Sacrifices of a Military Wife

I don't usually dwell on the sacrifices we make as a military family.  After all, I knew what I signed up for when I married the uniformed man of my dreams.  We have been considerably lucky having my husband home for most birthdays, holidays and special events over the last eleven years.  I consider myself very strong and independent and incredibly proud of the sacrifices my husband makes for our country.  But there have been several hardships that have brought me to my knees over the years.  Only God and the support of my friends and family have seen me through.

There is an unwritten "military Murphy's Law" if you will.  If anything can go wrong, it will...as soon as they walk out the door.  The most significant and excruciating event I have faced alone was the birth and death of our first born, Joshua.  I say "alone" not because I was truly alone.  I had my parents, extended family, and friends holding me up every step of the way.   But my soul, my love, the father of my child, was not there with me.  My husband, Nick, was at Hurlburt Field, FL for several months of training.  We had been made aware of several birth defects and complications with our pregnancy and I was staying with my parents in Arkansas.

When the day came (ten weeks early), terror set in.  I was truly alone in the house the day my water broke on June 13, 2005.  My parents arrived soon after and off to the hospital we went.  Of course, I called Nick on the way but the drive from FL to AR is at least 10 hours.  A couple of hours later, after an easy delivery (physically at least) our son was born, weighing in at 3lbs 1oz.  Joshua had a heart condition and was in respiratory distress.  I could feel the mood in the room as they attempted to keep him alive.  He lived 22 minutes and died in my arms, with a grasp on my finger.  To quote a movie, "how lucky I am as a mother, that I was there when he came into this world and there when he drifted out."  Of course pain immediately set in.  The pain of delivery was non-existent.  Only a numbness of mind and body.  But the emotional toll that followed was almost unbearable  The pain of losing my son.  The pain of my husband absent for his birth.  The pain in the realization that my husband would never hold his beautiful son while he is alive.  The pain he must be feeling as he continues the long drive to meet us.  As horrific as it was for me, I can't imagine the pain, devastation, and guilt he must have felt mile after mile.  The longest drive of his life.

The second instance that comes to mind, although seemingly mild in comparison to the first, was the hospitalization of my son, Jackson at 8 months.  Nick was  TDY in Colorado Springs, CO and Jackson developed a respiratory infection and the croup.  It was necessary to admit him to the hospital in Clovis, NM for treatment and observation.  I will never forget my lifeless baby boy, dehydrated and wheezing, lying on the table as they attempted to start an IV.  Nurse after nurse came in and stuck his little body.  First his arm.  Then his leg.  Then his head.  Then his arm again.  He was so weak he could barely cry.  It was heart wrenching as a mother to see my baby in that kind of misery.  I stayed overnight beside him in that tiny hospital crib covered in a croup tent.  Thank God for my friend, Krissa, who kept Megan for me.  She was three years old at the time and my family was hours away.  Only one night in the hospital, and we were released to go home.  Thankfully, he recovered quickly.

The most recent gut-check moment happened just yesterday.  I picked up my five year old daughter, Megan, from school and I took her and Jackson to the park to play.  We weren't there five minutes when I see her body plummet to the ground followed by a scream of agony.  She had fallen from the monkey bars.  Death traps of playgrounds.  I could tell immediately that it was broken.  Now in Fort Walton Beach, FL, hours away from family, I again depend on the love and generosity of a friend.  My friend, Katie, quickly took Jackson off of my hands and off to the ER we went.  Nick is again TDY in Mildenhall AFB, England with no immediate way of contacting him.  A message was sent through the command post and I just had to wait for a call from him.  In the meantime, x-rays were done and I was informed it was a buckle fracture and that we would need to wait for an Ortho consult and cast. The next thing I know they are asking me when she has last eaten or drank anything.  "That's a surgery question," I say.  It has been decided that due to the angle of the break, the doctor will need to reset the bone under anesthesia.  Anesthesia!  My baby is only 5 years old and I'm here all by myself.  What if something goes wrong?  Needless to say an IV had to be started and this was when it got interesting.  It took four nurses and myself to hold her down, kicking and screaming.  Tears streaming down Megan's face, my face and two of the nurse's faces.  She kept screaming, "I want to go home".  The most heart breaking moment was in moment of calmness when she turned to me and said, "I shouldn't have asked to go to the park, Mommy.  This is all my fault."  Rip my heart out and stomp on it why don't you?  After overhearing comments and damn near getting applause for leaving the ER, we were headed to the OR.  The "10 to 20 minute" procedure took about 45 horrible minutes.  My mind ran through every scenario.  What if something went wrong and Nick isn't here?  How do I make those kind of decisions on my own?  Thankfully, all went well.  We were able to speak with Nick this morning and he reassured his baby girl that everything will be okay.

