Beach Analogy

I was laying there today, floating along several yards off the shores of Clearwater Beach, looking at my toes as they bobbed above water, and two thoughts flew into my head. First off, how much I wish I'd painted my toes some pretty, bright color. Maybe a red. (I seem to be getting more girly in my old age. I feel a desperate need for bottles and bottles of pretty nail polish, and I recently bought my very first tube of stunning red lipstick!) Then I could take an awesome picture of them as they bobbed in and out of the waves. (If I'd had my camera out there, which I wouldn't have.) Second, how my floating there in the water lazily waiting for the waves to deposit me back on the shore made up a pretty good analogy for how I'd been feeling this week. (I was also hoping that a shark wasn't going to swim up and eat me, but I always hope that when I'm at the beach. I've seen Jaws too many times.)

We found out some pretty big news this week. It's huge. It's exciting, and it's something we've been praying for and wanting for a long time. So, when we found out, my first reaction was an almost overwhelming joy. Michael and I hugged, laughed, cried, and gave silent cheers (not wanting to wake up the littles, who were sleeping just feet away), both so happy that our prayers had been answered.

And then it hit me. Everything is going to change. And then I got scared. 

We're a military family. Out life is change. However, we've been at the same base now for five and a half years. It's not my favorite place, but I think it could be if only we were closer to family. I grew up with family close. I enjoyed the structure, the stability, the bonds I have with all members of my family. It's been a big worry for me that the boys won't have that. that they won't have a place they can come back to and feel like they are home, because the life of military families is a life of moving around and change. Except we've been at our base for five and a half years, with no sign of orders on the horizon. We have made an established, comfortable home in Idaho, even if it's not my favorite place. It is still my sons's home. And if it's home to him, that's important to me.

And this news means we'll be moving "soon". To a new place, with new people, and new experiences. While that is exciting to an extent, it is also scary. And as I thought about telling my oldest that we were going to have to leave my stomach began to tie its self into knots. Idaho is his home! It's his safe place. It's what he knows, and that is going to be taken away from him. No matter how much we wanted orders and wanted this change, it makes me sad to know that he is going to be sad, worried, and scared. No mother wants that for her babies, and I can't stop it. 

To make it worse for the planner in me, we don't know when or where we will be moving yet. (Which explains the quotations around the word soon from the paragraph above) In fact, it could be many, many months before we do know. It could be more than a year before this happens, or it could be six months from now. We have no idea. I am not the type of person who enjoys feeling out of control, but there you have it. There isn't a thing I can do about it. Or the fact that, as much as we don't like Idaho, we are very aware that we could end up somewhere far worse. Or even farther away from family. And that would be so sad. 

I'm also not the type of person who makes new friends without effort, and I hate leaving old ones. I try to make friends, but I am shy, and awkward, and a little backwards, and it takes me time. I cherish the people in my life who have managed to scratch through all that oddness on the surface and see who I really am inside, and I am going to hate leaving those people behind. It's not as bad as it could have been  in a different age. And age before Facebook and Skype and unlimited long distance, but it isn't the same as showing up on a friend's doorstep loaded up with babies, toys, food, and the promise of fun. It's not the same as being so comfortable in another person's house that you kick off your shoes, roll up your sleeves, and help with dinner and mopping and children as if it were your own home.

It's change, and change is scary. It is exciting, and new, and something we wanted, but it's also a little bit scary to know that your life isn't ever going to be quite the same again.   

So, back to me bobbing around on the waves at Clearwater staring at my toes and having deep thoughts about how this paralleled my life. :) There I was, splayed out in the water like a little girl and allowing the waves to bounce me around wherever they wished as I alternated looking up at the sunset streaked sky and my dismally unpainted toes, and I realized that I didn't really know where the current was taking me. (Though I would hopefully land somewhere close to where we had deposited our bags and towels before everyone tore off at breakneck speed for the joys of the waves.) I didn't know when I was going to get there, or what the stretch of beach I landed on would be like. I didn't know who the poor tourists would be wherever I happened to make shore or what they were going to think of the crazy almost thirty year old woman who washed up at their feet. Heck, I didn't know that a shark wasn't going to swim up and bite me in the rear end as I sat their pondering. (I sincerely hoped that they would not.)

