Today is Thanksgiving. There is a lot that I am thankful for few examples, my family, my friends new and old, my fur babies, My home, my job (even tho I bitch a lot...lets be honest who doesnt), the fact that I can go to college and many other things. But I also cant help but be bitter. It is because Jerry is gone that I have the opportunities that I do. Its a double edged sword I suppose. The holidays bring on a certain sense of bitterness for those who are missing someone who is no longer here. The holiday feels just a more empty. Around this time of year I am very on edge ( I know I have mentioned it in my previous post) My anxiety is high, number of panic attacks go up and I cant say his name out loud because it will send me into tears. So most wonderful time of the year my ass. lol.
I just wish others would understand, its difficult to explain why at a certain moment I am having a panic attack, or the fact that someone said something to me in a different tone of voice caused me to cry (this happens a lot due to my overthinking of a situation. My brain likes to make it into a bigger deal that it is) but it all boils down to the fact that he isnt here and that I miss him. I have been thinking of a lot of regrets that I have lately (because why not kick myself when Im down right?) and a lot have to do with his family. I regret that we arent closer. I regret that we dont talk. Part of me feels like its almost to late. I talk with his mother here and there, make sure she is doing ok and reminding her that I am thinking about her because I dont want her to think she is alone. I dont do it as much as I should, life gets so busy sometimes and I know that is not an excuse.
 I just cant stop thinking that 7 years ago today Jerry and I spent our first and only Thanksgiving as a married couple. I feel so robbed sometimes.
 It gets difficult for me at work sometimes. There arent many who understand or that can relate. I love (most) coworkers, but very few are comfortable about talking about it. Funny since we experience and assist in animals crossing the rainbow bridge almost on a weekly basis. I guess when you have experiences you become a little jaded I suppose. For about 8 weeks running there was a euthanasia or DOA coming into the hospital. Unfortunately around this time of year is when everyone decides to say goodbye and those appointments tend to fill the schedule more than others. They are not easy appointments to go into and more often than not when I am there I am either taking the room or assisting in some way. It takes its toll, especially when you have another client coming in screaming at us that we dont care, all we care about is money. No corporate cares about money. Sometimes I am the one who stays with your pet as they cross that rainbow bridge, I cry for them because I am the last face they see, a stranger. I hug them and pet them one last time and after they are gone I say a silent prayer for them (even if you stay I was pray for them). I love my job but it can be really hard, especially when you are clinically depressed. But hey probably more than half the people I work with suffer from depression so at least I am not alone. Brightside of things I guess.  There are people who constantly say they wish they had my job or they want to do what I do, it is not easy and a lot of people who say that I know for a fact cant handle it, but there is no nice way of saying it so I just say yea and smile. When I first got the job as a nurse I wasnt sure how I was going to handle it or even if I was going to stay with it, but I do help in helping a lot animals and that makes the hard times worth it. I like how my thought of how it can be hard to talk to coworkers turned into a depressing tangent about the hard parts of my job. Well if you have ever wondered what it is like inside my brain (which is not pretty lol lets be honest) there you go, one random tangent to the next.
 This holiday season I will continue trying to do my best, if not for me at least for Pea and Jerry. I do my best not to cry in front of her or get upset or have a panic attack but sometimes it just happens and it sucks. I know what you must be thinking "God this post is depressing" Im sorry lol I try to write what I am thinking and sometimes shit just gets dark. But you just have to roll with the punches. Ready for a laugh? I have to go get ready for church. :p Unfortunately I am not joking Bros mom wants me to go, well all of us. I dont have anything against churches or religion, I just have my own set of beliefs and mine and hers arent the same. Not saying there is anything wrong with that it just isnt for me. But it is important for her and if it makes her like me a little bit more I will go and just sit and watch the ASL interpreters sign and pray I dont burst into flames. just kidding. Or am I?
Happy Thanksgiving everyone, stay safe and eat too much

Holidays and other things

The time is coming. The time that all surviving families and friends dread... the holidays. I am not saying that I am a Grinch, but hey when you see everyone so in love and spending time with their husbands who are home (and alive) it is a harsh reminder of what you don't have. I also dread this time because on Facebook and Youtube there will be an influx of "coming home" videos. I love coming home videos and I ugly cry at every single one (double ugly cry if it involves animals). I guess what I am trying to say is don't forget to invite the surviving families out to events you're hosting, invite the Mom and the wife for a drink, don't forget that this time, whether they know it themselves or not, is a really shitty time of year and the last thing they need is to feel like even more of an outcast. With that being said lets do some recapping of the last few months shall we.
First things first, halloween was pretty awesome. It was Peas first and it came with a lot of mixed emotions. Happy because I love Halloween and sad because shell never have a first one again.

 here she is visiting her first pumpkin patch

 second pumpkin patch

trick or treating with her cousin

 Here is her 8 months picture that I love. Her check up is in a week or so and although weve pretty much been told her noodle is fine I still get very worried. One day I was talking with a co worker about everything and I broke down. With my depression it gets very hard sometimes but I never allow myself to cry and I know I should. Anyway I broke down to her and she told me something I will never forget. "She has one hell of a guardian angel." Those words have stuck with me ever since. I know Jerry is watching over me and her. He would have loved her. The daughter he always wanted. It breaks my heart that I was never able to give that to him but we were so young and we watched so many other military couples fail after having a child and I didnt want that for us. It is one of my biggest regrets. But sometimes I will say to her "tell him hello for me and that I miss him. Tell him thank you for keeping you safe." Being a widow sucks. Being anyone who lost someone really close sucks. 

Work has been good lately, always a little crazy and a little irritating but usually good. A lot of changes are happening and I am excited and interested in seeing where it goes. There is still some resentment about me becoming a tech but I dont say anything I just let them deal with their issues and try to give good constructive criticism when asked. 

Bro is coaching cocoa beach high wrestling again this season and he loves it just like last year. This year you can tell hes a little more comfortable which is good because I know  how important it is to him. When he isnt coaching he is watching Athena so I can work and do school. Hes truly an amazing man. I know some people think it is strange to love my husband and Bro at the same time but like I have mentioned before it is like I am two separate people. One that was with Jerry and the one thats with Bro. I do my best to not compare the relationships and Bro is always super respectful of what Jerry and I had. He drove me to meritt island to the new (maybe not new but new to me) Veterans Memorial. There is a section dedicated to those who lost their lives in Operation Enduring Freedom and the other tours but Jerrys name was there and it is always bitter sweet. Im glad that he is being remember I just wish he was never gone. 

Thank you everyone who takes the time to read these I know theyve kind of been more on my depressive side lately but I am working on it. One day at a time. A big thank you to my amazing family for my early christmas present and my friends for always being there for me and making me laugh. 

