This time...it's not on me.

When talking about the hardships of military life it is inevitable that someone will at some point say, "Well, you did sign up for this." or my other favorite, "You knew what you were getting into."

For me, yes the first 13 years of Hubster's military career, I did "sign up for it." We talked about re-enlisting each time it came up as an option and together made the decision to continue on the path  towards retirement.

However, after 13 years of constant separation, several surgeries on a young man's broken down body, hearing aids at 27 years old, and countless times of being passed over for opportunities to advance his career, I had had enough. So, he claimed, had he.  No longer was it worth seeing my hubs come home mentally, physically, and emotionally beaten down.

So when the conversation of staying in or getting out came 'round I was all for hanging up the uniform. At the time, so was he. It was a scary thought, but it was a bigger relief.  I began to breathe again, knowing I wouldn't ever have to miss him for months on end or sleep alone night after night after night. I wouldn't have to worry about my daughter being my sole responsibility. FINALLY we were going to get to be a "normal" family. Plans were made to relocate back to Tennessee and settle down together. The end was in sight, it was just a few months away.

Ha!

As always, and I should have known better, the army had other plans. They last minute promoted Hubster not only taking him across country for our daughter's entire summer break from school, but ensuring his indefinite re-enlistment and within 12 weeks he was on yet another plane headed for another foreign land to spend ANOTHER year away from us. Awesome.

Now up to this point I had done my very best to play the role of supportive wife. I strive to be the one "holding down the fort" here stateside until his return.  After all, up to this point, I had "signed up for this" and "knew what I was getting into."  Not the case now.

Now the dream of this decade plus long nightmare being over had been dangled in front of me then without, what seemed like, much consideration it was ripped away.  Hum...no wonder I feel so very angry, resentful, and bitter.

I still love Hubs very much. He is still a good man who works his ass off for this family. Leaving him would make no more sense than a wife divorcing her husband for being a postman or school teacher or electrician.  This is his job. Besides, I don't WANT to leave him, I want to BE with him!  So yes, I am angry, and I do make snide comments about him still being in. I don't do it to hurt feelings, but damn it, I am dealing with this all the best I know how. That end to it all that was in sight has now been moved at least another 6 years down the road. That's six years of more time apart and more holidays alone, and more raising a child who is also so angry and doesn't even understand why. Taking the brunt of her frustrations is really NOT the highlight of any day.

Maybe, and I hope, I will come to terms with all of this and find a way to just accept my lot in life as it is. Today though, I wouldn't count on it.

I Wish I May....I Wish I Might

I asked Mini Me if she could have any 3 wishes what would she wish for. I fully expected to hear things like a pool, a kitten, and ice cream everyday. While I am sure those are all things she would not scoff at, her answers really took me by surprise. Wish 1. To live at the beach in Washington so we could see the waves, whales, and boats everyday. Wish 2. That Daddy lived with us and not always somewhere far away. Wish 3. To always be able to go to school and learn new things because some girls in the world are not allowed to learn at a school. Now the purpose of me asking her this question was to get ideas for her upcoming birthday. While her reply didn't help me any in that department, it sure made me realize that her heart holds room for a lot more than the things you get when you blow out the candles each year.

Today, I F*cking Hate the Army Life

I'm going to lay this out there and then put it in a imaginary balloon and let it float away from me so as to no longer have it weighing on my heart. I hate the army life.  I love Hubster, I am uber proud of him and what he does, and yes I have been very blessed in many ways thanks to this life.  However, today, in this moment, I hate the army life.

In the last 14 years I have seen families torn apart by death, war, dysfunction, mental instabilities, separation, abandonment, and the list goes on. None of us spouses live near family for consistent support and guidance so we find it in each other. We find ways to make it work even when we move thousands of miles away from each other. We pick up the phone to listen to tears and frustrations from a friend we have not seen in years or spoke to in months.

We raise our children on our own. Don't you dare compare us to single parents. We are NOT single, we are NOT able to date and find companionship in another adult. Our companion, our other half, is just not available for those things. The vows are still there and the rings are still worn. 