What I did know was that, wherever I happened to be when I finally climbed out of the salty water, my family would be there waiting for me. They would smile and laugh and wrap me in their arms and it would feel like home. The ground would be solid under my feet, and if I did happen to stumble in the sand, my husband would be there to steady me. There would be pretty shells and not-so-pretty seaweed, and we would oooh and ahhh over the one while refusing to dwell on the other. I would photograph everything to chronicle yet another new adventure, and life will be good.

And it will be after all these big changes come too. Because we have each other.

And because it wouldn't feel right to have a post with absolutely no pictures, here they are. My plain, boring, unpainted toes. I think they need a remodel. However, I do have brand new, bright red, polka dot flip flops, and that is pretty fun! New can be awesome!

Homecomings

Well, here we are again. The end of another deployment. This has been the hardest of our three, hands down. I've been ready for it to be over since before it started, and I am thrilled that it is finally time for me to be writing this! I am not entirely sure why this one was harder. Everyone keeps saying that it is because I have two little ones now, but I am 100% sure that isn't it. The boys kept me sane this deployment. I think part of it was having two so very close together! Two deployments in an 18 month period is no joke. Part of it was also probably knowing that I could have very easily been home, but stayed because I was too worried about what people would say. My mistake. Won't make that again, you can be sure. 

I'm not going to dwell on it though. Because it is over and my baby is coming home!!!

On the outside looking in, homecomings would seem like they are nothing but joyous occasions. Please don't get me wrong, they are. Absolutely. But I have talked to enough wives to know that I am not alone in having a certain amount of anxiety at the thought of the approaching reunion. I never would have believed it before experiencing it myself. After all, military homecomings are the things of an amazing TV special. Banners and cheering and relief and tears...and they really are all those things too! More emotion than I can sum up in simple words. I swear to you, I can actually feel my heart swell with pride when I watch that plane coming in for its landing. It starts beating a patriotic beat as I watch the plane taxi around and finally come to a stop, so close yet still so far away. It takes much longer than it ever should between the time that plane stops and the time the doors open, but in that time my heartbeat never comes back down to a normal patter and it reaches an unbelievable level of joy that erupts when the doors open and men and women in uniform start filing out to reunite with their loved ones. It doesn't seem possible that a person could actually live through those levels of excitement and suspense, but you somehow do, and then join everyone else as they search for their special people in that sea of smiling faces and excitement so thick you can actually taste it!

Sometimes you find them quite quickly, and sometimes it takes a little longer, but eventually your eyes will meet through a forest of camo and welcome home signs. And, for me at least, that is when the shyness kicks in. Yes, I have known him for years, more than I wish to share here, because it makes me feel old, but we have also both grown and changed over the many months he was gone. At the core, we are those people who said goodbye many moons ago, but some things have changed, and getting to know those parts of my husband are what makes me shy.

Still, there is something electric about your eyes meeting for the first time. They hold yours for a fleeting moment (though so much passes between you in that moment that it would take several blogs, and probably books, to express it) before they look away, searching for the little beings they missed most in all that time they were away. What, you thought it was you they most wanted to see? No. They missed you, they want to hold you again, but there is an even more pressing issue on their minds. A body they long to hold more than even yours...and it's OK, because you would feel the same way if you had missed out on half of your child's life too.