My widow fuck it list

Well I made a list and I did it. 
1.visit Jerry ✔

2. Eat something Jerry would. We went to bjs brewhouse where I ate fried cheese and had a beer :)

3.Get a tattoo✔✔ thank you to Jim Gibbonsat anchors up amazing work as always 

4.Buy myself something nice- I got my nails done in matte black of course 
5. Allow myself time to cry- still working on this one 

Today

Today is October 13th. I hate this day. I hate this day more than any other day in the entire year. Today is the day he left. I know he didnt choose to leave, he was killed, he had no control over that but today is the day it stopped being RaiAnne and Jerry and just started being RaiAnne. Today is the day I had to learn how to begin to live without you. I miss you Jerry like no one can understand. I wonder to myself all the time (despite what people say) If you knew how much I loved you, I wonder that when you died did you know in your heart that I loved you unconditionally. That despite all my fuck ups that I loved you more than anything on this earth. I hope you knew. I miss you more than words can express. I dont just mourn your death, I mourn the life we never got to have. I mourn the children we dreamt of raising, the anniversaries and birthdays we would never get to spend together. Thats why I hate today. But I am going to do my best to hold it together. I saw another widow a few weeks ago on facebook have a widow bucket list. It was her wedding anniversary and she wanted to do somethings. One was eat a particular pie, drink   copious amounts of tequila, etc. So I am creating my own. It is my widow fuck it list:
1. Visit Jer Check
2.Eat something Jer would want to eat
3.Get a tattoo
4.Buy myself something nice
5. Allow myself time to cry
So heres to my widow fuck it list. I miss you Jerry and love you more than words. Until we meet again babe. Thank you for always watching over me.

 Saw a rainbow after I left the cemetery

 Our first Halloween together. Our favorite holiday 

Beginnings

So I posted my beginning story to the Survivors of Hero's facebook page that is the soft version of the book idea I talked about at Holbrook farms. I felt it was important to share my story because then it could make others feel more comfortable in doing so as well. But for those not on that page I wanted to give you the opportunity to read it if you wanted to so here it is, enjoy :)

 So here is my intro-First I would like to welcome you all to this crazy adventure and humoring me along the way. I sincerely look forward to reading your stories, hearing your music, and seeing your art. Whatever your muse maybe I look forward to seeing them. This project was started because someone took my wine fueled fantasy and told me it was a great idea. But I guess I should start from the beginning.

                Married at 19, to the love of my life Jeremiah “Jerry” Izquierdo Sancho,all we ever heard was “are you sure?” “This is a commitment, marriage is no joke” blah blah blah. We knew (despite our many ups and downs) at 16 we would be married as soon as we could. I was never perfect, who is? But in his eyes I was everything. He would always tell me how much his life made sense when I was in it. I remember the time we broke up, I broke his heart and was being selfish (something to this day I cannot forgive myself for it), he was sitting in the back seat of my car when “wait for you” by Elliott Yamin came on. I glanced in the rear view mirror, we made eye contact and he started mouthing the words. That image alone will never leave my mind. Anyway after realizing the stupid ass mistake I made I asked him to take me back, which he was waiting for. With a smile on his face he said only if you marry me, obviously I did, almost 2 months later.

                I packed my belongings and moved back to New York to be with him at his first duty station and our first apartment. From June until April it was just me and him. Sometimes just me because he would have to leave for a month for training, but he made sure to call me as much as he could and remind me of how beautiful I was in his eyes. Sometimes he would leave me notes throughout the house. They’d be in the fridge, bathroom, bedroom, etc. They were my favorite part of my day when I would find them. But the time came when we got the orders. Those damn deployment orders. I was 20 years old signing my husbands funeral arrangements because “You have better hand writing and if I die I want them to be able to read what I want” His favorite excuse, I always did things better than him he would say mostly so he could play xbox which I never minded. I remember calling my friends and telling them how scared I was “what if he doesn’t love me when he comes home” “what if he dies” “I don’t want to be a 21 year old widow” Well you can pretty much gather what happened next.

                October 15^th I found out my husband was killed two days prior. I was numb. I would cry uncontrollably for a while and then stop. He was dead two days before any of us knew. Two days. I can still see the faces of my dad, my mother in law, my brother, sister, and our friends who just happened to be at my parent’s house that day. Their faces burned inside of my head. Their faces that sometimes come back to me in flashbacks or nightmares. And even when I could physically feel my heart breaking I was trying to comfort them. Go figure. I was told by a very young chaplain from the army, who was probably younger than me, that my husband died from wounds sustained from an IED attack and that he was the only casualty. I was always grateful that he was the only one as messed up as that sounds. I didn’t want anyone else to suffer the way I was. I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain onto anyone. I got drunk a lot after that. I did a lot of things after that to try and numb my pain. There was a time when just seeing pictures of him would cause this burning sensation in my chest and I would know it was time for pills or whiskey to ease my pain and help me sleep. I tried to be strong for my family. I would only cry at night In my bed, quietly as to not wake anyone. I would sometimes go for walks at 3 in the morning just so I could cry. I did not want to kill myself but I wasn’t trying to protect myself from harm either so take it for what you will. Eventually my dad sat me down and told me the drinking needed to stop, I listened, I knew Jerry would have been so disappointed to see me like that, so I did my best to best to do better. I started going to therapy (hit and miss), started working again, and started writing. It wasn’t two or three years after his death that I found TAPS and my life changed. From there came American widows project and then most recently Holbrook Farms. At Holbrook is where I was brave enough (after having some liquid courage) to tell a complete stranger about my blog, about my crazy idea to make a series of stories for widows by widows and maybe one day reach people who don’t know our stories. To show them that our pain is still here but were using it to try and change things. That even though I have had something incredibly devastating happen to me I can still smile, still have a good time and most importantly still laugh. Jerry would be proud of that, because even though I hate my laugh he always thought it was my best quality. This person who knew nothing more about me than that my husband was killed, had the faith in me to say “Lets do this”. So ladies and gents here we are. Writing is how I survive, I like to write about my sad times, my crazy widow moments and of course the times that make me laugh because those to me are most important. 

