I write..

I write because:

I write because most of the time it comes naturally to me.

I have written in one form or another since I was little.

I write because I have forgotten things I would have liked to have recorded in some way and shared perhaps only with Mackenzie. I write to record thoughts, feelings, events, pictures... etc.

I write for my children to share about their childhood unfortunately its the good and bad.

I write for Mackenzie for all of the time he missed and everything I want to share with him. I write for Mackenzie.

I have had a blog since my old life. I remember my first blog on Livejournal. Its still there 

I have used Yahoo 360, Myspace, Xanga, Open Diary and other pages.  Look here

I blogged then to vent I am sure my friends were tired of  me nagging about one ex or another.

I still vent on my blog but I try not to get as deep as I used to. I wonder if that's why my comments and views went down since I became an Army Wife. 

I have a blog to write my experiences as a wife, daughter, sister, friend, Army Wife, Army Mom, and mother to kids of all different ages. I write as my experiences dealing with Aspergers. I write with my experiences in my journey as being a spouse and step mom to someone in the Military. I write for those of who've dealt with depression or mental illness or any illness at all. I have. I have overcome challenges. I defy odds.  I write for you if you can relate to being a widow, a new mom, a military wife, a military mom, I write for you.

I write because its an outlet. Its an outlet for me to express myself without laying my crazy head on some one's shoulder. I am very well aware that I am a lot to handle. The pure number of therapists and their exasperation at me wasn't my first hint. Very little people can handle all this so at least as I lay it out in a blog its in bits and pieces and you can tune me out, X out of my blog, and never come back. But I want you to come back. I love comments and feedback for the good and the bad (just not too bad okay?) I write for me.

I write because I am an emotional person. I am a talkative person. Its therapeutic for me to write.

Its therapeutic if I can read what I wrote and remember everything about that moment. There is comfort in my blog. In my home away from home

I write for the memories. Memories fade especially as you get to be elderly or you loose childhood memories as you grow so I write for my future self. I write for Alex, James, Skylar, Rick, and William.

I write because I have met many people over the years in my Mommy Support Group online and they like to hear about things I might forget to email. A lot of us have moved on from the email groups because our kids are growing up, we have started working, gotten busy or whatever the reason. Thanks to Facebook and my blog they still have a view into my life. I write for my Online Friends and Family. I write for my Mommy Group Friends.

I wrote while my husband was deployed so encase I didn't get to talk to him on the phone or I forgot to tell him something I would write and rant about my day to day on my blog as long as it wasn't too personal. I write for my husband. After all I owe my blog for introducing us ;)

I write because we are a military family. Being a military family the best way to share what is going on in my world with my extended family spread all out is to share it on my blog. I wish my mom had internet and a computer.. maybe soon. I write for Rick's family and my family.

I write because I wouldn't remember my cat's birthday's LOL. I blogged about when we got Tinker Bell and when we got Mittens.

I write on a blog because paper is too easily destroyed, misplaced, or worse. When I wrote things down in high school and middle school I used a special type of Five Star Notebook with the spiral on top. Do I have those now? No I wish I did even though my poems are probably embarrassing it was me at 15 & 16. I have been published I don't have any of that either. I write this because things are lost and forgotten.

I write this blog to inspire. Perhaps a new military wife will read this blog and realize she has the strength to survive a hard deployment. A single mom has the fight of fight left in her. A lost Christian can find their way back. A widow will learn it doesn't heal but it does get easier. I write to a mother who has lost her husband or her child as I have and just tell her to hold on. If I can educate one person with my experiences my blog has done what I want it to. I have survived child abuse, domestic violence, sexual assault, I've been widowed, lost the rights to my child, and I can survive two deployments! Go me! I write this blog to spread laughter. I am no comedian but I am sure something my kids have done is funny or perhaps a funny story or graphic made you smile.

I write on StormyAries Creations http://stormyariescreations.blogspot.com/ to show off. To teach. To keep track of what I do and what I create. To list ideas. To try new ideas. Its my creative side.

I write because its who I am.

Again I wanted to share Bad Ass Marine.

This still has the same effect on me as the first time I saw it. I wish President Obama would listen if he hasn't. This poem refueled the fire that I thought had kindled down after 2 deployments and leaving the Army life behind and seemingly to get the cold shoulder from others.
I know my passion to serve never died. I have wanted to join the military since I was 18 and tried to join three branches of service myself. 9/11 was what made me stop actually in all honesty I was going to MEPS the next day.
What is your opinion on the poem?