If they have any fears about homecomings, it is for these moments. A fear that is deep and dark and shared by so many of our men and women in uniform when they arrive stateside once more...What if their children don't know them? What if they are scared? What if they don't want anything to do with them? So, they approach with caution, even though you can see the excitement and joy radiating off their faces as they take in every part of the children they left behind. They crouch down, sometimes several feet away, waiting to be approached by cautious little ones, even though you can see their longing to scoop up that little body and shower it with all the kisses they couldn't give in those months away. They talk and smile encouragement, sometimes with offerings of stuffed animals or toys picked up at some airport gift shop for way too much money, until their child comes up to them again and reaches out, and then the most amazing moment of homecomings gets to happen. Nothing, nothing at all can describe the reunion of child and parent. It is cautious and sweet and pure and filled with more joy than most moments can hold on their own. They fit into their parents arms, in that special spot meant just for them, and you can literally see months of tension, fear, stress, and war melt away into the sky as their parent folds around them in a perfect fit, often burying their face in their hair or neck to hide tears or to breath them in or both. It is pure beauty.

And then, finally, it is the spouses turn. And, as shy as I am, as strange as it is to feel those arms around me again, it is also safe and familiar and perfect. I can always smell a mixture of strange lands that I will never see, and the scent that is 100% unique to him. I love that. Is it odd to feel grown up arms again? To hold onto someone taller and stronger than me? Yes. Do I know that we have some adjustment ahead of us as we all redefine our rolls as a family? Of course...but for a moment none of that matters at all. Because he is home. 

Happy occasions? Joyous occasions? Oh, homecomings are so much more than that. But they are also hard and, for me, bittersweet.

It is hard to know that while I hold onto my husband, preparing myself for the next several weeks of getting to know one another under the same roof again, as hard as that might be sometimes, there is another husband or wife out there somewhere who would give everything they own for that chance. That there is an urn on their mantle or a folded flag in their holiday pictures where Daddy or Mommy should be. It's hard to accept that those men and women made that sacrifice for all of us back here in the States. Many of them made that sacrifice so that their brothers and sisters in uniform could go home in their stead. I don't know how to say thank you for something like that. And it is impossible to comprehend that my own husband might be asked to make that sacrifice one day. If any of us thought like that on a regular basis, I don't think we could get by.

This time, however, he is home safe. This time, God returned him to me whole. So I concentrate on that, and add it to the list of things I whisper my thanks for as I hold him that first time after he gets off the plane. He is home, and we are a family again.  

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for giving me the strength to get through this once again. Thank you for giving my my sons, without whom I could never get through a day. Thank you for delivering him home to my arms again. Keep us together, safe, and whole for as long as you can, please Lord. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Amen. 

A Pin A Week: Patriotic Wreath

I am excited about this one. I'm excited about all of them, of course, or I wouldn't do them, but I have long desired a wide collection of wreaths for my front door that I could change out depending on holiday and season...this is just the beginning. :0)

I can't take credit for the idea. I found it here on Pinterest. (Where else?) I think I might use a very similar idea for some other projects I hope to work on in the future though.

Kisses From Daddy: Deployment Countdown

Deployments suck. There is no way around it. They really suck when it is the third in just over two and a half years. They really, really suck when you have a just turned three year old who has only had Daddy back for 6 months before saying goodbye again. It's hard to help him understand the concept of Daddy coming home...but not for many months.  After all, how hard is it to wrap your mind around months at an age where hours seems like an eternity?

I felt like it was very important that we come up with some way to help Parker count down to Daddy coming home to us again. He really needed something for him to look at that he could actually see changing and bringing us closer to the homecoming we are all so anxiously waiting for. 

Enter the Daddy Kisses jar.

Flashback Friday

First off, I would like to say I am 100% unhappy with the look of my blog. I want something that screams me and mine. I really love blogging, and writing in general, and the fact that my blog doesn't reflect me is bringing me down more than it should. (It could be pregnancy hormones too. Who knows?) I am hoping to re-vamp it, or have it re-vamped, very soon. But for now, please don't judge me based on my horribly generic and cluttered blog.  Secondly, I am so happy to be back and doing Flashback Friday again! I've missed it! It's so much fun to read other people's flashbacks and to share my own. It gives me a chance to go back in time and remember things I might have forgotten. This week I had no idea where to flash back to. There is so much going on in our lives right now, so much that I am finding completely overwhelming, that I was having a very hard time focusing on some of the old happy. So I went to my albums and started searching at random hoping to find something hat would catch my interest. I found something that made me cry, so I suppose that fits the bill. It certainly seems appropriate given some of the main points of stress we are experiencing as a family right now.