Couldn't Make It Up If I Tried

 So last night I decided that I was going to go out with some co-workers to the bars in our very small downtown area for some drinks. Nothing fancy but its been a stressful few months and with the looming threat of Jerry's "angelversary" coming up I decided it would probably be nice to go out with the ladies.
 The night started off wonderfully. We all met up with each other at the main pub in town (and because I dont want to use anyones name just incase they dont want to be known in all of this I will just use letters) So we meet up and M's boyfriend meets some dude in the bathroom and they become besties so were all talking laughing and drinking. Then we decided to visit another friends friend at a bar, had more drinks bullshited, the usual and then we ended up at Meg o Mallys for some food. Our waitress was wonderful and our bartender was a dick. After that we walked around, visited some other bars in the area and then decided to make sure another coworker D got to her car and trying to keep her from making poor decisions. Well heres where the story gets interesting. So on our way were walking and this dude randomly pulls me aside and starts talking to me. Now it is very obvious that he has had some drinks and that he is very emotional. So being concerned I asked "you OK?" to which he responds "NO I AM NOT OK THEY ARE ARRESTING MY FRIEND BECAUSE HE THREW HIS DRINK OUT A SECOND TOO LATE AND BECAUSE HE HAS DARKER SKIN" *shook* The Cops are walking back over to him and were trying to calm this dude down so he himself isnt arrested. A couple of our friends bailed when they saw the cops and well I didnt feel right leaving this drunk dude sobbing on the sidewalk. So me,A and J sympathize with the guy, all of us have/are in bi-racial relationships and have had first hand experience with racism (whether that be the case here or not) and because he was drunk and emotional decided to try and make sure this drunk dude didnt A.Get arrested with his friend and B. Made it home ok. So we eventually calm him down some (not a lot-He was still yelling in the streets about how his dad is rich and how hes gonna get a lawyer to fuck them in the ass*side note really hard not to laugh when someone is yelling this...go a head and try*) and we start walking him home because he only lived a few blocks away. Now A is not someone to be fucked with. Shes not very tall but what she lacks in height she makes up for in strength, like legit when shes mad shes terrifying and J is 6'1'' and also intimidating AF, although as soon as you hear her talk she is the sweetest person in existence-still wouldnt fuck with her tho, So walking this very drunk dude home wasn't frightening to me at all and we wanted to make sure he made it ok. So were walking and he is telling us all about his "dark skin" friend (his words not mine). Talking about how they picked him because of his darker skin, how he just got a job in DC and now the police are trying to ruin his life with this charge,etc. And we are deeply sympathizing with him, no one wants their life to be ruined and this is his friend he cares deeply about. We continue to walk and listen to drunk dude vent about racism and because hes Jewish he cant really relate but he has friends who suffer and the world is evil, etc. All the mean while I am also keeping an eye on my surroundings and making sure I myself will not be murdered. Well then I notice a car pass by and then stop and make a U-turn. So Im thinking A. Were about to get kidnapped or B. its someone who knows this drunk dude. I see a guy lean his head out and call drunk dude whos name is Bobby apparently. Bobby realizes that his friend is not in fact arrested, but has been released and is sitting in front of him and loses his god damn mind. He drops to the ground crying thanking God his friend is ok,etc. And it would have been a really sweet moment for all except we noticed something about his "dark skin" friend. He wasnt dark skinned at all. I am looking at A and J while were simultaneously trying to load Bobby into the car, and I am saying "you see this white dude" with my eyes. Bobby and his friend are talking about Bobby says "I am so happy they released you because they're racists and only arrested you because you have darker skin" to which his friend responds "I am greek and Italian, Thanks Ladies have a good night" and they drive away. At this point all I could do was laugh my ass off. Now when you yourself are very white and saying your friend is dark skin I am expecting to see someone who is at least a smidge darker than you. We were all thinking "Ok this guy is african american or hispanic" Nope dude was as white as me. So our catchphrase for the remainder of the night was "fuck you Bobby" of "Fuckin Bobby". That ladies and Gents is some Downtown Melbourne Night on the town drinking stories I could not make up even if I tried.

Holbrook Farms Retreat

 Let me start off by saying, "Holbrook Farms was one of the best retreats I have ever been to" (que Kanye stealing mic from Tswizzle impression). :p But in all seriousness they set the bar high. The owners of the 8000 somewhat square foot cabin is owned by two insanely nice people...like if they asked me to jump I'd ask how high kind of nice people and you know my ass doesn't jump for anyone, that should be evident by my stunning curvy figure lol. But no seriously these people bought a cabin with the intention of making it their forever home decided "Nah we have a different idea" took that home and decided to fly 10 military widows out every summer for free and let us all stay there. They fed us, planned awesome outdoor activities and some healing activities as well. I don't think I can say it any louder THESE TWO PEOPLE BROUGHT THIS TO US FREE OF CHARGE TO JUST GIVE BACK. It is different when it is an  organization working and whatever but this started off with two people who just wanted to give back. Like I'm sorry are you two angels? Is this real? Yes it was and yes they are.
 Let me start from the beginning. I was introduced to this retreat by a fellow widow who much like myself loves relaxing and doing outdoorsy type stuff, I like water things more than her but since she knows me she was like you need to go. I had been a little hesitant because P is only 4 months old and I was like "Damn am I a bad mom?" Then my lovely boyfriend reminded me that I am a total lunatic if I don't get my much needed widow time in. The retreats are designed to connect us and give us a break and a calm place to talk about our journeys without someone giving us the "OMG you're a widow stare" (Widow stare is a much more uncomfortable 'deer in the headlights' look). So i signed up and hoped that I would be accepted. Eventually I got the email I was going, got super excited and then found out I would not know anyone on this retreat. I like to call this my "oh shit" moment. So I usually know at least 1 other widow seeing as the more retreats you go to the more you see people again. Well not this time. *Que social anxiety. So I tried to ignore it and thought to myself well if they don't like you at least you can go buy wine, Wine loves you. ( I promise I am not an alcoholic...just seems that way..she says drinking her Mikes Hard lemonade). As the day grew closer the more anxious I got. "What if they're just flying you up there to kidnap you?" "What the hell is there to do in Minnesota?" "What if it turns into a horror movie setting....you'll be in the middle of nowhere on a lake...girl you have watched enough horror movies to know what happens next"...yea that is kind of how my brain works. But I ignored it and packed my bags.
 Day 1 (after almost missing both flights and having 1 panic attack) we arrive in an airport no bigger than a Walgreen's...I'm not kidding...Ok maybe two Walgreen's put together. As I am getting off the plane I hear "Oh you have a TAPS bag, you must be the other widow" Correct you are, I think as I meet the eyes of the ladies sitting across from me. My first thought "sweet I'm not the only one with tattoos". We do the usual meet and greets and head downtown to do some shopping and get some food while we wait for the others to arrive. We end up in downtown Fargo and let me say downtown Fargo has more bars in a small area then I've ever seen and I've been to Miami. So I taste the local apple cider ale, pretty yummy, then we move on to explore. About 100 feet down the street we run into a overly excited lady who stops us in our tracks (She was a meter maid...meter officer..meter whatever they're called now) and asks us if we know where we're going. We say just exploring and she runs and gets us a map. Sweet lady, weird experience since she practically yelled at us to stop but overall not bad. She gave us a brief history lesson and allowed us to move on our merry way. Fun fact the only places to get cool souvenirs in Fargo is A) the airport and B) Wal-mart. That fun fact is free ladies and gents, the next one will cost you.  So after we pick up the other ladies we headed back to the Cabin and I about fainted, like I said its like 8000 square feet of amazingness. They gave us tour, we did our introductions and they gave us the rest of the night to unwind and get to know each other. I sat by the fire and relaxed talked with some of the ladies and then went to bed.
Day 2 was spent doing paddle board yoga and then we had some fun at a different cabin. It was the Mother of the founder of the retreat. They had a boat, jet ski, paddle boards, other water sport stuff and free beer. So I had a fun day of water stuff plus day drinking and then some neat conversations. You will not starve if you are ever to go to this retreat. I don't think I have ever eaten that much food and I am from an Italian family. But it was a lovely day and I had a blast.
 After day 2 my days blended together, but we had a lovely dinner at a restaurant names Spanky's....It wasn't like you're thinking trust me I was thinking the same thing, it was pretty damn good food and I was rocking my outfit.

like look at that.Need I say more. And for those who actually know me, no I didn't fall. We had some very nice volunteers at the retreat who helped me in and out of the van. I took advantage of the fact that I was out and about. I never go out to where I need to dress up, I got some weird looks from the natives but its all good at least I gave them something to talk about. While at dinner the musician that was there played Piano Man which of course we all had to sing....loudly. Apparently we attracted the attention from a very drunk couple who asked if if we were celebrating a divorce. After telling him no, an awkward pause and praying they would scatter away to continue their drunk shenanigans elsewhere, we decided our new toast was "Cheers to not being divorced"-Widow Humor.  