Of course these instances spring to mind because they involve my children.  There have been countless  problems to deal with on my own.  From house maintenance to unplanned expenses, loss of friends and family, and just the day to day challenge of raising small children who miss their Daddy.  I have been given strength by my Father and I know with his help I can survive almost anything.  I have been so very fortunate to be blessed with a loving supportive family who would be there for me at a moment's notice.  I have developed friends who are more like family.  Those relationships are bonded for life and their prayers and encouragement get me through when I want to give up.

My husband's service and sacrifice for his country is a source of great pride for me.  I am so thankful to have a good man who steps up when called.  What a great example he is to my children!  My prayer today is for those military spouses alone today.  For whatever trials and tribulations you are facing at the moment, may God give you a peace and the strength to face them.  May you be blessed, as I have, with unending support around you.  Amen.

15 Down and 15 To Go

Well, it has been a little over 3 weeks since my "resolution" to commit to weight loss.  I am proud to say I have beaten the national average of failed resolutions.  I have lost 15 pounds to date and am continuing with determination to lose 15 more by April.  I already feel better, have more energy, and have noticed a great difference in the way my clothes fit.  I no longer have the dreaded muffin top!  Thank you to all of my  friends who seem to have hung on to the weight loss bandwagon with me (though some have been dragged behind the wheels).  Your support is very crucial to my ability to stay away from Daylight Donuts!

A Prayer For My Children

After tucking my little angels in their beds tonight,  I began reflecting on the last few years.  I guess the New Year sparks these kinds of feelings.  What am I doing wrong and how can I make changes in my life?

My babies are growing up so fast.  As a mother, I can't help but wonder if I am giving them the right tools to grow in God's love.  I pray over my children daily and I can only hope that with total guidance from my Father, they will grow morally and spiritually stable.

My prayer...

Dear God, help my children learn to trust in you early in their lives and remain faithfully committed to your ways throughout their lives.

In their busyness, may my children have quiet moments in which they think and reflect about You in their lives.

Father, fill me with sensitivity and insight that I may understand the best ways to guide my children so they may grow in your wisdom and love.

Gracious God, infuse in each of my children the awareness that the world is filled with teachers.  May they see others as being sent by you into their lives to teach them to learn better patience, greater love, more compassion.

May my children be open and affirming of all others.  May they be the ones who reach out, embracing those who are left out or left behind.

Dear God, whenever my children face trial, trouble, or fear, let them naturally turn to you for guidance and strength.  May my children know this powerful promise of scripture: "The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms"
{ Deuteronomy 33:27}.

Father, convictions mean nothing unless there is courage to stand up for them.  May my children "be strong and courageous" {Joshua 1:6}, standing up for those treated unkindly and unjustly.

Loving God, although family life is often hectic and busy, help me to listen with patience to the worries, troubles, and problems my children may have.

May my children exhibit kindness in their speech.  Let the words of Psalm 19:14 be true for my children:  "May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight."

In times of moral uncertainty and temptation, empower my children to exhibit spiritual stability.  May the words of Joshua have a firm grip in their hearts:  "You are to hold fast to the Lord your God" {Joshua 23:8}.

Father, let my children be like Jesus who "grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men" {Luke 2:52}.

Gracious God, give my children more love, more self-denial, more willingness to sacrifice for others.  Let them understand deeply that it is more blessed to give than to receive.

As my children go out this day, may your loving protection go ahead of them, be behind them, hover over them, and stand beside them.  This day, protect them from every danger.

Amen.

The Never Ending Journey

It's January.  That glorious time of the year when everything wrong with your life becomes glaringly obvious.  You are forced to make resolutions that, let's face it, won't make it past a week or two.  Gym memberships sky rocket, smokeless cigarette sales are through the roof, and churches are packed.  I cancelled my gym membership before the holidays because I have realized, despite the best intentions, I'm NOT going to go and I can use that $40 a month on a new pair of boots or a pedicure.  

I have made some "resolutions" or maybe more accurately, set some goals for myself to include better parenting, increased marital communication, spiritual growth, and of course the inevitable weight loss.  While the first three goals are important and may seem daunting to some, the latter seems to be the anchor around my waist.

