let me know. Even though he was legally not supposed to contact me again after everything was dismissed, he did. And just like that, with a phone call this Air Force Captain reminded me that it happens.

Life.

No matter how many times we have been knocked down or disappointed, it happens. In spite of how we choose to deal with the past, it happens. Regardless of how good we are doing in our lives and how happy we are feeling, it happens. There is never any slowing it down or stopping it in its tracks.

Life.

It always happens.

9.29.2012

He Still Gets Me

Once upon a time there was this poor little blog. Its blogger was a total slacker and it often sat for weeks with no new posts.

Yeah, yeah that's me.
Slacker status over here.

Here I am once again about to blog about superficial, mundane, surface stuff. Its all I can do right now which I think is good enough.

Our new life here is insane.
It's different but we are still so unsettled we haven't even been able to to have everything sink in yet.

Even though we got here in July and had the keys to our apartment about a week later, we didn't start living here at our apartment until two weeks ago. My in-laws went out of the country and we house sat for them. We were finally able to move into (as in actually start sleeping at) our place the night before I started work. Yeah, crazy timing I know. I got hired on at my job about 10 days after we got here but since its a State job I wasn't officially in the computer systems until much later, delaying my start date.

So we have been living here in our tiny little Salt Lake City apartment but I still have boxes full of stuff, our balcony is full of boxes we no longer have a garage for, there is tape on walls waiting to be painted, furniture half-way refinished, bags full of clothes and things needing to be sent to D.I. (Utah's version of Goodwill), and everything is a MESS.

Here's a few pictures though.

The first wall I got fully completed. Right behind our sectional!

Our tiny hallway is halfway finished. One side has the chevron painted while the other is just taped off.

This is the before, during, and after of my 4$ D.I. find! My new desk chair!

That fabulous fabric? Totally scored that from my MIL's craft room and she scored it from Colorado like 15 years ago. LOVE it!

Now this is directly across from our sectional. That's the dresser Mr. Superman got me for my birthday this year and I LOVED refinishing it. I did a mini-makeover on that lamp and I still love it but I just didn't like it in that corner. I'm really trying to have balance between all of my bright, colorful decor and my vintage, antique, eclectic pieces. I'm also having to just do what I can with what I already have. The lamp I have there now is a lamp we got five years ago for our wedding. It has modern lines Mr. Superman loves (the opposite type of design I'm into) but I like it a lot more now. I just taped it off and did a coat of paint I already had. Voila!

This ugly wicker chest of drawers? I've had it for 6 1/2 years. When I went away to college I inherited all sorts of ugly, unwanted, really old furniture from people. This, I think, came from my SIL's grandma. I've kept it around for years with every single move just because it was great for storing things. I decided to throw some of the same yellow paint I used for the lamp shade on it and it's now residing in the corner by our desk. Eh, it'll do for now.

Our bedroom is my labor of love. I didn't redesign anything from what I had in Georgia because I already love it so much. It's got a vintage/antique French theme going on. The square footage of the master bedroom here is SO much smaller than the square footage in Georgia so its been a little tricky. It's still very much an ongoing project and I have yet to finish painting the edges and refinishing the antique vanity I scored almost two years ago but I will. Someday, it'll all be done and perfect.

So that's it so far. I have SO much left to do including finishing everything that is only half done AND all of the stuff I haven't even started. I've got the guest bedroom, both bathrooms, the kitchen, and the laundry room/closet. After all of that I have a giant list of little things like replacing all of the door hardware, outlet and light switch covers, installing shelving into the closets, stenciling and painting the inside of the closets, replacing the light fixtures, installing custom molding around the bathroom mirrors...

I could go on and on but instead, I'll wrap it up.

I just had to share this last picture.
Every Thursday I get to see Mr. Superman in ABU's and guess what?
It still gets me.

Everything in our lives has changed.
Everything is different.
We moved.
He got discharged.
I'm working.
Our puppy lives with my MIL.

Everything has changed except once a week, I get to see something that makes my heart smile and gives me the reminder of why we are doing all of this. It reminds me that in three years we will once again be an Active Duty family. Every week I get to see my Loverface in uniform and it still gets me.

He still gets me.
Right now, that's enough.