A couple of glasses of wine, great food and a few inappropriate jokes about balls and our evening was coming to an end. After that we did some shopping and then I decided I was going to go for a walk on one of the little trails they have. First of all I learned that flys that bite absolutely love me a lot more than I love them....damn flys, second of all I apparently have learned nothing from horror movies because I went for a walk in the woods, in an unknown area, with my headphones, ALONE. In all fairness I did let people know where I was going "in case I don't come back" which they thought was funny. As I am walking (again with my headphones in) my thoughts went from "Wow nature is so pretty" to "Someone could totally be stalking me right now and I wouldn't even hear them because I am a dumbass and have my headphones in" and I know what you're thinking "Surely Rai you aren't that dumb" well you know I love to prove people wrong..here's proof 

Here's me...in the middle of nowhere with my headphones in, trying to take a photo with this weed thing I cant remember the name of trying to look cute. Yup proof of my stupidity. Either sarcasm or trying to be cute will kill me one day that's for sure. 

I connected with a few ladies towards the end of the retreat which was nice, they're all awesome but its hard for me sometimes. But overall everyone was pretty awesome. There was also a lady who volunteered who taught us a healing through writing course which of course like a dumb dumb I missed, but I did have the opportunity to talk to her after our Sunday night dinner (she gave me an extra workbook to help my writing). I told her about my blog and ultimately about my dream of creating a book for widows by widows, a collection of stories whether they be funny or sad, etc., but it could be a reminder that you're not alone. Well she loved the idea and wants to make it happen which is amazing because I never thought the idea would gain traction. Not only is she interested but the founder of the retreat wants to join in the adventure as well. LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? What an amazing opportunity and I hope that it turns out the way I want to. Here's to hoping <3 

 All the ladies with our wire art that they got for us. Mine said Peace :) I love it

 R.Riveter company which is a company made up entirely of military spouses make these wonderful handbags- check them out, they were on sharktank and their handbags are amazing

 Dinner with everyone plus the owner of the restaurant 

Me being dumb

Widow Sisters

The lake- Spent almost every morning down there drinking my coffee and talking with a few of the ladies.

Paddle board. My new favorite Hobby. 

 Thank you Holbrook Farms for giving me the weekend of my dreams. I will be back thats a promise. 

Thank you for reading and of course any questions are welcomed. If you are a military widow and would like to be a part of my collection of stories please feel free to email them to me so we can get this started. raiannesancho@gmail.com  LETS KICK THIS PIG! not literally..i love piggies. 

4th of july

It was an adventure for sure. Before I left i am pretty sure I googled everything possible on how to travel with an infant. My awesome co-worker warned me "she will shit and vomit everywhere be prepared...pack extra outfits and then pack one more. Pack extra for you too". So I did. The night before we left I put all the good vibes into the universe...please don't let me hate my child at the end of this. Kidding I could never hate her, her baby screams on the other hand I could do without. So with car packed and baby ready to go we got in the car and drove 14 hours. I swear my good vibes worked because she had no vomit and no blow outs. Thank you Jesus lol and she only fussed when we had about 2 hours left in the trip so we stopped and ate let her stretch. When we were done we wrapped Her up and she fell asleep. I am so lucky. I was preparing for disaster but she proved me wrong....thankfully.
  Our first day there was nice. Everyone wanted to hold her and swoon over the baby so I let them. Gave me time to eat and drink (#1 mom over here..hey mommy likes her drinks). It was good seeing family and interesting meeting new people...thats all I will say about that. With the exception of if you feel the need to insult Hispanics make sure there aren't any in the room...or that her momma who will kick your ass cant hear you. But I just keep my focus on my baby, talked about my job, compared gross work stories with my cousin and did my best not to let my anxiety get to me. There were a few times I needed to step away to calm down because I could feel it starting to brew but at least I caught it before it went into a full blown attack.
The ride home went better than the ride there. Athena slept a lot and just played with her toys. She's awesome. She did get constipated when we got home but other than that picture perfect. I couldn't have done it without bro either. She kept my anxiety down and made those saying racist comments incredibly uncomfortable which if you have never seen the look of someone realizing "oh i should watch what I say" come across their face, it's pretty amazing. He's my rock and I seriously would have been lost without him or my one aunt who helped me while I was there. You know who you are 💜 sorry for the short post I'll be able to write more later but for now it's work time.

