November 26, 2008
November 19, 2008
I talked to my mother today, and we decided to organize a family shooting day the next time I go home. Neither of my brothers has ever been shooting, and it's been decades since my parents have been. I think it will be a fun family outing.
And my mom just laughs that her daughter is now a gun nut.
November 18, 2008
I wish it were always that simple and touching.
Instead, I also met two ladies who openly scoffed at my woes. They heard my entire story -- dead babies, failed fertility treatment -- and looked at me derisively and said that I just haven't been patient enough. Apparently I am just being silly in thinking that two years is a long time to try and that 31 is getting a late start. Nevermind the fact that they weren't that much older than me and their kids are teenagers. Wait, did I say "kids"? I meant their "whoopsies" pregnancies. Oh good golly, am I pregnant, how did that happen? Whoopsie! They got done telling me about their whoopsies and said that I am just impatient.
And I sat there and took it and then excused myself and left. Because I am polite.
I wish it were possible to type their tone of voice. I'm glad I had a witness to this conversation who assured me later that I wasn't overreacting.
People never cease to amaze me.
But I am trying very hard to be content with the people who were grateful I told my story, instead of dwelling on the naysayers. Guard Wife offered to throw hands for me, but I told her that it's really my problem and that I need to take a deep breath and not let it ruin my night. I kept reminding myself of this:
The first line of the most popular book in Buddhism, The Dhammapata, goes something like this: All that we are is determined by our thoughts. It begins where our thoughts begin, it moves where our thoughts move, it ends where our thoughts end. If we think thoughts like he hurt me, he stole from me, he is my enemy, our life and our destiny will follow that thought as the wheel follows the axle. And if we think thoughts like he cannot hurt me, only I can hurt myself, he cannot steal from me, he cannot be my enemy, only I can be my enemy, then our life and our destiny will follow those thoughts.
There will always be naysayers and boorish people. The only thing I can control is how I let it affect me.
November 17, 2008
Anyway, here was the view out my hotel window.
And here's AWTM, who is mixing it up, and Guard Wife.
November 15, 2008
I love being here.
November 12, 2008
I hate this time of year.
Veterans' Day starts a series of horribly reflective days. And the agonizing part is that I never met any of the men that our post lost in Fallujah. I know what these days in November do to my heart; I can't fathom what they do to the families.
And the 13th is the worst day of all.
All I can say, four years hence, is that I will never forget.
And I will never stop telling Heidi that I haven't forgotten.
November 07, 2008
In many ways, it has gone quickly. It has been easy. But I also want him to come home Right Now so we can enjoy our time together before he leaves again.
Six months ago, I was pregnant. It seems like an eternity ago. It seems like a dream instead of something that really happened. A year ago, I was at the BlogWorldExpo in Vegas. I was also pregnant then. That doesn't seem possible either.
We have a little over a month until my husband comes home. I have already watched all the Rambos and all the Die Hards. I'm gonna try to squeeze in all the Terminators before he gets home and makes me start watching movies for people with a brain.
And when he gets home, I finally get to read Liberal Fascism.
November 01, 2008
As the night went on, another neighbor said that she thought my Halloween costume was really clever, especially since Sarah is my name too. She liked my hockey jersey with PALIN on the back.
And the first neighbor, she got this a-ha look on her face and said, "Ohhhh, you're in a costume. You seemed like such a nice girl; I couldn't figure out why you brought that gun to the party."
This lady thought that I just bring assault rifles to neighborhood get-togethers. I nearly peed my pants. She thought the glasses were real and she didn't catch on to the hockey mom concept, and she just thought that I was some nutball who carries an AR-15 to parties.
Good golly, it takes all kinds, don't it?
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