Lyrics (from BadAssMarine.com):
Free

and She called...
Blacks, Whites...wait
African Americans and Caucasians, Asians, excuse me.
Vietnamese, Philipenes, Koreans and Jamaicans or
Haitans, waitin' Hispanics y'all.

Please be paitent
Mexican, Puerto Ricans, Venezualean, Cuban, v Dominican, Panamanian Democrats
I beg your pardon, you partied with the late, great Reagan?
Republican, Independent, Christian, Catholic,
Methodist, Baptist, 7th Day Adventist, 5 Percenters,
Hindu, Sunii Muslim, Brothers and Sisters who never seen the New York city
skyline when the twin towers still existed.
But still She called.

From the bowels of Ground Zero she sent this 911 distress signal.
Because She was in desperate need of a hero,
and didn't have time to decipher what to call 'em,
so she called 'em all Her children.
The children of the stars and bars who needed to know nothing more than the fact that she called.
The fact that someone attempted to harm us
this daughter who covered us all with her loving arms.
And now these arms are sprawled across New York City streets.
A smoke filled lung, a silt covered faced,
and a solitary tear poured out of her cheek.
Her singed garments carpets Pennsylvania Avenue and the Pentagon was under her feet.
As she began to talk, she began to cough up small particles of debris
and said, "I am America, and I'm calling on the land of the free."
So they answered.

All personal differences set to the side
because right now there was no time to decide which state building the Confederate flag should fly over,
and which trimester the embryo is considered alive,
or on our monetary units, and which God we should confide.
You see, someone attempted to choke the voice
of the one who gave us the right for choice,
and now she was callin.
And somebody had to answer.
Who was going to answer?

So they did.
Stern faces and chisled chins.
Devoted women and disciplined men,
who rose from the ashes like a pheonix
and said "don't worry, we'll stand in your defense."
They tightened up their bootlaces
and said goodbye to loved ones, family and friends.
They tried to bombard them with the "hold on", "wait-a-minute's", and "what-if's".
And "Daddy, where you goin?".
And, "Mommy, why you leavin?".
And they merely kissed them on their foreheads and said "Don't worry, I have my reasons.
You see, to this country I pledged my allegience
to defend it against all enemies foreign and domestic.
So as long as I'm breathin, I'll run though hell-fire,
meet the enemy on the front lines,
look him directly in his face,
stare directly in his eyes and scream,
"I AM AMERICA! WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED!
WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED!
I REFUSE TO BE AFRAID!
I'LL FIGHT YOU ANY COUNTRY, ANY CONTINENT, ANY TERRAIN.
I'LL FIGHT TO MY LAST BREATH!"

And if by chance death is my fate,
pin my medals upon my chest,
and throw Old Glory on my grave.
But, don't y'all cry for me.
You see, my Father's prepared a place.
I'll be a part of his Holy army standing a watch at the Pearly Gates.
Because freedom was never free.
POW's, and fallen soldiers
all paid the ultimate sacrafice
along side veterans who put themselves in harms way.
Risking their lives and limbs just to hold up democracy's weight,
but still standing on them broken appendages anytime the National Anthem was played.
You see, these were the brave warriors that gave me the right
to say that I'm Black. Or white.

Or

African American or Caucasian,
I'm Asian, excuse me.
I'm Vietnamese, Philipene, Korean, or Jamaican.
I'm Haitan, Hispanic

Y'all, Please be paitent.
I'm Mexican, Puerto Rican, Venezualean, Cuban,
Dominican, Panamanian, Democrat
I beg your pardon, you see I partied with the late, great Reagan.
I'm Republican, Independent, Christian, Catholic,
Methodist, Baptist, 7th Day Adventist, 5 Percenters,
Hindu, Sunii Muslim,

Brothers and Sisters We're just Americans.
So with that I say
"Thank You" to the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines,
for preserving my rights
to live and die for this life
and paying the ultimate price for me to be...FREE!

BadAssMarine.com

Finally

thought I would share something I wrote about the simple fact that this deployment is almost over...I hope you like it and please leave a comment....