When your best just doesnt feel like its good enough...and other updates on life

So about a week and and a half ago I started this post with "As I sat watching my child finally sleep after an hour and a half of her screaming with everything I do only seeming to make it worse and make her screams more shrill...I have to sit and wonder....is my best good enough? Others seem to take my child and have no issues, she gives them no problems whatsoever....but here I sit, crying until my eyes burn because no matter what I am doing I feel as if it isn't good enough.Yes I realize its my depression and anxiety doing this to me. But do you know how tired I am of fighting them? How not just mentally exhausting it can be, but how physically exhausted I am? Constantly fighting with yourself over things part of you understands isn't true. Its like having 2 people inside my head, one is completely rational, the other well....isn't. It hurts to think that I am not good enough, I am my own worst critic" - Well damn week and a half ago RaiAnne way to be depressing. But that is where I was then Now I am a little less critical, (still kept the title because I couldn't think of anything better) I am still convinced my child hates me most days, give me a break I said I was a LITTLE less critical, but in all seriousness that time was a down week for me. I was stressing about money (who doesn't) Stressing about school (again who doesn't) and just over all overwhelmed about stuff (don't make me say it). But I sat down and after a brief alone time with some reflection (I named my wine bottle reflection) I came to my fuck it moment. I had signed up for 3 summer classes 1 in semester A which was statistics and 2 in semester B, well I couldn't back out of semester A but I sure as hell could back out of semester B so guess what? I said Fuck it and dropped my semester B classes. I was literally working myself into the grave. I would come home after working 10-12 hour shifts at work to work on math homework (thought my life couldn't get anymore depressing, I was wrong, math makes everything more depressing). There is nothing worse than trying to use your brain when it has no life left to it. I know I'd be much worse off if it weren't for a select few amazing people I work with. 1. You know who you all are and 2. You guys don't know how much you help my sanity. (Especially when the day goes to pure shit, you don't get a lunch, 5 out of the 7 people working are having mental breakdowns (I was one of them), you know you're not leaving on time and you are just sitting there watching your life ignite with the flames of stupidity from others and you're left to clean up the ashes. vivid enough?) But really you guys are awesome and before I was moved to the back I knew what a shit stick you guys were always handed but never realized how bad it smelled, BUT that being said I would never go back to where I was given a choice.
              But since then my birthday has come and gone. My bestie from work made me carrot cake cupcakes (girl I didnt forget your fish lol) and another brought me an enitre carrot cake. (they know me so well...my deep obsession for carrot cake). My family and friends celebrated with gifts that are too good for me. Money to renew my universal pass, Ice cream cake, a new pride shirt, another surprise i am waiting on, A scavenger hunt with treasures of all the coffee (starbucks gift card), wonderful art by my favorite little man, wonderful heartfelt cards and a day at the spa (which I redeemed today and HOT DAMN I NEED ALL OF THE MASSAGES..but seriously amazing) and my favorite thing...hugs. I know I am lame but screw you I like hugs. Also family time. There is nothing like when we all get together and sit at my house and laugh. I get to see my niece try to love my dogs who want nothing to do with her, Monkey and Pea trying to figure out each other and what they are, my parents interacting with them both and just all the stupid conversations. Literally my favorite thing in the world is hanging out with people you love.
        Now the next part of this may get a little deep and it may rub specific people the wrong way honestly I am kind of debating even writing about it but this is my space to write about how I feel and I shouldn't be afraid to express something because someone who might read this may misinterpret what I am saying and be offended. So....my family reunion is in like 5 days. Well I am leaving in 5 days. I will be driving 12 hours (probably longer due to stops) with a 3.5 months old baby, my baby daddy (were together, i just enjoy saying it), Joe and my Pops. Now I am nervous about the drive. I have probably spent more time googling "traveling long distances with infant in car" than one person should ever need to and have made sure that I have enough supplies for her than needed (better to have than to need right?) but I am more nervous about my family. Now I love my family. They are my family and as daddy says "You cant pick who you're related to so you might as well get used to it" (I am sure hes thrown a "fuck" or "fucking" in there somewhere, probably between the well and get) which is fine because I do love my family. The thing that gets me is that I am different. Save your "Oh no you're not different, you're special" bullshit, I mean I know I am fantastic but that isn't the point. My point is that I was raised on Judas Priest and ACDC, where I feel as if they were more Madonna and Duran Duran. They're Molly Ringwald and I am Judd Nelson (The Breakfast Club..in case the reference wasn't clear). I am covered in tattoos (which theyre not big fans of and have repeatedly told me not to get more...to which i have repeatedly ignored) and colored my hair every shade of the rainbow, where as they wouldnt which is cool to each their own, I just don't judge for it. Now I know they love me (shit i hope so) but lets face it even with our differences in personalities I have been through life altering shit so that makes social interactions a bit more complicated. I also enjoy talking about Jerry and the life we had, the stupid shit he used to do and all that where I feel as if they feel if they ignored it, it would be an out of sight, out of mind thing. I remember the year after Jerry died I was sitting outside my Aunt's house in the backyard enjoying the 4th of July party with my dad and a song came on that reminded me of him. Now remember I was not even a full year out yet so the pain was still very fresh (like the knife was still in my stomach fresh) and I kind of spaced out for a second. I will not mention names but someone instead of asking me (even though I was right there) asked my dad if I was alright. I remember looking up from my drink at my Dad and just staring at him. I made mention to him before the trip that I was afraid they would treat me different because of Jerry's death. He told me that some people couldn't handle what I went through and that I shouldn't be ashamed at all to be who I am and if they didn't like it they knew where they could go. I am sure that conversation flashed through his mind as well and he looked up and said "Fuck if I know, why don't you ask her she's right there" (see why I love my dad) I remember thinking 'Wow my own family is afraid to talk to me...what a freak...i am a widow freak' and that ladies and gentleman was my biggest fear. I didn't want anyone to avoid me, fuck I was trying to enjoy my time just like anyone else, but it was still too fresh for me. Now after that I got completely hammered with another aunt and uncle who ended up driving there just for me, my sister and I drinking Pina coladas excessively and dancing to the Pina Colada song, and sneaking off to smoke, I did end up having a good time though.  I also remember having a straight up,rocking back and forth, hyperventilating panic attack and my one aunt trying to help me but I couldn't even answer her when she asked what was wrong because of the severity of the attack. I wanted to tell her I just couldn't get the words out,she got frustrated with me....I don't think she knew that I was having a panic attack and couldn't talk, so I don't hold that against her. Certain people in my family I have never had to dull myself around, some I've had to dull a little and others I had to just turn off completely because let's face it, oil and water don't mix. And that's OK, I love my diverse family I just sort of wish they weren't so afraid of my grief. Grief is scary but it wasn't like I was going to break down at the sheer mention of him..  So the moral of the story ladies and gents is that sometimes saying nothing is a lot worse than saying something. Sometimes just a little "I just wanted to say I am sorry you had to go through that but I promise to be here for you and help you get through the day just a little easier while I am here" will mean the world to someone.  I don't speak for all widows, I just remember how isolated I would feel especially being  21,22,...etc. Any widow function I am usually baby so I understand its uncomfortable. Death is uncomfortable no matter the loss. Now I am not saying run up to your local widow and shake them screaming "I AM HERE FOR YOU, TELL ME EVERYTHING" just be respectful and for the love of God if you don't remember their loved ones name just say husband, brother in law, friend ect...just trust me on this one....or hey just be honest and say I am sorry I don't remember his/her name, what was it?
    Now there was my Uncles mother who was there at the reunion, she was a widow also and even though she was older than me we clicked. I remember finally smiling just because someone wanted to hear about my stupid stories about him. I don't think she knows how much that meant to me. To this day that conversation meant everything to me. "Don't let them bother you sweetheart. Your memories and your tattoos are gorgeous and don't let anyone take that from you".
             Thanks again for taking the time to read this and hopefully you enjoyed it. XOXOXO

Pea with Uncle Chris and her DK tie Uncle Joe got for her Picture is a like a month old but its a cute one

A special shoutout to these two amazing ladies. I am so happy to have you both on my journey and so is Athena. #widowsisters <3

For some, memorial day is everyday

This morning I was good. Last night was an awesome night, had some friends over drank some  (an entire bottle) of sangria and played some board games. I knew what today was, I thought I was prepared (i wasnt). This morning I woke up to my baby smiling at me and my dogs cuddled up close, but I could feel it. I tried pushing it  down, pretending it wasn't going to affect me. "This year will be different. This year I won't be so upset". Then I checked Facebook like i always do and in my memories was my interview with Florida today. "I'll just make a small post about it " I thought as I hit the share button  . I didn't even bother rewatching the video. "You're ok" I thought to myself as I feed my hangry baby "today will not bring you down. We won't let anxiety or depression win" I can be so naive. "You're friends are here, go have fun and stop being so anti-social. Stop being you. " I am my biggest critic and meanest bully some times. " it's been almost 6 years." I say to myself, as I cry in the shower..then why does it always feel like yesterday? I try to keep a smile on my face, enjoy the day but to those closest to me , they can always tell. "You ok?" I always answer the same "yea I'm good. Just tired." I'm not completely lying. I am tired. I am tired because I stress , I'm tired because I miss him, I'm tired because my anxiety makes my heart race like I just ran a marathon. Then to distract myself I go on Facebook some more. Give love to my widow sister's because I know they're feeling it too. Send extra love to my mother in law and honestly one of my favorite people in the world. She understands me and she understands my hurt. But then I see people sharing pictures of me and him, our intimate moments that we captured together, people who weren't always there, people who only know his birthday because of Facebook, people who promised me "if you need anything I'll be there", but they're not there even when called upon or they're there to make them selves look good, people who in public pretend i never existed or call me his ex-wife. And rhen theres those who act like I am their one good deed "I talked to a widow today where is my gold ribbon " I don't mind people remembering him and sharing their memories but don't pretend you're living with the same struggle I am or like his mother or his siblings or friends. (I never mind the ones that ask if they can share to honor him or the ones who share because they know its important it is to me. Its the ones who do ot for attention) They didn't know him like we knew him. They didn't know his favorite color or his favorite food. They don't know what it is like to have your heart ripped from your chest. To physically feel your heart break and have to keep going. To keep living without the one thing that made you actually want to live. They celebrate him on his birthday, memorial day and the day he died. But we are reminded everyday. I was sitting on my couch the other day and thought I should call Jerry haven't talked to him. For 2 seconds I forgot he was dead. Who does that..oh yea me when i am sleep deprived.  Does that happen to them? Do they only remember me because of our pictures and what I post? Do they have to worry about trying to explain to their children whos that man in the pictures that are hanging up, even though she isn't old enough to understand anything yet. No they don't. They celebrate him today, memorial day, is their day. I let them have it because every other day is mine.
Thank you for tuning in to this session from a bitter widow. Brought to you by wine fueled bitterness and an overall hatred for fake ass people.