I'm two and a half years post baby and am still carrying around "baby weight".  In all honesty, I'm still hanging onto extra pounds from my first, second and third babies.  At 124 pounds before children, I was a healthy size 4, felt good, and had tons of energy.

Look, my thighs weren't even touching!

I don't blame my children completely for my weight gain, but they did get the ball rolling...

My first pregnancy with Joshua in 2005.

Then came Megan in 2006.

And then Jackson in 2009, yes there's just one in there!

Well, here I am now...

2 1/2 years post baby...

at 162 pounds...

Normally, I would NEVER post my weight for all to see.  However, previous conventional weight loss efforts haven't worked for me, so I thought I'd go extreme.  I'm going to need the encouragement, prayers and accountability from friends and family.

Some of you may be thinking, for three babies she looks pretty good.  Ok, maybe I'm just hoping you are thinking that!  I know I'm not hideous.  I manage to hide most of the rolls with layers of clothing, but I am by no means healthy.  According to my BMI (body mass index), I am in the obese category.  Time to make some changes.  

I've set a realistic goal, I think.  I want to lose 30 pounds in the next 4 months.  I don't have visions of six pack abs and a svelte beach body.  I would, however, like to wear an age appropriate two piece swimsuit on the beach this summer without looking like a beached whale.

I've taken steps to implement my plan.  I've cleared the house of junk food to include homemade Christmas yumminess.  I really did almost cry as I threw out the candied bacon butter.  I've started reading food labels, avoiding artificial sweeteners, and limiting calories, bad fats, and high carb foods.  I'm moving more.  As I said before, I cancelled my gym membership.  It's just not my thing.  Running on the treadmill and getting nowhere, breathing like I'm carrying Brett Favre on my back (though that might make the run more pleasant), and staring at the size 2 ass in front of me who hasn't broken a sweat and looks as if she's floating on clouds...no thanks.  I'm going to walk in the mall at least 3 times a week while it's cold.  The senior citizens seem to walk at more my speed.  And as the weather allows, I'm planning more bike rides/walks/hikes as a family.

It seems simple, right?  Eat less.  Move more.  Here's hoping it prevails despite the many previous failed new year's resolutions.  Week 1 and I'm down 4 pounds.  Water weight, I know, but it's enough to keep me motivated for now.  I'm determined.  Wish me luck!

Dear...

Dear School Fundraisers,

No thank you.  I understand the importance of raising money for your school which will in turn, better my child’s education.  However, could we space them out a little bit?  Does every school in the district have to sell the same crappy items in the same two-week span?  I don’t need any more overpriced candles, wrapping paper or frozen tubs of cookie deliciousness.  I can’t even pawn off the buying responsibility on grandparents due to the impossibility of shipping the afore mentioned frozen treats out of state.  And to the other moms of fundraising children, I won’t even buy crap from my own child.  Why would I buy anything from yours?  With that said, anyone wanna place an order from my adorable 4 year old so she can get her worthless prize for selling something you don’t need and can’t afford?


Dear Lady Who Cut Me Off In The McDonald’s Drive Thru,

Why is this such a difficult concept to grasp?  There are two drive thru lanes at McDonald’s to help speed the flow of traffic.  It is important to be aware of your place in the ordering process.  You don’t just speed around and cut me off just because you think you have the right of way.  First of all, you almost totaled the front end of my car.  Secondly, you thoroughly confused the 12 year old at the window.  Did you wonder at all why he asked you for $9.67 for a cup of coffee?  Pay attention and wait your turn!  If you can’t wrap your brain around this, perhaps you should buy yourself a coffee pot and keep your McMuffin at home.


Dear Size 0 Supermodels At The Gym,

I think you’ve reached your goal.  Go home.  This is fat lady time at the gym.  I was feeling pretty good with my 4 mile workout until your anorexic group surrounded me on the treadmills.  I’m sweating my booty off, gasping for air and you run at a speed that makes me look like I’m standing still while looking like you stepped out of a magazine.  They should really make a schedule.  Anyone under a size 6 can workout during mealtimes, since you obviously don’t eat anyway.

Satan is an A-Hole!