Finally
2009

Awaiting in the crowd
I listen to the roar
It’s finally time
Our heroes are home
Watch them march in
Looking for that one face
So many in uniform
To many to find that one single face
Dismissed is yelled
Over the roaring crowd
All hell breaks loose
Like a dam breaking down
A flood of people rush pass
I’m all in tears
Holding hands of the little ones
We’re waiting to alleviate our fears
We watch people hug and kiss
We keep looking for ours
Standing still in the mist of ciaos
We watch as the sea of people part
We first hear the familiar footsteps
Then we look and see
There’s our hero
Our soldier
A husband
A dad
A head long rush into his arms
We’re all crying tears of joy
Our hero is finally home
Home safe and sound
Standing proudly with us
In the mist of other heroes
Who safely made it home

Written by Heather Floyd

windows

Rick and now try to leave our webcam's rolling most of our days and nights so we can keep an eye on each other. Even while we sleep. We are on opposite schedules. He works mostly while I sleep and vice versa. He put me to bed last night and I cuddled in bed and flipped open my Nintendo DS for awhile just to do something and unwind. I could see my window with his webcam in it from my bed. I would glance up and he was reading a book by his computer. I closed my DS and cuddled up with some blankets and it felt like almost we were cuddling. Virtually Cuddling. I could almost smell him, feel him, touch him as he read his book. I didn't share my thoughts with him till this morning. Its almost as if he was here in my bed. It didn't feel so lonely. What a blessing Technology has given us.

He left me two emails for me to read this morning.

Sleeping

As I peer upon your troubled soul, restless as you try to sleep, your troubled dreams and thoughts tangle in your head, as a whirlwind images and thoughts tumble hither on on within your minds eye keeping sleep at bay. know my love that you can sleep, dream, and rest in my arms and my thoughts, I will watch over your sleep and guard your dreams and keep the nightmares reigned in.. for I am yours as you are mine
sleep my angel
sleep mia bella
and rest your thoughts
and dream of us
together
forever

Watching You

I sit here, your blankie on my chair watching the drama that is the Stevens show, Tink wondering atop huddled body, licking and playing, wanting attention of her person, Skylar arms wrapped around her dolly a raggedy Annie as Tink plays with her, you cuddling a blanket dreaming of your far away lover, as he watches you .. sleep and dream
what a family. As James sleeps in the living room, seeking his own path, I love you baby
treasure and miss you ..always

A Poem I wrote Mackenzie in 2001

Mother
My child looks at my hands
Amazement on his face
Admiring their strength.
What he doesn't know
What I don't show
Is Mother has weaknesses too.
I tremble inside Of what future holds
Mother thinks, "I am no so strong"

Poem

I was looking for a Poem by Napoleon but I cam across this instead I had to change some of the words to translate it

Listen to the wind, my honey
listen how my beats are flying away
comi' into you in silennce
my thought are lost and cryin'.
Listen to the night,my love
there is no distance between us
everything is inside my hand
from the firs moment we met
till the end of time.
This is a no where to run
only your eyes and mine are here
only a feelin' inside us
that makes happiness in our hearts.
I finally know what I feel
Ijust find what I've lost
and ther's no hell to damm love
'cause my heart would breake
but I'll still fell in love.

Semi Finalist

Addicted
You know I have become addicted to having you here.
I have become addicted to feeling your touch.
I am addicted to your scent.
You know the way you put your spell on me to keep me.
I am sitting here wishing that you were the one addicted to
me.
Needing my scent like a primal animal goes for prey.
Can't you be addicted to my taste?
The way I long to taste you.
You give me just a taste of you to keep me addicted
Addicted to you.
Wishing you were addicted to me


Kristy Stevens
Was chosen as a semi finalist in poetry.com & will be published in "Immortal Words"

When I think of you

When I think of you finding words to say.
Searching for pictures that don't exist
and the essence of you in my life
I feel a sheet of sadness over me.
unexplained sadness...

Is it fate the insanity that won't let me
let this go.

All this disappears when you consume me.
Memories of you haunt my dreams.

So all I am left with are memories,
Me searching for pictures that don't exist
searching for the right thing to say.
and this unexplained sadness.

Next time perhaps we chase the moonlight.

KLM 4-30-06

Yes I am Okay!

Yes I am Okay, Yes I am fine.
No I am not okay with you being so far away from me.
No I am not okay with you missing our first Christmas together.
No I am not okay with you missing our first Anniversary us being apart.
Yes I am Okay, Yes I am FINE!
No I am not okay, looking at pictures of you holding me,
Tears flowing. Chills over come me without your presence.
No I am not okay with the fact that soon I know your touch will become a memory.
Yes I am Okay, Yes I am FINE!
No I am not okay with the fact that your smell will no longer exist.
No I am not okay that 400 days of our lives will pass before we can say its over.
No I am not okay that I have all these worries and questions.
Yes I am Okay, Yes I am FINE!
But maybe I will never be the same...