7 years and first mother's day as a mom

 Tomorrow I would have been married for 7 years to the most amazing man I have ever met. If we had been able to follow our "life plan" I probably would have a 5-6 year old child by now as well. Its insane trying to picture what my life would be like if Jerry were still alive. October he will be gone for 6 years. That is a long fucking time to be without someone you pictured your life with. I am not talking about a bad break up or anything (trust me there are some people who tty to compare his death to a bad break up and I literally just stare at them because there is no carrot cake in prison), he's dead. Never coming back, buying his favorite cologne just so I can smell it, wearing his old ratty tshirts, watching videos so I don't forget what his voice sounds like, dead. I try my hardest to not let it show. I really do. I hear it all the time " Oh my God I had no idea, you don't act like someone who is a widow" Let's get a few things straight A. I am doing my best to make sure that my "Widowhood" does not define WHO I am B. How the fuck is a widow supposed to act? Should I wear black everyday with a veil over my face? (Let's be honest my wardrobe has always been mostly black so skip that one...I don't have a fucking veil tho) Should I be in my bed 24/7 avoiding any and everything that surrounds me? (Kind of sounds nice......) My point is, I have been called "That widow" or "that young widow" before. I have a fucking name, I am not that widow. I am RaiAnne, who just happens to be a widow. It is this reason I don't open up to new people. Its the reason I don't really vent to my friends or family about anything. I am more than my dead husband and he is more than that. He is my best friend, the love of my life and now my guardian angel (hopefully because lord knows I could use one).
 There was an article someone shared on Facecbook called I will always talk about my husband as if he were alive..or at least something like that. I screenshot part of it that really stuck out. It reads "But I hate the way that people look at me when I talk about you, like they find a way to change the subject, like the pain is still too fresh in my mind, like its dangerous for me to speak your name". This shit hit home. It happens to me all the time. I love sharing stories of Jerry. If you know me, than you know that. But it happens all the time, I will begin to talk about him and people will change the subject. It hurts. I miss him and I want to talk about the stupid shit we used to do. The time we got lost driving around post and swore we were gonna get arrested, or the time in high school when he got the cops called on him for playing Call of Duty. But I cant always share these stories with people because the minute I utter his name you can see the bugs crawling under their skin. For example at work the other day a co-worker had recently got a tattoo and we were discussing future plans for more tattoos. She mentioned getting her daughters handwriting so I showed her that I had Jerry's handwriting on my tattoo. I copied where he wrote I love you and made sure it was on me. She pointed out that she never really got a good look at my piece so I showed her and she asked some questions which doesn't bother me at all but I noticed the other people in the room becoming very uncomfortable. I ignored it and left after our conversation to go do a room, came back a few moments later to hushed voices. You ever walk into a room full of people and sense they were saying something they didn't want you to hear. Its a sense that, although may not be bad, they just didn't want to say it with you present. That is what I felt. Their eyes all avoided me. I get it, people feel bad because of what happened to me. It sucks I know. Death sucks. But ignoring it doesn't make it go away. I adore the people I work with (most anyway) and maybe the hushed tones had nothing to do with me, maybe it was for someone else. But I just had that punched in the gut feeling, when eye contact was avoided and everyone (who lets be honest is usually a rowdy bunch) suddenly fell silent. Not talking about Jerry doesn't mean he is going to go away. Not talking about a loved one who is gone is not going to make it hurt less. Treating me differently will though. Trust me when I say people who are grieving know. Now do we want you to be like "LETS TALK ABOUT YOUR DEAD HUSBAND TELL ME ALL THE DETAILS"...no we just want someone to listen. Someone to listen without feeling sorry for us. Do I speak for everyone? of course not, but I do know some people who would agree. I dont blame them though, death makes people uncomfortable.
       Now on to a lighter subject. Mother's day. This is my first mother's day as a mom. Pretty exciting. I decided to cook dinner for the family and a good mom friend of mine as well. Hopefully it goes well. I don't feel any different being a mom, except the fact that I need to watch her sleep because I am paranoid...cant help it. I like being a mom, not completely in love with it. That part kind of makes me feel like a shithead. Don't get me wrong I love peanut, she's my world. When she smiles it melts my heart. I just feel like she doesn't like me all that much lol. I know it sounds kind of strange or maybe it doesn't but to me it seems like she cries more when its just me and her or she'll scream louder or it takes me longer than anyone else to calm her down. I feel like I am supposed to have this awesome mom super power where I can instantly know how to calm my demon summoning screaming infant, but I don't. Like my eye liner (when I feel feisty) I wing it. I have no fucking clue what I am doing really. But she's fed, she's loved and she has a clean diaper....so I can't be doing that bad. Anyway super excited about tomorrow even though today was kind of shitty...nothing like arguing with your man about stupid shit. I know its because we're both stubborn (and mostly because he's a stupid jerk) but eventually my day will get better. If it doesn't the good news is there is only about an hour left before it is a new day. I love him but I do want to strangle him sometimes but I think that is true love. Having the ability and capability to strangle someone, but not doing it because you know you wouldn't want to live without him. *sigh* men. I would say I'd date women but I tried that and it didn't work too well for me LMAO Don't worry ladies I don't judge all of you based on one crazy bad apple. ;)
 Anyway all I can do is try and smile, knowing in heart I am trying to be the best fucking me I can. I am not perfect but I am not too bad of a fuck up either. You know what they say, Those who hurt the most, often smile the most and try their hardest to make those around them smile because they have been there in the sadness, in the darkness alone and would never want anyone else to feel that way....or something like that lol. Good night everyone and Happy Mother's day to all the human baby moms and the fur baby ones too.

 Happy anniversary Pooh bear. I love you and miss you more each day. 

