Florida bliss, Florida love

Marianne here. What a fantastic few days we've had. And as I sit here tonight watching NCIS with my Dad, a patriotic support the troops commercial comes on, and I realize just how good I've got it. I am so blessed to have such wonderful support as I've gone through some of the toughest challenges I've faced. It's been hard, really hard some days, and others have been the best of my life. Not having Clint around has been so random, and reflective, and emotional, and strengthening at the same time. Cue baby cries. I'll be back...

K. I've been wanting to write it, get it out, for a while. Finally feeling like I'm getting a bit more perspective on this whole deployment thing. I've been mad, really mad. No, not at the birth, or right after. But when Y and I had to leave the hospital. For some reason that moment pissed me off more than any. Who knows why? Maybe prior I was distracted by my hopes of birth and what was happening, maybe it was like after an injury and the adrenaline stops, shock starts. But, yeah, that point I was mad as hell. Sorry, Mom. And then I was sad, depressingly sad. Throughout the holidays, our anniversary, getting over the hump of six weeks of postpartum. But, I faced that, went and saw a professional, and now I'm good. And there was the physical breakdown. When my body just said enough already, you have to much on your plate, and took a break. Literally. I lost conciousness for a bit, maybe two minutes, but it was my body saying that it had enough. And then the parenting let downs. When I've screamed a bit too loud, a bit too long, and then I feel like the worst Mom in the world. And I apologize. After it all, I can then have a day like today. A perfect day. A day where Y sleeps on me for nap, smiling every few minutes when I just know he is having a wonderful dream. And play with Reed and Hayes in the pool as I havent in too long. Being silly, having the best of times, without a care in the world. And walking home on the beach with them. Knowing Y is cuddled up with Dad, in possibly his favorite spot-my Dad's calm arms, while I can explore a sea jelly through the eyes of a five year old, or dig shells like a two year old (but so close to three). So, yeah, I know we'll be alright, the five of us, when we're reunited. And when I look out across the ocean and am deep in my thoughts I realize that I'm not the one missing a thing.

With that, enjoy our incredible family, that's enough typing and opening of my heart for one night:).