AMAZING News

What a busy, exhausting, and emotionally draining several weeks I've had. Many things have not been good, and I will probably update about them in a later blog, but I have some AMAZING news right now that I just can't keep to myself. After all, when your boys do great, you have to brag on them right?

I've Got The Fever

Baby fever that is. Luckily I'm not alone. I think hubby has it too. At the very least I know he's thinking about it. At the Boise Music Festival on Saturday there seemed to be no end of pregnant people and people with very small babies. (Well, there was no end of people in general, but an unusual number of them did seem to be expecting or new parents.) At first I thought it was just me noticing this, but then hubby said "Look at all the babies here today! It makes me want another one!" Women very rarely get to hear that sort of thing from their husbands from what I'm told, so I feel very lucky.

Flashback Friday: Graduation

Three years ago this week I flew down to Texas to watch my husband graduate from BMT! I had never flown alone, never traveled alone, never lived alone, and certainly never imagined living across the country from where I had grown up, but all those things were happening or about to happen.

I was so very proud of him! I still am!

It was an amazing weekend, and saying goodbye again at the end of it was so hard, but it is also a favorite weekend of mine to look back on. I hope you enjoy it too!

Thankful Thursday

I am having a hard time being thankful today. Overall, it hasn't been a good day. Still, I feel it's important to find the silver lining in every rain cloud, so I am going to try.

The USAF: Reflections

Looking at my blog, I guess I really don't blog about the Air Force much. I probably should. After all it's a major part of our lives...and often a frustrating one...and blogging is one of my main sources for venting my frustrations.

All Give Some, Some Give All

 

Memorial day. A day we don't have to work. A day to bar-b-q, drink, splash in the pool. A day to hang out with family and friends. Memorial day is seen by most as the official kick off to Summer. The first big hurrah of the season. Sometimes there's even fireworks.

Cloth Diapering: Day One

I'm trying not to get frustrated...really I am. I understand that these things will take time to get used to, but if any of you out there have some advice I am more than open to it.

I should point out that we have always disposable diapered Parker. We have talked about cloth diapering our next baby, but after an incident that happened with Parker this week we thought we might start cloth diapering him part time. We are still planning on using disposables for bed time and long trips up to Boise, but want to start using cloth during the day.

Today wasn't a complete failure. I can see how, in theory, this could be a good thing for us.

But...

...To start off with we didn't want to buy super expensive diapers, just in case. So we have some pre-fold cloth diapers by Gerber. For some reason, even though I am following the directions, I can't seem to make them fit correctly. I am sure that there is just something simple I'm missing, but it's very frustrating, and not made any easier by my wiggily, squiggily, baby! This is compounded by the fear I have of sticking him when I put the pins in to secure the diapers. (I know they have safe, plastic clips instead of the poky diaper pins, but they didn't have any where we went to get diapers. I'd have to go up to Boise and see if I can find any there.) Being so afraid of sticking him, and his constant wiggles during a diaper change doesn't result in the best fit, even if I was confident that I am doing it correctly.

Of course, 5 minutes after I got the first one on him today, he pooped...and it went everywhere. Luckily, I had the little plastic diaper covers on, but still. I changed him as quickly as possible, and threw the soiled diaper in the wash. I set a load to soak, since I was sure that I'd have more diapers before the day was through. 

I was right. In fact, I think that my son pees more than any other child on the planet. Every 15 minutes or so, he potties. At that rate, I'm changing him every 30-45 minutes to keep him from leaking, even with the diaper covers. (Which is another story all together. I hate the stupid plastic covers. I know they have cute covers with designs and different materials, but I didn't want to spend a bunch of money up front if we end up not going with this cloth diaper thing.)