#motherhood and other wonderful things

 So my little peanut is going to be 2 months old tomorrow. I cant believe how much she has grown in this short amount of time. And yes I know "Enjoy it now because it will go by quickly....If I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me I'd be rich...that and "Are you sure you want eat all that?" Yes, yes I'm sure. #bodybyjunkfood. But back to my main point, my little girl is getting big and I am in turn feeling better about being a mom. I am still nervous (there is plenty of time to mess her up psychologically) but getting more confident as the days go on. This morning we had a very loving mother daughter moment. Let me set the scene here.... So we were sitting on the couch and I was feeding her, her bottle shes smiling and I am thinking to myself, "Man I made one awesome baby....look how cute she is....full of smiles." would you like to know what else she was full of.....SHIT...SHE SHIT ON ME WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE. I have never felt so betrayed. All I felt was hot ass liquid running down my side. Damn baby is lucky shes cute. But anywayy when I work all day I do miss her but bro sends me pictures of them and it helps and work has almost totally killed my boob milk supply...ugh depressing.
 Work has been going pretty well. I do enjoy working in the back and training as a nurse. Blood draws from the jugular still terrify the living shit out of me but I am getting there. I got bit yesterday by a pug (asshole) but it wasnt really his fault. I asked a nurse for help and she took her sweet ass time and then since had already been poked at he was mad and bit me like 3 times. No marks thankful (at least physically...my ego is a bit damaged). But I needed to take a minute and walk away because I was gonna lose it. Nothing like wanting to strangle someone because they're incompetent. Working in the back you really have to trust and rely on the others back there. If a dog gets out or a dog is trying to eat your face it is important that you feel as if people have your back and will help you to prevent you from being eaten. I know what you might be thinking... "My little angel would never" Well I have news for you....Majority of the times I am being growled at, bit, peed on, shit on or scratched is your little shit dog...i mean angel.( No i mean shit dog).  But besides all that I really enjoy it and hope that I am at least doing well and that the ladies I work with are still happy that I am back there lol. (please dont regret your decision guys)
          In exactly 1 week it will be my 7th wedding anniversary to Jerry. Yes I still celebrate it because its special to me. Everyone knows and celebrates his birthday and the day he passed away but really only I know our wedding anniversary so for me this day is much more intimate for me. It is like my own little special grieving day. I dont know what I will be doing this year for it....I am pretty sure I am working and that will be kind of a good distraction at least for a little while. This time of year really sucks for me, which I am sure I have mentioned before. With Jerrys birthday and our anniversary it can be difficult for me to pretend to be normal I guess. We all have shit were dealing with and I do my best to let it not interfere with my work or school but it can be hard some days. Especially when it is a crazy work day and tempers are flaring and people are yelling and being unreasonable or acting like they are 2 years old because they cant get what they want.......(talking about yesterday) and then you get bit by a stupid pug. Ugh there are good days and bad lol
 But that is all for today. Time to go adult and clean and do laundry.

Let's get a few things straight

Ok first I need to apologize...i am writing this from my phone currently holding my sleeping child so there may be some grammatical errors. Hopefully you can find it in your hearts to look past them. On to the main post now.
So I am just done with stupid people. Everyday I am coming into contact with these people who for the life of me I can't figure out how they made it to adulthood without harming themselves in any shape. People do and say stupid shit everyday and don't get me wrong I've said and done some stupid shit but I've learned from my stupid shit mistakes so it baffles me that grown ass adults...some who are older than me...saying shit like what do you know about heartache.....or when I'm trying to help someone get out of a shitty situation and they keep making the same mistakes over and over. Like I'm running on empty. My empathy will never dry up but my patience will. I am just so tired of being emotionally available for people who can't take 2 seconds out of their <insrrt sarcasm> busy day to just see how I'm doing. Nope instead I run myself to the brink of exhaustion making sure everyone else is taken care of only to turn around and see fewer and fewer people in my corner. But you know what that's ok. For my sanity i need it to be ok.
   I am also running into a lot of fake people. Like why do you feel the need to lie to me. There is a very short list of things that will make me dislike you. 1. Stealing my food and 2  lying to my face. It's even worse if the lie is meaningless. Like some people truly believe that i am stupid but I can see through the bullshit. Yes I realize I am being very vague. This is because I don't need the people who upset me bring dragged into a blog post. I am not about attacking anyone by naming them. But I need to vent lol sorry.
I think I might be a little extra salty lately because jerry's birthday just passed and our wedding anniversary is in like 2 weeks. Also certain people who like the pretend I don't exist every other time of the year, all of the sudden want to talk to me when it comes to jerry's birthday or anniversary of his death. It's only then do they ask me how I am doing. I have run into them in public and they have literally turned around and walked away pretending they didn't see me. But when it makes them look good then it's ok to talk to me. Oh well sorry about the shit post. My anxiety is high and patience is thin. I  will write more when I've washed some of this salt off me ✌

Life with all its craziness

 So I am officially back to work now. So far it has been good I missed just bullshitting with adults. lol I am learning how to be a tech in the back and I really do enjoy it..except when I have to stick my fingers in a dogs ass but hey you take the good with the bad.
 At this point in my life I solely run off of caffeine..mostly coffee. So if you are ever thinking to yourself "I should get Rai something because she is the most amazing person ever!" get me coffee or give me money to get coffee. I LOVE COFFEE. just saying. Peanut has been doing really good with Bro when I am at work. With the exception of today when I had to rush home because she isn't feeling well and because of my anxiety I completely over reacted and I feel awful because I left work early to go home to make sure is ok and doesn't need to go to the doctor. YAY PANIC ATTACKS! I have been doing ok with dealing with my PTSD (and all that it entails) and Peanut. It hasnt been easy and i often feel really bad because it is like Bro has to take care of both me and peanut. There have been a few times I will be holding her and shes crying and Im crying and nothing I do will sothe her. That is usually when he comes to my rescue and I either feel better after a few minutes or feel like a complete failure as a mother. But he assures me that its ok and we are a team  and that I am doing the best I can. Which is what I really need to hear sometimes because fuck its depressing lol Also does not help that tomorrow would have been Jerry's 29th birthday...so there's that. When I was talking with my manager discussing when I would be able to return to work I told her I could this week as long as I had tomorrow off and she was nice enough to understand why and give me tomorrow off. I am nervous about how tomorrow will go seeing as I now am super sensitive because of hormones, started my period and still trying to adjust to peanut. But I have Bro who is an amazing dad. Its so natural to him and for me its the opposite. I have no idea what I am doing most of the time and just pray when she cries it isn't something that cant be fixed with a bottle, diaper, burp or cuddles. Shes so relaxed with him too, its cute they sleep together...which I have started to get more with. I will nap with her but not for to long because I am afraid I will smush her. No co sleeping for me and that is ok because I already have both dogs that will not leave my side ever. and sometimes my fat kitty who currently is trying to sit on my laptop.
 I am really looking forward to July this year because I got accepted to go to Minnesota for about 4 days to be with other military widows. I've never been that far and apparently the place is super beautiful. I really need it because right now my widow tank is running on fumes. I was super close to having a breakdown at work. This time of year is always difficult because april is his birthday and may is our wedding anniversary so its back to back. Plus i am back at work, have a newborn, and am trying to advance at work.
 I like learning how to be a tech at work but I also feel really dumb and in the way because I don't know the terms yet or what certain diagnoses means. Also everyone has been doing this for so long that it is second nature and I feel as if I am slowing them down. I have gotten attitude from one on my first day back and it took everything I had not to say something to her but I just held my tongue and went about my day learning with my other co worker who is awesome. There are a few there that I tend to gravitate more to because I feel like I annoy them less and that they don't mind showing me the ropes. Speaking of work I somehow managed to work an entire day with Peanuts pacifier in my bra. How you ask? well let me tell you. You see when I woke her up to feed her this morning I put her bink in my bra because when you have big boobs wearing a sports bra allows you to have a purse on your chest. So I put it in there so I wouldn't loose it...(irony) Well when I was done feeding her (in my defense it was like 6am) I couldn't find it and pretty much thought it just fell into the couch never to be seen again (or until bro cleans under there) shrugged my shoulders and grabbed the other one from the sink never to think about the missing one again. Now I pumped at work, but in my car so i didn't really undo my bra like I normally would. When I came home I took off my bra to put on my ghetto makeshift hands free pumping bra ( I made one out a sports bra *Thanks Brittany* because get real I don't even spend 40 dollars on cute bras that aren't for pumping or breast feeding why the fuck am I going to spend it on a bra with 2 holes in it. Hence why I made my own) and boom bright green pacifier. I look over to Bro and ask "does she have a bink"
Bro: "yes why"
Me: "which one did you use all day" hoping that i really didn't work all day with a damn pacifier in my bra
Bro: " the blue one why" At this point I hold up the binkie, "that's been in your bra all day hasn't it?"
I just nod and start to laugh. #bigboobproblems I guess. Either that or someone thought I deserved to laugh today.
 Well I guess that is all for today Here are some cute pictures of my kid for reference. Like always let me know if you have questions or feel free to comment..I am obviously not shy about anything and cant really be offended....Im pretty sure I am immune.

