Yes, this is my life

 I have many personality flaws. One is self restraint, especially in the area of keeping my opinions to myself. Its something that I have to work on daily. Some of it ADD but its mostly just me. Today, I exercised what little self restraint I do posses. It was super duper hard. But, I did it. *patting myself on the back* My niece posted a photo of her little brother (not a relation to me. Her mom has hree babies, three baby daddies) on Facebook. He was wearing hunting camouflage.The same kind my former husband/her uncle/my sons father wears. I said "Hes wearing Camo just like *Uncle Tony*. Nice!" Harmless. No biggie. Not another thought. I came back on a few hours later to see her aunt (Her moms sister, not related to me and has hated me since highschool when I stole her boyfriends) commented "No, hes wearing an outfit like *'some other douchebag-not relevant to the story'*. Please do not associate him with *Tony*". I was baffled and also offended. I the

I turned 16 in 1995. I got my drivers license on the first try at 8am, in a snow storm on my 16th birthday. That was in January. The high point of my teenage experience! The rest of the year, a series of low points and the absolute worst year of my teens. I have to start in 1991. I moved to a small town outside of St. Louis. It was my 12th move and it was not unlike the ones before it. I met a girl after we settled. We became the best of friends. We had our own language, we shared our secrets, or religion and our dreams. She was the childhood friend Judy Blume told us about. Although we were growing and finding ourselves we somehow stayed close. In 1993, She came to my house hysterical. She told me a story that to this day I can remember every single word. She told me that evening after being in the sun all day and her back was burned, she asked her father to rub lotion on her back. He did but he didnt stop at her back. She said she couldnt move. She couldnt speak. She couldnt believ

Rarely do I ever share my political or spiritual views as I feel that they are personal. However... Next month marks my husbands 18th year with the Marines. It is also the 2nd anniversary of my cousins death. He was killed in Iraq. He was only 25. It is such a mixture of emotion but the common feeling is pride. I am so proud of both boys. This week, the supreme court sided with Westboro Baptist Church. It was a slap in the face. The irony that WBC members are protected by the same constitution the service members died protecting is twisted. I cant speak for all military wives but I will tell you that I take every killed or wounded service member personally. I cannot hear Taps or see a flag draped casket without choking up. I cannot help but think I could be her. He could be my husband. I empathize so deeply. I want to tell them I how proud I am of them, how grateful I am for their service. In that moment she is in the most vulnerable place possible and nothing that we do or say can ma