..............

Crushing skies of youth unknown
whispering similes to seeds unsown
hungry flesh-ed aching bones
pillows melt to thoughts her own

Un-imagined life unlived
aching hearts for thoughts misgived
drinking drops of dreams not lived
leaving givers gift un-gived

Exit signing moving scout
foolish man-ed round about
strings on heart tied tight and tout
nothing left so move him out
-md

If I say I didn't understand now I understand better

Whoa this is good!

IF YOU DON'T REMEMBER OR DIDN'T SEE IT THE FIRST TIME AROUND THE VIDEO IS AT: http://youtube.com/watch?v=vBflQLa75C8



THE WORDS FOR THE WORD POETRY IS AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS MARINE'S STORY...

Mystery Marine Poet Revealed
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,293615,00.html

The mystery Marine who touched the hearts of hundreds of thousands with his YouTube patriotic poem has come forward.

He is 30-year-old Marine Staff Sgt. Lawrence E. Dean II, stationed at the Cherry Point base in North Carolina. The Conway, S.C., native writes and performs rap-style poetry using the stage name "Life." And he is known all over North Carolina, where he is an inspiration to countless friends and strangers alike.

When the YouTube video of Dean reciting the poem he wrote about defending America's freedom garnered close to 400,000 views in just two days earlier this week, he decided to reveal his identity and speak to FOXNews.com.

"It almost leaves you speechless," he said on Wednesday of the reaction to his poetry. "Just to see it affected that many people — if it made that many people think, it was worth every bit of that three minutes. It wasn't about me solely. It pretty much said what we live. It's touching people the way I intended it to."

Dean, who works on aviation electronics for the Marines, has never served in Afghanistan or Iraq, though he said he'd go "this second" if asked. But the poem he wrote — which begins, "And she called …" — isn’t about the experience of fighting a war. It's about what the armed forces do.

"It's about the military service and the reason we do things," he explained. "We just defend the country, no questions asked. As a family, we do it. The poem was just utmost admiration and respect for the individuals that are there. ... They've answered the country's call."

He was compelled to write the poem about two-and-a-half years ago, he said, when his grandmother asked him one day what would make him go to war.

"The answer I can give is just, 'Because she called,'" said Dean, referring to America. "That was the best answer I could give that day."

But he was also deeply affected by a visit to Ground Zero, where the Twin Towers once stood in lower Manhattan and where all that's left is a vast, gaping pit. In his poem, he refers to "911 distress signal" the United States sent from the World Trade Center site on Sept. 11, 2001.

"TV doesn't do it any justice," he said. "It came about from being there and seeing the magnitude. It wasn't your front yard or your school or where your parents came from. When you see Ground Zero, you realize these are actual people. This could have been your neighborhood."

The Marine Corps, where Dean has built his career for the past 12 years, has been amazed at the response to the poetry reading of one of their own.

"All the Marines I know who have seen the video have been very impressed by it," said Mike Barton, the deputy director of Cherry Point's joint public affairs office. "We're waiting to see what happens next."

The video that ultimately wound up on YouTube was shot spontaneously about a year ago, when a young Marine whose room Dean was inspecting asked him to recite his poem on camera so that he could send it to his family to explain why he was going off to war.

Dean never intended for it to be posted on the Internet — and isn't sure who first put the clip up last year (the user's screen name is studman20673), though he guesses it was the young Marine who filmed him. He didn't even know the video had been on YouTube until he read about it on FOXNews.com.

The clip was picked up by Birmingham, Ala., resident Matthew Denton, who put it on his own YouTube page. Denton was so inspired by Dean's poem that he did what he could to track him down — with no luck, until Tuesday, when the two finally had the chance to speak on the phone.

Poetry and music have been Dean's passions for years.

"That's what I do when I'm not at work," he said.

And many have been moved to tears by the words Dean wrote that day his grandmother challenged him to explain why he serves his country.

"She called," Dean says in the videotaped poem as he stands before a U.S. Marine Corps crest hanging on the barracks wall. "From the bowels of Ground Zero/she sent this 911 distress signal/because she was in desperate need of a hero/and didn’t have time to decipher what to call 'em/so she called 'em all her children/and said, 'I am America, and I’m calling on the land of the free.'/So they answered ... /You see, someone attempted to choke the voice/of the one who gave us the right for choice/and now she was callin'./And somebody had to answer./Who was going to answer?/So they did."