 
 
 

 I mean come on look at that face. 

Good baby, my keurig hates me, widow things and wasted liquid gold

 My little peanut is a month old :) Its so nice knowing that I've managed to keep her alive this long without anything happening (I'm actually going out with my bestie today to celebrate,..so its a big deal). She is quite the amazing baby though. I really cant complain too much. I am jealous of her life though...eat, sleep, and poop...and someone cleans and feeds you what a magical life. #jealous. She did a newborn photo shoot courtesy of Brittany (whose all around amazing) who bought us a gift certificate for it. Check my cute ass baby out. <3 And a big thank you to Violet Joy Photography for these AMAZING pictures.

 

 
 
UGH LIKE I CANT HANDLE HOW ADORABLE SHE IS! I look at these when I get overwhelmed to remind myself how much I love her lol Is that bad to admit? probably. But she is doing fantastic, doctor says she is healthy which is what really matters. There was a little bit of a health scare in the beginning because they were worried about her soft spot. It was very small and of course they didn't tell me what that means so what did I do? something I know better to do....I turned to Dr. Google. WHY WOULD I DO THAT TO MYSELF?? Don't ever google anything health related. Its all terrifying. But no need to worry now. At her last check up they said she is growing just fine.
     So I have been up since 4am which isn't a big deal for  me because its usually when I wake up anyway. However it usually isn't a problem because I have coffee. Sweet, reliable, loving coffee. This morning my Keurig decided it wanted to clog up and not brew. fuck you Keurig, withholding my delicious nectar of the Gods. Took me a few minutes and a lot of cursing to fix it. But I got whats mine. (Give me a break I'm sleep deprived). I think every new mom should receive a free coffee pot and a  3 month supply of coffee. And you may be thinking "But I don't like coffee" well you need to re-evaluate your life choices, like seriously sit down and think about why you're so wrong. Coffee=life. Of course I am kidding...you're not wrong just weird.
       So on to widow things, I will be going to a retreat in Minnesota in July. Its just for a few days but I am super nervous to be away from Peanut but I trust Bro. He is great with her and its so sweet to see him read to her and nap with her. Melts my cold dead heart. I recently started following this woman on facebook, who is a military widow and she is funny as hell. Her name is Michelle Miller, she has written a book and she post some seriously funny (and sad, but ACCURATE) feelings and stories about being a widow, One of my favorite things she posts about is "How to talk to a widow without making an ass of yourself" tips. #603 for example is " Don't say: Ill PRAY for you Do say: Ill PAY for you......and then take her shoe shopping." She is vulgar and honest and I aspire to be her. I was reading something she posted the other day that had to deal with grief sex that totally opened my eyes to something I've noticed. She talks about how when you're husband dies there are 2 types of people. Type 1: The widow who has no interest in ever having sex with anyone other than there husbands and type 2: The wild widow. She compares it to grief eating. You either don't eat anything when you're upset or you stuff your face. But there is a stigma on both....I should know. (MOM LOOK AWAY I'M GOING TO TALK ABOUT MY SEX LIFE AND DONT WANT TO HAVE AWKWARD CONVERSATIONS ABOUT IT LATER WITH YOU....LOVE YOU MOMMY) When Jerry died I did wait a while before "jumping in the saddle" with someone. I did know them which I guess is better than random Tinder hook ups...although tinder wasn't around when Jerry died so who knows. But anyway I got really dirty nasty looks when people found out I was having an "active" social life again, But the sex took my mind off what I was feeling. I was able to disconnect from my shitty reality for a while (or not depending on who I was with....that was mean lol cant help myself). But when others found this out I was treated like a whore (EVEN THOUGH most of the people at his funeral, for fucks sake, would remind me of how young i was and how I shouldn't worry because I would find someone else.....like seriously DONT EVER SAY THAT TO SOMEONE WHOSE HUSBAND JUST DIED,)and acted like I was cheating on Jerry. But he was dead....wasn't like he was away on a business trip and expected to return...he was dead and can you cheat on someone who is dead? Now here's the fucked up thing, I did feel like I was cheating on him and I would go home and cry and drink my sorrows away. I would literally sit in my parents bathroom with a picture of him and cry and say sorry. I felt awful afterward because while I was able to escape life for a brief time, the realization would always come back and hit me like a semi truck. But on the other side of the spectrum, if I didn't date anyone people would be concerned (there was a brief time I was single and not mingling) I would get told that I needed to go out and meet people. I guess they were concerned I would become a hermit or something...adopt 100 cats and name them all Jerry in his memory (Cat remember that conversation?? LMAO....Long running joke between me and my sister)  So in short being a widow with a sex life is a damned if you do and damned if you don't situation. But remember just because I'm with someone else doesn't mean I don't miss him every day of my life and love him any less. He is and will always be a part of me and if you don't like it well, you know where the door is. (MOM ITS SAFE TO CONTINUE READING)
        On to a breast feeding story some of you moms might be able to relate to. So since Peanut is currently sleeping and my tatas were quite full (trying to boost my supply so I'm taking supplements) I decided to pump. So what I usually do is pump 20 min each side. No biggie I usually read articles on my phone, watch YouTube videos or just sit there trying to make light of the fact I feel like a moo cow hooked up to those automatic milking machines. So anyway 40 minutes later I am all done pumping, happy with my results I walk over to the sink to wash my pump and but the liquid  gold in the fridge for my baby to enjoy later. As I finish washing everything I turn around to put a lid on the bottle (You probably see where this is going) I HIT IT WITH MY ELBOW. Knocks over the bottle all over me and the counter. So I stand there staring at the aftermath of my poor decision making skills (WHY COULDN'T I JUST PUT THE MILK AWAY FIRST...because that would make sense) covered my boob milk, fighting back tears. So its been a pretty good morning. After the initial shock i kind of just laughed it off, changed my clothes and cleaned up my mess. It can always be worse.
 As always thank you for reading, if you have any questions or comments please don't hesitate to let me know I am always happy to answer anything. Much love.