What if I told you NOT to tell?

Welcome to my newest blog.  I just thought it was time I actually wrote what I thought. So... since this is the first blog entry for this blog... it should be an introduction, don't you think? Well, I don't care what you think. You can click that little X at the top right of the page or that arrow that indicates back.

Still here? Awesome. I was worried for a minute there! Who am I? Well to be honest, I have no fucking clue. I mean I know my name and facts about myself but who you are is more than that, it's all of that and all of the annoying habits that we accumulate over the years, all your traumas and all your successes and all those things you forgot about. So let me just tell you a little about myself instead.

I am Leah. I am a twenty-four year old Army wife and mother of two. For some of you going "oh no! another army wife bitching about how good she has it" let me stop you. I am not your typical army wife and I wouldn't even say most army wives are the so-called typical wives that we hear about and they aren't like that show Army Wives because no one has houses that nice or has most of the things you see on that show. I love to read. And when I say I love to read, I really mean I LOVE to read. I am obsessed with books and building a book collection that rivals libraries. At this point, not including the books I've downloaded to my kindle and only counting real books, I'd say I own somewhere around 500 books. And yes, I've read them all. Some of them more than once and some of those, countless times. I also love watching TV, mostly odd sitcoms that get canceled (damn those huge tv corporations that don't see that the tv shows with the least viewings are some of the best, cheesy rainy day shows) and dramas that have nothing to do with reality. I also run a household and have two pets that are a constant pain in the ass (and of course, loved as much as children! Trust me, I have kids. I would know!) I tend to write weird things that never get published online because I originally thought that my thoughts were proof that I wasn't sane but I've come to realize that maybe they are... or maybe that's just what I want to tell myself now that I'm going to be sharing them with the world.

Let's see, I also have a husband. See that guy on the left side of my page? Yep, that's my husband. His name is Steve. Or Dork, Husband, Werewolf guy I married, or any of the number of other titles I call him. He's smart, like super smart. He's got one Master's degree and another is about to be completed within a year. Also, he's kind of a Captain in the Army. (I also think he's insane because he married me, but he loves me for some strange reason I'll never understand, but appreciate.) He's also a huge source of laughs for me. I enjoy when I get to tell him about my day and he just smiles at how enthusiastic I am about it. I also enjoy beating him up. See, he's super tall, well not super, but tall. At six foot three inches, he stands one foot and one inch taller than me... Or thirteen inches taller than me. Yes, I am making you do math to figure out how tall I am... or rather short I am. Because he's so much bigger than me, I'm allowed to beat him up. It's the law. And if it isn't, it should be.

We have two kids. Lily, our five year old daughter, and Jax, our three-almost-four year old son. These two are spectacularly cute, amazingly annoying and terrifically funny. Seriously, they always make me laugh and sometimes the only reason I haven't thrown them in the garbage (other than it being illegal and I do love them to bits, of course) is because they are so adorable. I can be raging mad at them and they turn it around by giving me kisses or say something that is so weird and off-the-wall that I have to laugh. Thus their survival to this age.

Our pets are a cat and a dog. They are a long story but that's for another time (because my arm is cramping from writing this and I know that I still haven't even covered what I want to...)

I started this new blog because of a few reasons. I know that I've been blogging for what seems like the majority of my life (well, since Xanga and we all know how long ago that was, ummm 9th grade?! So 2001-2, so about 10 years.) and I feel like I've always been lacking something. Well today, I have thought about it and I'm going to be creating a new blog, importing all my old blog entries and starting over with the design and all that because... well I want to.

Anyways, maybe part of this happened because of Jenny Lawson. You don't know who Jenny Lawson is???  She is, without a doubt, my new hero. Steve says that I'm obsessed but since I don't know her personally, I'll just have to go with very, very interested in her work, not her. I don't know her, so I'm not a psycho-stalker. You have to know someone in person to be a psycho-stalker. But I digress. What is important is why Jenny Lawson has become a common name my wonderfully accepting husband can recognize.

