My 12 year old son, Jordan, has more presents than he knows what to do with.  He should currently be cleaning his room to make space for all these new things, but each time I poke my head in there he's playing with something else.  haha

I got to spend time at my mom's Christmas day with Jordan and my brother, then off to Dad's that afternoon to spend time with him, my step-mother and sister.  Was such a loooong day!  after eating 2 full meals I had flash backs of Thanksgiving where I felt like I might burst from eating too much.  like Violet in Charlie and the Chocolate factory.  lol  I got home that night and passed out on the couch.  that's how incredibly worn out I was!

I got to see lots of great friends I haven't seen in a while this week-  Casey and Geoff...  they were part of my lil posse when I was about 12 or 13...  and Geoff was my first kiss (awww)  I hadn't seen him since he moved to Wisconsin (sp?) in like 10th grade.  He and his wife were in town to visit family- and Casey looks just the same as he did when we were younger.  So much fun to share stories and memories of all the trouble we used to get into.  and then I wonder what MY 12 year old is up to...  :)

A lot of relationship talk over the holidays too...  it's funny how this time of year brings people together and tears them apart.  I have friends who made up just to have a date for NYE and others who broke up simply because of the pressures of the gift giving...  I always seem to give better advice to my friends than I do to myself, and happened to stumble on these quotes about men-  they pretty much fit if you're together or apart. 

Men play the game; women know the score. ~ Roger Woddis

When a man points a finger at someone else, he should remember that four of his fingers are pointing at himself. ~ Louis Nizer

So now you see why I've had a craaazy busy holiday!  I may be moving in the next month or two as well, so that's exciting.  Still in Plano, but a spot I like much better than I'm in now.  Will keep ya posted on how that goes.

I hope your crazy busy time with family and friends was just as enjoyable as mine was.  The family may be Jerry Springer worthy, but they're family and there's no better feeling than knowing they will always be there.  Even if you could write a book about them and make millions.  Maybe that's the new year resolution this year...  you and I need to get on that!  hehe

Have a very SAFE and happy new year!

Priscilla

 I got this in an email, wanted to share with you.  Hope you and your family have a save and happy holiday! And don't forget the soldiers who are still fighting for us overseas...    Priscilla

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.


"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..


To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.


No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.


I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.


I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."


" So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."


Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

PLEASE, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our
U.S service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people
stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq

I was at the doctor yesterday for a routine visit, and it came to my attention that I might be behind on some of my shots...  oh joy!!

Kinda strange, but I hate needles, yet have several tattoos.  go figure.

anywhoo- the Dr said that if I ever want to travel (I get to do that a lot because my mom works for an airline) I will need to get these updated anyways, why not now?  oh suuuure. 

So I got a shot in my left arm for Tetnus and Protusis (sp?)  and in the right arm I got my hep A and B.  the DR actually asked if I wanted to get both at the same time-  the nurse could help.  ummmm NO!  I'd like to focus on my pain one arm at a time.

So this was yesterday at like 1pm.  By about 4pm my arm hurt so bad all I could think of was going home and putting a heating pad on it.  I passed out on the couch at 6:30.  that's not a good thing cause I was supposed to go to a house-warming party at 8p.  not so much.  I woke up at 9:30 and my arm still hurt. 

It's now a lil over 24 hours and the right arm is ok-  the left arm (tetnus) hurts like someone punched it as hard as they could.  I keep looking to see if there is a giant black and blue bruise or something.  haha

but on the positive side, I'm as updated as I could possibly be and won't get any random diseases.  yay me.

Every girl should have a "girly night" 

I totally did that last night with my best friend Allison-
we went and did mani's and pedi's at a REALLY cool place in plano...  pimp massage chairs... and they let you keep a lil bottle of whatever polish you pick!  they offered us free drinks as well so we had a glass of white (they also have soda)

after that, we drove down the street and had some sushi.  we giggled, gossiped and pointed out cute boys at the bar.  haha

Overall a great night.  I feel stress free today-  got the arm and leg massages with the mani/pedi and then got out any and all frustrations talking to her. 

I totally recommend it.  :) 

Hope you have an awesome day!  weekend's almost here! YAY!
Priscilla

I got this email forwarded to me, couldn't help but post it. and check out www.uswoundedsoldiers.com

~Priscilla~

 

 


If you read this, you WILL forward it on. You just won't be able to stop yourself.

The average age of the military man is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under
normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not
old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work
and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's, but he has never collected unemployment either.


He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away. He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and a 155mm howitzer.

He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk. He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.


He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.

He can march until he is told to stop, or stop until he is told to march.

He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity. He is self-sufficient.

He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry.

He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts.

If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands.
He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.

He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay, and still find ironic humor in it all.

He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime.


He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.

He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away ' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking.

In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.


He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.
Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

And now we even have women over there in danger, doing their part in this tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.

As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot.

A short lull, a little shade and a picture of loved ones in their helmets.

Please send this on and remember our troops!

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