The time spent apart is grueling on a relationship to say the very least. Apart for months and months and MONTHS at a time. No one outside the military life can even fathom what that is like. That is why we rely on our military friends more than our own families sometimes.  They can relate.  We can be angry in front of them about our situation. They don't say things like, "It could be worse" or "You are so strong."  I know in my heart those things are said out of love, but on the inside, it just feels patronizing.  The only response my head has to those things are "Fuck you. You don't know a thing about my strength or how much worse it could be."

I am tired, I am worn out, and I am pissed every time I see a messed up soldier leave the pieces of a broken family in his wake after returning from war.  There is no comparison for the damage done to these men being deployed time after time. Our children will be in therapy for years, and most of us are medicated into a state of synthetic euphoria just to deal with the stress of it all. It's sickening, it's for real, and it is NOT the life I would wish on anyone.

For those of you who share this with me, I have a love for you like none other. I am every day thankful to God for your friendship. When I look back at the major moments of my adult life and the people who were there for me, it will be your faces I see. It will be your voices ringing in my memory. You are the blessings I have received, and I love you, even though I know you also will leave someday and I will have to say goodbye to you too.

So when you see a military spouse, don't bring up deployments, or the war, or ask how their child is handling their father being gone... again.  If you do, odds are we will smile, provide a neutral response, and say all is well. For if we have learned nothing else from our PTSD afflicted husbands, we've at least learned how to put on the brave face and just keep marching on.

Taking the night off.

I desperately wanted to post tonight. There's so much running though my mind right now that I want to say.  However, my thoughts are completely unorganized and together as I process them I just feel sick to my stomach. So I'm taking the night off and will post tomorrow when I have had a chance to get it together. Peace!

Lessons I've learned from my big brother...Happy 40th Birthday, Tito!!!

Christ is behind it all!

Family is important. Even the little turd who photo bombs a nice family moment at the beach. ;)

It's good to have someone you admire and look up to.

Grandpa usually knows what he's talking about.

Bud Light is the beer to drink.

Kitchen safety is priority.

Loud music is awesome!

Never stop being young at heart.

Hard work and effort are key to finding your calling.

Last but not least...No matter how many times your dog sh*ts in the house, you love him anyway.

The Beynon Migratorius

A writing exercise I did a few months ago required me to create myself as a bird. Describe it, name it, etc. I thought today I would share the outcome of that exercise:

The Beynon Migratorius

This rare species of flightless bird is one that migrates on foot rather than by flight, just because it is NOT the easier of the two options. This green hued bird is known for its beautiful, well kept nest. In fact, it has been known to maintain more than one nest at a time, each thousands of miles away from the other.

This resilient bird survives on a steady diet of the challenges of life. She chokes down loneliness, frustration and exhaustion. She dines on diversions, detours, and dumb protocols. Truly one of the most well fed creatures of all time.

This bird is smart and her best line of defense against predators is her wit, determination, adaptability and resourcefulness. She's not the most beautiful bird, and in fact, tends to appear frazzled most of the time. However she is damn near impossible to kill. No one has succeeded yet anyway.

My Little Brainiac

So when Mini Me was only about 5 1/2 she announced she wanted to be a doctor. I figured, like most kids, this would change a hundred times between then and when she actually had to choose a career. Hell, I figured it would change a hundred times over the following 6 months. However, then at about 6 years old she asked me what a heart doctor was called. I told her a cardiologist. She replied, "That's the kind of doctor I want to be mom, a cardiologist."

I guess I should not be too surprised considering that at the young age of 3, while driving down the road one day, she asked me how to spell "catalyst." A few weeks ago she asked me for an empty soda bottle and a pompom so she could make an air cannon. When I asked her how she knew what an air cannon is she very plainly replied, "I just do. It's physics."

