Dear God,

As you know, there is nothing “normal” about us.  We don’t have a typical army job where we are stationed somewhere and then move every few years.  We are an army reserve family, the red headed stepchild of the army.  And for the past four years we have moved where the jobs (missions) are located.  We don’t live on base and make a bunch of friends.  We tend to be a little more isolated.  So I can’t compare myself fully to my army-wife counterparts.  The only thing I share with them is that my husband also serves and has been deployed several times.  I understand their plight, their worries, their exhaustion… but little else.  I have never technically PCS’d.  I’ve packed and hired movers.  I’ve been the CEO of this household.

Remember when the economy went into the crapper 5 years ago, and Craig worked for one of the largest banking firms in the country?  Remember how we found ourselves looking at alternatives to making a living for our family?  As you know, I wrote about all of this in excruciating detail back then, which of course coincided with my postpartum depression after Elsa’s birth–NOT a shining moment for me personally.  Well, he moved to GA, and one year later, my daughter and I moved to be with him… with the prospect of more positions like these in our future.  Cut to the future.  Three years later, and two moves, we find ourselves in AL.  And other than the tornados, I actually like it here. On a side note, thank you for sparing our home during last year’s epic storms.  If you recall, I huddled in the closet with both children clutched to my breast, closed my eyes and spoke your name many times.  I digress, the weather is great, the people are friendly and I finally know my way around the city.  I’ve even become used to the south and all of its intricacies/oddities.  You know what I’m talking about there, don’t you?  I mean, really with all the fried food and weird racial tension?  Anyhow, now that I’ve become somewhat comfortable, it is time yet again to look where we are headed.  At this point I have no idea where this is.  This has become difficult for us to say the least.

Craig’s options are limited. One:  deployment… ugh.  That sounds terrible for so many reasons, and you know how I get when I’m alone for too long… we won’t go into that here.  Two:  find a job here. That’s easier said than done.  Three:  Go back to VT.  No way in hell. It’s true.  It is beautiful there, but you and I both know how I like it hot… and it’s way too cold there, and I’m not up for moving across the country AGAIN unless it’s for good.  Last, but certainly not least… Four:  Winning the HGTV Dream Home.  Now I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but I feel fairly certain that I could win this.  1 in 4 billion are really good odds to me at this point, and let’s face it, this letter to you would be moot.

Hence this note to you… and really to anyone who can identify in ANY way, shape, or form with our situation.  I am praying for a decent outcome… nothing perfect.  I don’t expect that. I don’t expect a lot of things at this point… but if you could give me a shout when you’re not busy taking care of the sick and wounded, I’d appreciate it.

Your humble servant,

Nissa