everyone wants to find their soul mate. but what do you do when your soul mate is a woman?and you are too. does being your soul mate mean that that's the person you're supposed to be with? that you're supposed to marry them? i'm not trying to head into the 'life partner' section of things. i don't bat for that team. i'm a guy's girl. not a girl's girl. my soul mate just happens to be female. whatdayado?

so the other night we are at my uncle's house. having a halloween party. and my cousin. my bestest cousin, August, says to me..."Did you bring your wife to the party?" me? i laugh. August? she was halfway serious. but not really. my wife? she just busts into hysterics. and grabs my hand and says "why yes. yes she did!"

let me preface by saying i am NOT married. i DO NOT have a wife. i don't have a husband either. i just have kids. and my person. now...about my person...

that person to me is my BFF. i've referred to her on here quite a few times. i have a ton of best friends. a ton of cousins and family. but she is my person. i have other friends that are close on other levels and to other degrees. and by no means are they not a crucial part of my life.

our relationship is unique. we are more like a married couple than her and Juice are. it just happens. when it's us and the kids we bicker at each other in public like we're married. and have a tendency to be too comfortable with each other. we touch too much. and laugh too much. we 'us' and 'our' too much. all the kids call us mom. or 'other mother'. we hate other people in our space. i have a bubble. and you don't belong in it. but with each other...the bubble doesn't exist. at all. we think the same. we don't have to even say anything sometimes. we can just look. and know. we spend hours on the phone. talking? not always. sometimes we just sit there. or we will be on the computers, im'ing each other and on the phone. just to have each others input. even if that input is silence. it's a comfort thing.

i know. we. are. weird.

but hey. it's us.

i'm bringing all this up because right now she's stressed. which means i'm stressed. sometimes it sucks to be so connected to people. really. i'm having sympathy poops. that doesn't happen you say. seriously?? it happens. trust me. so right now we are on pins and needles. see the most perfect house is on the chopping block. it would be a rental/lease. but i think it's a place they could stay in. could eventually buy. and stay. longterm. what does this house mean? it means she's closer to me. yay me!!! (shut it! i can be selfish). but it also means a new start. a smaller ISD for the kids. and the possibility that Juice may not have to go overseas again. so all in all...it's a good thing. and right now we are waiting. well...she is waiting. but i am waiting too. sickening. and her and i...we talk things out. that's how we work. so here i am. talking it out. with you. my 'other' people.

you should feel special. cause i'm sharing.

and i'm not always a sharing kinda person.

Waking up early. Running a ton. Learning great stuff about weapons, how much combat boots hurt your feet, and how to apply camo face paint.

I spent a lot of time hanging out at the Navy barracks with my classmates. Sitting outside playing cards or dominoes, and drinking a variety of beverages. During this time I met one sailor in particular. We didn't really get along very well. He was arrogant. Always coming back to the barracks from his martial arts and showing off by doing as many pull ups as he could. With that glance over his shoulder that said 'Uh huh...you know you want some of this'. I couldn't stand him. And apparently I was a bitch. Ehh. Yaknow.

Eventually the arrogant pull up'er and the bitch realized the parts we couldn't stand about each other were really, really attractive. Yeah, don't ask. And honestly, it was the best relationship I have ever had. Ever. There was no jealousy. No fighting. No arguing. It was awesome.

At the end of March I was moving on from Texas to Georgia. Here I was getting ready to move to the east coast of the U.S., leaving someone I cared about. I wasn't too happy about it. When I got into the car to head home I hurled out the window. What?!? Really?!? WTF? Long story short...there was a bun in the oven.

My life changed forever that day. I had my paperwork to go into P.A. school and I was on my way to being a doctor. Needless to say, I wasn't very happy about it. My life was ruined.

Over the years there were good times and bad times. Things weren't always good. But somewhere in all the darkness there were laughs. At the time I didn't want to be a mom...and I'm sure the thought ran through her mind that she wished to have been handed a different parent. Eventually we learned to live with each other. In our little messed up world. Things got better and worse all at the same time. It was hard. I wasn't an affectionate person. And neither was she. Eventually it would come to light that she had Asperger's. (That's another story for another post.) We grew up together. We cried together. We laughed together. We figured it all out together. Eventually we got it. And eventually...I learned to be a mother. And for the first time, since my own mother had passed, I loved.

I had figured out what the phrase 'love of your life' meant. This little creature that I had resented. That I had blamed for so long. That I didn't understand how to take care of or love. That I was afraid of. This little innocent creature...had taught me to love. And the meaning of being loved.

My little creature turned 12 this year on October 24th. In the last 12 years a lot of things have happened to my live. I now have two girls. A job that makes my GI system miserable. My aging dad living with us. And a LOT of grey hair.

All those years ago I never imagined what the long term was. Some women are born to be mothers. Me...not so much. From that first pink plus sign on the pee stick to a pre-teen. It just didn't sink in. I think I'm doing ok. Neither of my girls have injured anyone. At least to the point of hospitalization. And they are both mentally stable. (For the most part) Twelve years ago I did something that I thought would ruin my life. But I see now...it was the best thing I ever accidentally did.

If I had it to do all over again? I just don't know some days. But today...sitting here looking at my 12 yr old sometimes frustrating, always funny, totally Aspie preteen... no. I love it. All of it. Even the bad days. She is growing into a young woman. And eventually that little pink plus sign will grow up enough that it's time to leave my house. That day I will have an aneurysm. But today I have a 12 year old that just started her womanly duty, and she needs my help.

The aneurysm will have to wait.

Happy Birthday Big'K!!! I love you to the moon and back!