Today she comes home from school and she tells me they read about Alexander Graham Bell.  She wanted to "google" him and learn more. While doing her research she read that his mother had been deaf. She said to me, "Why did he make a phone to call people if his mom can't hear?" I told her that I was sure the intent was to talk to people other than his mom. She snaps back with, "Well I hope he still wrote her letters!"  I just love that not only is she curious to learn facts, but forms conclusions and opinions on what new knowledge she gains.

I'd Choose Grief

William Faulkner said, "Given a choice between grief and nothing, I'd choose grief."

Yesterday my great aunt left this life and joined the countless others who have passed before her.  This has sparked the thoughts of life after death, not only for those who have passed, but for those of us who are left here.

I remember when Hubster's Granny passed away. We were all prepared, we knew she was at rest and we knew she was at peace. It didn't lessen the pain of losing her any though.  Every family event since then there always seems to be something missing. Granny is not there. It's still fun and we still have laughter, smiles, jokes, and love. However, there's always that feeling that you might just look over your shoulder and see her there.

When my grandfather died almost 4 years ago it was not so painful for me to lose him as it was to watch my father lose his dad. They were so close, two peas in a humorous pod, and my own father had endured watching the man who raised him with such love and guidance wither away mentally until he no longer knew who any of us were.  His services were simple, small, and he was laid to rest in our family cemetery out in the country. It was just as he would have wanted.

The loss of our best friend in 2010 though was one I was hit very hard by. He was just 32 and was killed in Afghanistan by a sniper. It was sudden, unexpected, and the nightmare every army family fears will come true.  I entered a state of denial, shock, anger, and lived months with that feeling of a gaping hole in my chest that leaves you unable to ever fully catch your breath. I watched my husband, one of the strongest men I know, escort is best friend home to his mother and be laid to rest. It tore him apart, and it damaged us all. It is still hard to watch a video of him and hear his voice. Unlike my great aunt, my grandfather and Hub's Granny...he was so young. Not even old enough to really have lived life to the fullest yet.

So back to William's quote, the choice of feeling nothing or feeling grief. That's a hard call. I supposed if you felt nothing it is because the loss meant nothing. The stronger the grief, the more it hurts, the more they mattered to you. So I suppose, I too, would choose grief. Just as I hope that one day someone grieves for me. After all, no one wants to leave this world and have meant nothing to anyone.

Poor Pluto

You say goodbye, and I say hello...

Part of the Army life that never fails to continuously get to me is the revolving door of friends that it provides. Through friends you meet new people, then your friends move away and the people you met through them become your new current circle. Eventually they too will move away and once again the circle evolves. It forms a kind of 6 degrees of separation existence, although I have found usually 3 degrees are all you need to connect yourself to anyone else in the army life. It almost makes me think of the old Spirograph I had as a kid; each circle is its own but each is interwoven with the others.

In 1999 we met a couple that in 2001 moved away. Little did we know then, that 14 years later we would still be close friends with this couple, twice more share living in the same town, and they would be the chosen Godparents of our mini me! As they again prepare to move this fall, for the final time, it is hard to say goodbye knowing I will not see them weekly and mini me will lose a regular interaction with their 2 boys.  However, I am in no way worried that our friendship will suffer from the distance between us.

Like family, who has never been closer than 600 miles away, the friends you make in this military life are the family you didn't know you were missing.  Some of these bonds are stronger than others, and there are always going to be those select few you pray get orders out of here because they are a drain on you. For the most part though, I know I can travel pretty much anywhere in this nation and have at least one contact in any given state I am in. 

Today we gather again to throw some burgers on the grill, drink a beer, watch the kids run and play, and share stories as we say farewell to friends leaving next week. Those who have already been where they are headed will share tips and advice. After all, you never send one of your army sisters off into the world without some insider information! ;)  It's sad to see them go, but you just never know when one day you may again be stationed in the same location.  What a blessed life!