I just bought "Let's Pretend This Never Happened" by Jenny Lawson. She is the author of that wonderfully funny and weirdly cute blog called the Bloggess. Well, I've only managed to get through the first three chapters so far, because I started reading it outloud to my husband. And now it's become a bonding experience. Kind of like "Look at how fucked up this woman lived and see, I'm not so weird now because there's someone else who thinks the Zombie Apocolypse is no laughing matter." Well, he finds it more off-the-wall funny than relatable like I do, but either way, me reading to him like he was a blind, old man in a retirement home is actually a very beautiful bonding moment. Anyways, the book. I love it. I think it's actually seeping into my head and making me think that my every thought is worth sharing. Like, this morning I tried to pinch my husband's nipple and I did but I pulled and he swore that I would pull it off but I told him they sell replacements online, and the Army doesn't care if he's one nipple short anyways. But again, I digress. Read "Let's Pretend This Never Happened," By Jenny Lawson aka the Bloggess. Super funny and totally going to offend. :)

Anyways, I have become completely obsessed with sharing my every thought with my husband, who I'm thinking is now afraid to be alone with me, judging by the fact that while I'm upstairs blogging, he's down in the garage, gaming on his laptop, hiding from me. Not that this is new. Actually, it's not new at all. He's always down there when he has time off work, unless I ask him to hang out with me. But still, I think now he's truly worried about my sanity or his safety or perhaps both. I can't be sure.

Also today, I made a discovery: Apparently, my dog likes candy. But not just the candy, the wrappers too. I found this out by discovering a pile of poop with candy wrappers inside of the poop. I'm a little jealous. I can't process wrappers quite so well. I'm not even upset by him stealing my pez or my chocolate. At first I was worried that the chocolate would kill him but then he took a big dump in the side yard, so I knew he'd be fine. I am jealous that while he can have all this candy and the wrappers too, he doesn't seem to gain weight or have a problem with choking or digesting said wrappers. Unfair if you ask me. I know you didn't, that's why I'm sharing!!!


I'm also doing laundry today, because that's what Moms are for, although I think it is kind of pointless. I mean, not the washing or drying of the laundry, that has a point. It becomes clean and wearable again without getting weird looks in public or having people whisper behind your back about how you smell funny or having Child Welfare called on you because your kids are in clothes that have never be washed. Always wash your clothes. That's important. It's the other thing that's pointless.I hate putting away laundry. I know we're all going to wear it again so it seems a waste to fold it and put it away. Especially since I'll pull out half of everything I own in a day to find something to wear and then just leave it there until it gets washed again or I find something I want to wear a few days from the first day I pull it out. And my kids always end up pulling most everything they own out while showing me what they want to wear, which makes me crazy because then I either have to put it away again, or just pretend it got worn and throw it in a laundry basket. I will not admit to what I actually do. 


Anyways, I'm folding laundry and every member of my household has more underwear in this load than I do. Which means, my family wears underwear every day. But I'm curious about other people. I'm curious whether other people wear underwear. I do and I don't. It depends on what I'm wearing. If I wear a skirt or dress, yes, I do. But if I put on a pair of jeans, I don't. I think this is economical. Like you save money washing underwear and also, this means you need less pairs between laundry days. Also, I don't like panty-lines. But it's ok sometimes, like if I'm wearing short-shorts, then I like to say "yes, my jean shorts look like boys underwear but really, I am wearing a real pair underneath." So, this leaves me curious of whether other people wear underwear. And I don't know why this is what I'm curious about today. I guess I just don't care enough to know who you will vote for or if you are eating healthy or if that one little kid your friend knows finally got that marble unstuck from his nose. No, my concern is your underwear wearing cycles.


But that's all I have to say for now....




Oh wait, it's not. I have something else. 


I bought the world's best 99 cent kindle book:::::::


"Bedtime Stories for Children You Hate"... I might cry from being so excited to read these to my husband as we go to sleep... I may also read these to my kids when they are bad or make me crazy... (Ok, mostly kidding about reading them to my children, I hate when they have nightmares. I have to get up and make them feel better and then I'm just sooo tired the next day so I better skip reading these to them and just focus on giving my husband nightmares. He can comfort himself, or if not, at least I don't have to get up.)


Anyways, that's it for my first blog of a new blog... Shhhh, don't tell.