I just don't know. I'm at a bit of a loss. This is something I'm very interested in for both Parker and any future children we have, but we aren't off to a very good start. I don't have anyone around here I can ask about it, and all the stuff I've looked at online is so expensive. I understand that it's cheaper in the long run, but I don't want to spend a bunch if it ends up not working out. Isn't there some cheap way to do some kind of trial period? Is there something better than the pre-fold diapers? Where is a good place to get them? What are some good covers? Like I said before, any advice is welcome. In fact, I'd love it!!!

On another note, tomorrow is Michael and my 5th wedding anniversary! It's also Michael's 3rd anniversary of joining the Air Force. (He left for BMT on our 2nd anniversary. What a gift!) I love him so much and am so blessed to have him in my life! 

God bless and thank you for reading! 

 

It's Been A Long Time Coming...

 

I am so excited to finally be typing this!!!

Two and a half years ago, exhausted both emotionally and physically, Michael and I packed the car up with the "kids" (which, at that time, consisted of only our three furry children) and left Ohio! We were on our way to adventure and excitement in Idaho...OK, not so much. But "Home is Where the Air Force Sends You", and they sent us to Idaho. So, you make the best of it. (And pray for orders!)

We haven't been home since that cold December morning. I haven't even left the state in the last 2 and a half years, and while Michael has left, neither trip was exactly a vacation. (Once was for his grandfather's funeral and the other was for his deployment.) Members of my family have come out twice, but there is still much of my family that has never met Parker. None of Michael's family has. We haven't seen our oldest niece in over 2 years, and we've never even met our youngest niece yet. It's hard, but it is also the military life, and we have to take the good with the bad. (And there is good, believe it or not.)

But now I can finally say it!!! WE'RE GOING HOME!!! Not for good or anything, but for almost 3 weeks in May! Michael got his leave approved today and I booked the tickets right away! he specifically didn't take leave after coming home from his deployment so that he would be able to ask for longer leave this Spring. We've wanted to go home for so long, and didn't know if we'd be able to make it this year. Michael is testing for Rank and there is a lot going on in the shop this Summer...we just weren't sure it was going to happen. The tickets are bought now though, so short of some emergency, we're going!!!

Before moving, I had never gone for more than a month without seeing my grandparents, now it has been 2 and a half years. I never imagined a time when I would go a year without going to the movies with my sister or that I wouldn't be the one taking my brother out when he turned 21 last winter. It's just so different. Like I said, it is the life, and we take the good with the bad, but I can hope for a day when we are stationed closer to home. I want to see the world and experience other countries and cultures, but while the children are little I would love for them to be closer to their family.

I can always dream, right?

Right now I'll take what I can get, and what I can get is a vacation home with my two favorite guys to see our amazing family and friends and framily!!! I am so excited!!!

God bless and thank you for reading!

About Our Family

The above picture seems like it was taken such a long time ago, and on the other hand it seems like it was just yesterday. In reality, it's been over a year since this was taken. Our son, Parker, was less than a month old. It's still one of my favorite family pictures, despite the fact that Parker is obviously deeply unimpressed. This picture was a long time coming in our lives.

Michael and I met when we were 16 and 19 years old. I trained him on a register at Wendys. It was the first time I had ever trained someone, and I was so nervous that I was going to mess it up. He told me I was hovering, and I remember liking his freckles. Not the most romantic story ever, but that is how we met. I plan on making up something cuter to tell our children one day.

We didn't start dating for two years. We were friends, in fact, he was my best friend, but we didn't become a couple for quite awhile. Apparently, we were the last people to see it coming too. I suppose that's often how it goes. It was January of 2002 before we made it "official", whatever that means, but I was already pretty head over heels by that point.

We were engaged before we had been together 5 months. I guess once it hit, it hit hard.

 

(Wow, we look so young!!!)

We were married in May of 2005. It was a long engagement. We were hoping I'd be done with school, but due to some scheduling conflicts with classes, I was still a semester away. It was the most beautiful day I had ever seen. I had the most handsome man waiting for me at the other end of the isle. It was small and cheaply done. My mother made my bouquet, my grandmother made my cake, we used an iPod for a DJ, and we all decorated the basement of the church together the night before...but it was the most beautiful wedding you could imagine!

