Well, I finally made my way back and here I am writing this from the comfort of my Drexel Hill home while in the midst of preparing - quickly - for Halloween festivities. Adjusting to the wonders of the American lifestyle from the myriad colors of fall trees to a packed grocery store on a Saturday morning to the clouds and rain, I am grateful to be here. It was amazing enough just to have the plane cross the Canadian border into Maine to know I was home. Several passengers applauded when the plane landed in Washington. Still, I can't help but think of those courageous men and women in lands so far away, risking their lives, so that we can do everything we do here from drive in packed traffic to watch a movie to go trick-or-treating. My hope is we all learn from their dedicated example. I know I have. And, I hope I never forget. God bless you, 1-150th. I look forward to your speedy return.

So, now as I make my way home, I am pulled in opposing directions. The largest pull, of course, is that toward my family and having the opportunity to see and be with them again. Just the thought of them makes my heart fill with joy and I can only imagine it will be on the verge of bursting when I get to hold my children in my arms again. Yet, the excitement is hampered by a twinge of melancholy as I think about all the people I left behind in the 1-150th Assault Helicopter Division and all the wonderful people I've met along the way. I realize they are committed to making this world a better place and they are dedicated to their work, but there is a part of me that wishes I could have tucked them in my bag so we could have all gone home together. Indeed, I am certain there is a part of my heart that will stay forever in that Iraqi desert. But, my hope is that the friendships that were made for however long will leave an indelible mark on all of our souls that for a little bit, in my case anyway, we tried to make a difference in whatever way we knew how and we touched each other's hearts in the process. Thank you, 1-150th Assaut Helicopter Division. Godspeed and may you return home quickly and safely.

As I meet people here, many have asked me what have I learned by being here.

It's a simple question but the answers are huge and it makes me pause just to think about how this experience has changed me.To say this is such a different world than the one back in the United States is accurate but underrated.

Imagine living life with a direct threat to your life hanging over head every second of every day.You learn to appreciate the small stuff. A person's smile. A simple hello. An e-mail from a friend, the opportunity to talk to your spouse. And, yes, even a bootstrap-turned-into-belt.

You realize just how much we have at home. Running water, a warm, comfy bed, green trees (or maybe not so green now), trash disposal (the Iraqis burn their trash because they don't have landfills), food and wonderful family members who return our hugs and kisses.I have learned to be much more grateful for these and for how special life really is.

But, it's also been a wakeup call for me, too.These troops put their lives on the line every day to support their own personal principles. How many of us can say we are willing to risk everything we know for something we believe? How many of us are willing to push past our own comfort to force ourselves to grow so that we can help other people?

It's something I will never forget and I will embrace as a life lesson. I will continue to find ways to push myself so that I can reach my fullest potential while trying to make this world a little better at the same time.

Alright, so the buckles on my belt broke off and I wanted to fix it so my husband suggested I get some string. Luckily for me, bootstraps are readily available on an Army base so I can now say I'm pulling myself (or at least my pants) up by the bootstraps! And, it does feel pretty good, by the way!

In preparing for this trip, I bought a little Berlitz book on how to speak Arabic, so I could get a few key words down. Hello. Thank you. Excuse me. Do you speak English?
Well after visiting state Rep. Nick Miccarelli, R-162, of Ridley, he's been doing some studying of his own. Besides being on-call 12-hours a night as a helicopter door gunner, he's got the picture of every state representative - Democratic and Republican - hanging in his room to study the face with the name so he recognizes everybody upon his return.

Here's a tip for all those women considering a career in aviation, especially the night-flying Blackhawk-type variety.
If you have medium or long hair, you'll want to make a bun or ponytail as far to the bottom of your neck as possible.
For my first night trip, I pulled my hair up on top of my head and after I put the helmet and night goggles on, I started to get a headache.
Trip Two, I lowered the bun and voila!, a happy head.
And, here's a little funny thing. I knew coming here I wouldn't have access to any hair dryers. But, I thought, hey, I still bring my hair products and a comb and do the best I can. Well, the desert air really does some strange things to my hair. I wash it when I can and by the end of the day, it's all greasy. The only thing I can really do with it is pull it back into a bun. But, hey, what's the alternative?!
So, when you go to dry, curl, shape or style your hair today, just think of all those courageous women serving in the military out there, who give up the luxury to fix their hair the way they like to try to make our lives better.

Thanks to Susie Danielson, a pilot from Denver, Colo. who's serving with the 1-150th Assault Helicopter Division, I was able to visit The Oasis again today. And, we scored! The oven was cooking and the bread was hot! Iraqi bread is really good. It's a flatbread that's kind of like foccaccia in the shape of a giant pita that you pull apart to eat. It's pretty delicious and the smell is even more intoxicating. How could you refuse all them carbs anywhere on the planet?