The Image We See

While visiting with the hubster today we were talking about the recent video circulating where women go in and describe themselves to a sketch artist behind a screen and he draws them. Then someone else comes in a describes the same woman, and again, the artist creates an image. Then both images are revealed to each woman. In this it showed that their self description was much more critical and "ugly" than the way someone else saw them. The end message being that we are more beautiful than we think. Hubster made the comment that he wished that even for just 5 minutes that us women could see ourselves through our mate's eyes. He doesn't understand why we are so hard on ourselves when it comes to weight, wrinkles, and "imperfections."

For me it started after I got married. As a young woman I was very athletic, in great physical shape, got lots of attention (although not always the best kind) and had a lot of self confidence. Then I married, stayed home for a year, moved somewhere where I did not know anyone, and gained about 25-30 lbs. I still remember the 1st time I bought a pair of size 10 jeans. I was so devastated that I was in "double digits!" HA!!! I'd pay good damn money to be back in those size 10 jeans today! With age, and time, and a changing life style I have fluctuated between 132 and 218. Up and down and up and down again. I always hated myself when I would gain, like most women, but never payed attention to what helped me when I lost. I began to lose that confidence and feel like I was ugly and fat and not worth even trying to look pretty anymore. Not very healthy thoughts for someone not even in her 30s yet!

As I approached 30 I began to panic. Hubster even claims I had a full blown mid-life crisis. What I had failed to realize is that through all of this self loathing, my husband's view of me had not changed at all! He still thought I was hot, he still loved being intimate with me, and in his eyes I was still that 121 lb 18 year old girl that walked down the aisle all those years ago. It took that "mid-life crisis" to make me realize that I am beautiful. I am 30 years of beautiful and I am going to be 40 years of beautiful too! If I am as blessed as my grandmother, I will get to live to be 85 years of beautiful.

When I first saw this quote I felt a pull to begin sharing my day to day again, however, I instantly doubted my writing abilities or that anyone would want to read what I have to write anyway. I'm glad that God sent two little birdies to tell me otherwise. It feels good to hear the constant click of the keys under my fast moving fingers as the coffee kicks in and the sun shines through the window. There's a real peace I get from telling my story, and if it changes the world, great! If not a single person ever reads it, that's OK too.

Getting up to speed...

So let's catch up a little bit. If you go back to the beginning you will see all of the past posts have been about my daughter and her diagnosis of ASD. That is how this blog originated. However, after a break, and a lot of living, I have opted to take this in a different direction.  I've revamped , renamed, and relaunched.

We are currently residents of Tennessee, and while not raised here, this feels most like home for us. Hubster is in his 14th year of active duty army and Mini Me is a big time 1st grader!

I am spending my time between a close group of friends, coffee and lunch dates, an unreal addiction to Hobby Lobby, selling Uppercase Living and Scentsy, and caring for the day to day runnings of our home.

I love to write, journal, talk, and create. I wrote a self description recently and will share that in the future. Right now I am just trying to get my sea legs again.

Shel, oh how you inspire me!

The Re-introduction

I'm beginning an overhaul of this blog in hopes to regain some of my motivation, my creative outlet, my voice, and maybe even spend a bit of time on my soapbox. I appreciate the support of my friends over the years and it is with their encouragement that I am re-launching this. So let's get started...

Mini Me; a beautiful spirit who has been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder.  I am her voice, her caregiver, her shuttle between services and therapies...her "mom mom".  This is her story too.  Here I will share the journey, the struggles and the triumphs, and the tough road ahead.

Hubster; a hard working, God loving, man who gives all of his time to providing for our small family while simultaneously serving his country. I am his love, his wife, his household commander, his financial adviser, his partner in crime, and (once upon a time) his high school sweetheart.

Me; I'm like the rice in a roll of sushi, the glue that holds it all together, the engine that runs this machine, the ringmaster of our circus!  Somehow, I have to find a way to support my Army career hubster, single-handedly raise and advocate for my autistic child, and NOT lose all of my marbles or who I am in the meantime.

I hope you don't have a weak stomach or loose change in your pockets, because this life is a roller coaster ride!  Hold on tight, here we go!