We had hoped to try for children when we'd been married about a year, but I'm broken. I have a tumor on my pituitary gland. It's non-cancerous, as far as they know, but it presses against my gland and causes it to release extra prolactin into my system. In very simple terms, it tricks my body into thinking I am already pregnant and/or breastfeeding, making it very difficult or impossible to get pregnant in some cases. There are medications to help decrease the levels and the size of the tumor, but even seeing an endocrinologist is expensive, not to mention the MRIs and medication...I was teaching, Michael was bartending, and we were far from rich. With what my levels were we were told that trying would be pointless, and that even if I got pregnant my body would probably kill my baby. 

I also have a thyroid disorder, which can make pregnancy difficult anyways. Seemed like I had all the odds stacked against me.  

It was rough on us. It was rough on our marriage. Having children was something that had to go on the back burner for awhile, and it killed me. I had an amazing husband though, who got me through the roughest of times and promised me that, when the time was right, God would give us our baby. I trusted him sometimes. 

If you are interested in learning more about prolactinomas, feel free to check out Wikipedia, Med TV, the Endocrin and Metabolic Diseases website, Google Health, or any other medical web sites. Honestly, there is more to tell about them that I could write in several blogs, but it is a common issue that many women, and men, struggle with.

In 2007 Michael fulfilled a life long dream and joined the United States Air Force. He left for BMT on our 2nd wedding anniversary. I can not begin to express how proud I am of my husband! He serves our country to make it better and safer for everyone, and he provides for our family doing what he does. He was gone for 7 months of training, and it was hard. I got to go down to visit him in Texas a few times, but it was the longest we had ever been apart. It was worth it though! I support him in everything he does and am a very proud military wife.

We got stationed in Idaho...yes, there is a base out here. I didn't believe it either. The day after my 24th birthday we left Ohio and drove across the country to our new home. I can't say we're in love with it, but it is home for now. 

In the Summer of 2008 we decided to Hell with the doctors and medical science. I was on medication for my tumor that made me sick as a dog twice a week, and we still couldn't get the OK to start trying. "It wasn't the right time" or "Just a little longer" or "Maybe next year.". It was again starting to bring me down and down far, and finally one night Michael just said to Hell with it, we would try and leave it in God's hands and let Him, not some doctor, decide when the time was right.

Apparently, God was just waiting for us to hand over the reins. After years of negative pregnancy tests, tears, worries that it would never happen, we got pregnant! Our little surprise Bunny Boo (because we decided not to find out the sex until the baby was born) was due in April 2009! I was scared that my damn body would reject my little miracle, but Michael had no worry, and in the end he was right. On April, 13, 2009, one day short of my due date, our first child was born.

 

We named our son Michael Parker-Maxwin. We had always known that our first boy would be Michael Parker. It had been something we talked about on our 3rd or 4th date I think. Michael after his Daddy and Parker because it was a name we both liked, but when our son was born, Michael said he looked like his grandfather, Max Edwin, who had passed away the Spring before. So, after three days in the hospital trying to decide, we added Maxwin to our baby boy's name. I love it, and love that it is unique without being weird.

And so our duo became a trio shortly before our 4th wedding anniversary. It made our family so much better. It was wonderful and whole before, but Parker made it more so.

And that is our family. Well, us, two cats and a dog...our other children...Shamrock, Tessa and Jake. 

We just went through our first deployment. It was so hard. So very hard. But I think it too has made us stronger. I know nothing can get to us now, not if we can survive that.

Now that I have written a short novel, I'll be off. I think you know all you need to know, and probably more than you wanted about our little family.

As always, Thank You For Reading.

First First Christmas

Another Christmas come and gone, and it occurred to me as I watched people carry returns into Wal-Mart on Saturday that the reason for the season really has been lost on many. (I was there for some baby food and gloves...not to return anything. Of course, it would be kind of hard to return nothing...)