But it's not only through his writing that Dean — who has an 8-year-old daughter — manages to make an impact on people. It's in his everyday life, according to those who know him.

"Everybody loves him," said one of his close friends in the Marines, who asked not to be identified. "He has got to be the most motivated and inspirational person I have ever met in my life. He speaks from the heart."

As for the response to his poem, well, Dean is uncharacteristically at a loss for words to describe it.

"How do you explain the unexplainable?" he said. "It's a blessing. A lot of people that have to answer that call appreciate it. That's bigger than me."

BAD ASS MARINE words and lyrics
http://www.badassmarine.com/free.php

She called...

Blacks, Whites...wait
African Americans and Caucasians, Asians, excuse me.
Vietnamese, Philipenes, Koreans and Jamaicans or
Haitans, waitin' Hispanics y'all.

Please be paitent
Mexican, Puerto Ricans, Venezualean, Cuban, Dominican, Panamanian Democrats
I beg your pardon, you partied with the late, great Reagan?
Republican, Independent, Christian, Catholic,
Methodist, Baptist, 7th Day Adventist, 5 Percenters,
Hindu, Sunii Muslim, Brothers and Sisters who never seen the New York city
skyline when the twin towers still existed.
But still She called.

From the bowels of Ground Zero she sent this 911 distress signal.
Because She was in desperate need of a hero,
and didn't have time to decipher what to call 'em,
so she called 'em all Her children.
The children of the stars and bars who needed to know nothing more than the fact that she called.
The fact that someone attempted to harm us
this daughter who covered us all with her loving arms.
And now these arms are sprawled across New York City streets.
A smoke filled lung, a silt covered faced,
and a solitary tear poured out of her cheek.
Her singed garments carpets Pennsylvania Avenue and the Pentagon was under her feet.
As she began to talk, she began to cough up small particles of debris
and said, "I am America, and I'm calling on the land of the free."
So they answered.

All personal differences set to the side
because right now there was no time to decide which state building the Confederate flag should fly over,
and which trimester the embryo is considered alive,
or on our monetary units, and which God we should confide.
You see, someone attempted to choke the voice
of the one who gave us the right for choice,
and now she was callin.
And somebody had to answer.
Who was going to answer?

So they did.
Stern faces and chisled chins.
Devoted women and disciplined men,
who rose from the ashes like a pheonix
and said "don't worry, we'll stand in your defense."
They tightened up their bootlaces
and said goodbye to loved ones, family and friends.
They tried to bombard them with the "hold on", "wait-a-minute's", and "what-if's".
And "Daddy, where you goin?".
And, "Mommy, why you leavin?".
And they merely kissed them on their foreheads and said "Don't worry, I have my reasons.
You see, to this country I pledged my allegience
to defend it against all enemies foreign and domestic.
So as long as I'm breathin, I'll run though hell-fire,
meet the enemy on the front lines,
look him directly in his face,
stare directly in his eyes and scream,
"I AM AMERICA! WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED!
WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED!
I REFUSE TO BE AFRAID!
I'LL FIGHT YOU ANY COUNTRY, ANY CONTINENT, ANY TERRAIN.
I'LL FIGHT TO MY LAST BREATH!"

And if by chance death is my fate,
pin my medals upon my chest,
and throw Old Glory on my grave.
But, don't y'all cry for me.
You see, my Father's prepared a place.
I'll be a part of his Holy army standing a watch at the Pearly Gates.
Because freedom was never free.
POW's, and fallen soldiers
all paid the ultimate sacrifice
along side veterans who put themselves in harms way.
Risking their lives and limbs just to hold up democracy's weight,
but still standing on them broken appendages anytime the National Anthem was played.
You see, these were the brave warriors that gave me the right
to say that I'm Black. Or white.

Or

African American or Caucasian,
I'm Asian, excuse me.
I'm Vietnamese, Philipene, Korean, or Jamaican.
I'm Haitan, Hispanic

Y'all, Please be paitent.
I'm Mexican, Puerto Rican, Venezualean, Cuban,
Dominican, Panamanian, Democrat
I beg your pardon, you see I partied with the late, great Reagan.
I'm Republican, Independent, Christian, Catholic,
Methodist, Baptist, 7th Day Adventist, 5 Percenters,
Hindu, Sunii Muslim,

Brothers and Sisters We're just Americans.
So with that I say
"Thank You" to the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines,
for preserving my rights
to live and die for this life
and paying the ultimate price for me to be...FREE!