While driving to school this morning, I was having a typical discussion with Megan about God and Satan.  She's always quite chatty in the car in the mornings, reciting memory verses and stories she has learned from school.  She was telling me all about how good God was and that He see's everything.  She began mumbling then blurted out "Satan is an A-hole!"  Shocked, I asked, "What did you say?"  "Satan is an A-hole!", she repeated.  I proceeded to explain that word was inappropriate and we don't say that.  I asked where she learned that word and she said her teacher.  I knew that wasn't possible.  I scolded her again and told her we should talk about God and how good He is and not about Satan.  He wasn't worth talking about.  She continued babbling happily as my thoughts drifted.  

Megan has a habit of repeating words even after she knows they aren't allowed.  She will say something like, "We don't say Stupid.  Stupid is a bad word."  Contemplating this possibility, I felt it may be wise to warn her teacher of her new found vocabulary.  I wouldn't want her caught off guard by my daughter spewing profanity.  I walked Megan to her classroom and pulled Mrs. C. to the side.  I begin to explain, my eyes filled with shame.  She stopped me mid-sentence, her eyes wide and a smile forming.  She begin to chuckle as she explained she had been teaching that Satan was an ANGEL!  An ANGEL!  Of course!  Why hadn't I thought of that?  I was so relieved.  We laughed for a moment before I slinked out of the classroom and down the hall, practically jogging to my car.  

Embarrassed but elated, I started the car already forming thoughts of another inevitable discussion this afternoon.  I must now explain to Megan with precise pronunciation that ANGEL is not a bad word!

DIY Project With My Kiddo

With Megan now learning to perfect her handwriting in Kindergarten, I have been searching for inventive ideas to help her.  I came up with a project we could do together.  A perpetual calendar seems like an antiquated idea in this age of technology, but I still find a wall calendar both charming and necessary to schedule my weekly activities.  I can never find a store-bought calendar that appeals to me.  Lighthouses and kittens don't really fit into my home decor.  I felt a home-made perpetual calendar would be both a fun project for Megan and a low-tech way to track the days forever and ever (i.e. post zombie apocalypse).

Gather your kids, supplies, and creativity and get started!

What you will need:  card stock paper, markers or crayons, magnetic tape, magnetic dry erase board, clear packing tape

1.  Have child write number (1-31) and months onto cardstock.  

2.  Cut numbers into squares and months into rectangles and have child color or decorate.

3.  "Laminate" numbers and months with packing tape, placing paper in between two pieces of tape.  Press firmly and trim edges.

4.  Cut magnetic tape into pieces and paste on back of laminated numbers and months.

5.  Position numbers and month onto magnetic dry erase board or calendar.  You now have a masterpiece created by your little one that can be used for many years to come.

Mmmmm.....cheese.

In an effort to continue on my never-ending weight loss journey, I was online researching fat/calorie content of my favorite restaurant foods.  I took a little detour when I stumbled upon this...

Denny's Mac 'n Cheese Big Daddy Patty Melt

http://www.dennys.com/#/menu/menu-13

Wow!  A whopping 1,690 calories and 99g of fat!  Are you kidding me?  Could anyone, in good conscience, read the nutritional information and continue to stuff this greasy mound of artery-hardening substance into their pie hole?  Now, Lord knows I'm no health nut.  McDonald's sweet tea and Hershey's chocolate bars keep me going most days.  But this is just too extreme.  

Family Photos

I don't know why I continue to have visions of Norman Rockwell style family photos.  Every holiday and special occasion I envision us all nestled together in front of the camera, smiling sweetly, producing images worthy of the cover of a magazine.  This has never been the case, nor will it ever be.  While most children turn into smiling, posing little hams at the sight of a camera, mine run fleeing in the opposite direction.  Maybe I took too many photos of them as babies.  Maybe I scarred their little retinas with flash after flash of every milestone in their lives.  Maybe their Native American ancestry is coming through and they are afraid the camera will steal their spirit.  Whatever the case may be, they hate to have photos taken.  I usually begin bargaining with promises of ice cream and candy then quickly resort to threatening and beating between snapshots.  (Screaming and tear-free cries can sometimes appear as beautiful smiles in a photograph...a little memory editing may be needed.)

We haven't had the dreaded family photos taken since Jackson was born more than two years ago, so I felt a torture session was in order. I enlisted the help of my dear friend and photographer, Audrea White.  With camera in hand and armed with the patience of Job, she proceeded to snap some beautiful images of our family.  

Here are a few of my favorites...

The Good Wife's Guide

This is an actual article from Good Housekeeping 1955.  Wow!  I won't say I disagree with the entire concept, but let's just say, I'm NOT a good wife!