We are waiting to have Christmas until Hubby/Daddy is home from his deployment. After all, Christmas is just a day on the calendar. As Christians, we are supposed to celebrate Jesus every day...I am assuming that He won't mind if we celebrate his birthday on a day that differs from the general population. In fact, Jesus probably understands our motivation better than we do. After all, who better to know the pain we feel by being separated as a family than Him. He is supposed to know us better than anyone.

Of course, because it was Parker's first Christmas, I didn't feel that we could skip in entirely. After all, he only gets one first Christmas Day, and I only get one first Christmas as a Mommy. It was my first year to play Santa! So, our lucky son will get TWO First Christmases...How many children can claim that? What a lucky boy.

First First Christmas we celebrated on December 25th with the rest of the world. Not only was Daddy gone, but both of our families are back in Ohio, leaving Parker and I to celebrate alone. As depressing as it sounds, it was more enjoyable than I had dared to hope it could have been. I underestimated my son's ability to cheer up his Mommy. The lucky little boy got 2 presents on Christmas Eve, a pair of First Christmas PJs and a board book copy of The Night Before Christmas. He loves being read to, and curled up with me happily to listen. We then curled up together to watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas...which Mommy can recite almost perfectly. I apparently don't impress though, since Parker fell off to sleep about half way through. I nestled him all snug in his bed, though I have no idea if he dreamed of sugar plums. Probably not. It is much more likely that he had visions of puppies and balls dancing in his head than sugar plums.

Then I got to play Santa! Grandpa and Hootie and Great-Grandmama and Great-Grandpapa sent some gifts for our first, smaller Christmas, and Parker got to open one gift from Mommy and Daddy. (All the others are wrapped and put up for Second First Christmas) I wonder if Santa has some kind of magic that makes the milk cold again when he is done with all those presents...or maybe he eats them first. It didn't seem right to do it like that though...seemed like Santa should do the work before enjoying dessert. Still...my milk was warm by the time I got to it. I poured new milk, wondering if Santa does that too, and thinking how that just doesn't seem right. Any other night of the year if a magical fat man broke into your house and started raiding your fridge you'd be furious...so is it OK on Christmas Eve? And if so, WHY is it OK on Christmas Eve and no other night of the year?

I had treated myself to some new fuzzy socks for Christmas, so I put them on along with my Christmas PJs and watched television until I was tired enough to think I could go to bed without dwelling too much on the fact that I would be experiencing our first Christmas morning as a "family" with my husband half way around the world. It worked for the most part, and I fell asleep looking forward to the next day.

Parker was perfectly content to eat breakfast before presents...something I don't anticipate happening ever again. He was politely interested in the pile of brightly wrapped boxes that had appeared overnight under the tree, and he crawled over to investigate, stopping once or twice to glance at the singing Whos on TV. (We had the Grinch on again) Unwrapping took awhile. He wanted to eat the paper, then he would realize that there was a toy in there and would want to play with it...But it was so much fun getting to watch him figure out the present thing! What a perfect age for his first Christmas! AND, Daddy got to watch some of it on Web-Cam! So, even half way around the world, we were "together" for Parker's First Christmas.

We are blessed in out friends. Parker and I did not have to spend the entire day just the two of us. We were invited to go and spend the day with our friend Ivy and his family. They even had gifts for us! I would not have got through this holiday season without Ivy. We've been with him for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, and it has helped to make this time easier on both myself and Parker. Parker enjoys playing with his little boy, Trenton, and I get to have some adult conversation and not dwell on how very much I miss the other half of my soul. I hope that Parker and I have in some way managed to return the friendship and given them some of the joy they have given us.

And so, First First Christmas has come and gone, and I survived...which is more than I had thought I could do. I missed my husband so much, but I was still blessed in that I was experiencing my son's first Christmas! It is a day I can never have back, and I loved it! So many milestones happen so quickly when they are so small...and every single one is a blessing to my heart. Not long now until Michael should be home, and then we'll have Second First Christmas...and so much more!

I hope you all had a beautiful holiday and were as blessed in yours as I was in mine.

Thanks for reading.