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. 

Another Overdue Update

I have decided that I really need to start setting myself set blogging days. I always have so much to say, but I never end up getting it done, and then I end up having to write these obnoxious update blogs that make me feel like a slacker. *sigh*

I guess to start out, I am still doing projects every week. However, shortly after writing my last post, my laptop decided to die. I am currently being forced to do everything on Michael's old laptop, which has neither my pictures or picture programs on it, so you won't see a post with details and pictures on any of my projects until he gets home. Sorry about that. I am just not tech savvy enough to fix my own laptop, and he hasn't been able to talk me through it over the phone.

Speaking of homecomings, I am starting to get really worried. This is nothing new for me, but it is still hard every time. Homecomings look like a very easy, beautiful thing on TV...and they are beautiful, but they are also nerve wracking, stressful, and hard. Not for everyone, I'm sure, and not impossibly so, but they are an adjustment. I, being a creature of habit and not nearly as "go with the flow" as I try to pretend I am, have a hard time with the huge shift of my every day life. Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled to have my husband home. It is change, though, and takes some time for me to get used to.

Sebastian's birthday has come and gone. I have pictures, which I will share when I can. We had a good time. We had a special dinner and cupcakes with some friends of ours, and then we did the smash cake (an owl) and some presents over Skype with Daddy. The plan is to have an actual birthday party after Daddy gets home in the Fall. Sebastian won't know the difference, and I know that it will mean a lot for Daddy to be there. 

I can't believe my baby is one. It seems like the year went by so quickly. I miss having a new baby to snuggle and love on (Baby Fever, here we come!), but I love watching him develop and grow. I felt the same way with Parker, but I think it is worse this time. Maybe because I know how fast it is going to go by now. How soon I will have a chattering, smart, inquisitive three year old in front of me. It's scary how fast it has happened with Parker, and it feels like it has gone by so much faster with Sebastian. Maybe because I have two now? I wonder if that means any more we have will happen in a blink. Probably. That makes me sad too.

Yes, we want more children. Yes, we will probably start discussing that soon. No, I don't want your opinion on the issue. If I want to have as many children as the Duggers and I am the one raising and taking care of them, it really isn't anyone's business. Thanks. (For the people who think they have the right to tell me what to do with my uterus.)

I will write more soon. Like I said, I plan on making myself blog on certain days. Goodness knows I need it.

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: Happy Anniversary!

Tomorrow is my 6 year wedding anniversary. With material like that, it wasn't hard to decide what I was going to flash back to this Friday. I've known my husband for 11 years and in January we will have been together for 10 of those, but tomorrow, May 28th, marks the anniversary of the day I became his Mrs.

Of course, this year it is bittersweet because he is gone. When we got married he wasn't in the military yet, so it never crossed my mind that we'd be spending anniversaries apart. The trend started early though, as he left for BMT on the day of our 2nd anniversary back in 2007. So it's kind of a double anniversary for us every year since. 6 years ago he became my husband, 4 years ago he became a hero. I am so proud and blessed to be his wife.

Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle

I love being pregnant! Yes, I am sick as a dog with no end in site. I have heartburn whenever I eat anything yummy, and sometimes I feel like a whale...but I still love being pregnant. For all the bad (and every pregnancy has various stages of bad) there are things that are just so good that they make up for anything I have to go through to experience them!

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?

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.

A Death In The "Family"

It's hard to explain unless you've lived it. It's hard to make someone understand why reading a blog of a woman I've never met could make me lay my head down at the computer and sob. I don't know her, her daughter or her husband. They aren't even a part of the same military branch as we are...but if you are in the military you are part of a family. You are part of a group of people who all share the same fears, hardships, hopes, trials...and sometimes losses.

This week, a 23 year old mother and marine wife lost her husband in Afghanistan. There is a baby girl who will never meet a father who loved her. I, who am never at a loss for words, can think of nothing to say...because I know, in the same situation, nothing of use could be said to me. 

My love and prayers and tears go out to their family! God bless the wives and children and families who give up their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, daughters, sons, etc. God bless the Marines and Airmen and Soldiers and Sailors who give up so much, and sometimes everything so that people in this country can live the way they do...and sometimes show no appreciation for it at all.

God Bless the Porto Family, and keep them strong in their greatest time of need.

Thank you for reading.