Once Upon a Dream

I have a confession.

I watch almost no tv for normal grownups. One should expect that I watch more than my fair share of animated programs with two littles to entertain. But even so, you would think that after the kiddos headed off to bed I would finally find something a little less rated G and a little more OMG.

Nope.

I got on a "Friends" kick during the deployment, but the only real reason that one took off (aside from the fact that it is completely hilarious) is because it plays on Nickelodeon, which is the channel my tv was usually on anyway.

I tell you this so that you won't judge me as I completely gush over my newest obsession, "Glee." OMGlee!
Last week, I was at the library trying to help my son find the Wiggle Safari DVD that he likes to rent out like every other week, and I found season 2 of Glee wedged between Homeward Bound and Yo Gabba Gabba. (Seriously, the movie filing system in that place needs a major overhaul, but that's neither here nor there.) I decided that if I had to be forced to watch The Wiggles wiggle yet again, I should finally check out a little something more grown up for me to watch to take the edge off at the end of the night. (Besides, I think I am on my tenth recycle of all the Friends episodes on Nick at Nite at this point anyway.) Plus, I like musicals. "This should be fun," I thought.

It really, really was. I finished the entire season in four nights, and I am terrified to look to see if the library has the other seasons--partly because if they do, I am going to neglect my school work indefinitely trying to watch them all--and if they don't, I might just fall into a panic attack not knowing when I'll get to watch another one.

Anyway, onto the main reason why this all matters to me...

I may have mentioned this a time or two before, but I love to sing. Madly. I remember sitting next to my sister on road trips and getting into so many fights because I wouldn't stop singing. Every single song that came on the radio I belted out at the top of my lungs. She would flip the stations and I would just pick up the new song right where it was at. Genre after genre. My poor sister. I didn't suck, but it probably would have been nice of me to shut up every once in a while :)

Even now, I find myself getting lost in the radio and only snapping out of my daydream when I finally hear my daughter screaming at me that her brother.......
Well, he did something. I wasn't really listening to what she said he did, because I was in the middle of my jam.

Watching this show has made me ache to sing. On a stage. Or in the middle of a school cafeteria. And with some super awesome choreography. I am not partial. That's why I've been settling for my shower--sans choreography because that just sounds dangerous.

I've always done a lot of daydreaming about singing and I still nurse the dream a little bit every day. Probably one of the reasons I can't shake my dream is because it is the one I neglected to chase--either because I was too chicken or because I felt it was too far-fetched. I sang in choirs. I did the occasional church solo. I even took lead in my highschool musical. But I never once made any serious effort to pursue the thing that I have always felt so strongly about.

There are certain conversations in life that bring you to a crossroads. Mine was with my mother. We were sitting in our car together outside of a school parking lot and she asked me if singing was something I wanted to pursue for the future. I told her I thought that chasing a singing career would be foolish without having an education and career plan as a fallback.
Now I am jobless and sing in the shower.

Obviously, it is too little too late to chase that dream--and that's okay for me, because I am living one of my other ones. I don't for one second regret the life I live now, but I think I do regret never even trying for a life I'd pictured myself in so often. I reached my crossroads and I put up a roadblock. My dream felt too big to chase so I shut it down with a single response and went the other way.

I think a lot of kids worry their parents would sneer at the idea of them chasing a singing career. That was never my parents. My mother was always such a wonderful supporter of my dream that I didn't even have to voice it. I remember her taking me as a child to audition for the musical "Oklahoma" and renting the movie to watch it with me so I could learn the music. She took me to concerts that most kids my age would have cared less about, and in doing so, made me a lover of disco music. (My dad has made me a lover of Journey, which is probably another reason I love Glee so much!) Both of my parents showed up for every single performance of my high school musical, which is saying a lot, because we weren't all that super. They believed in the dream maybe more than I ever did.
If I have learned anything from reflecting on my experience, it is that I want to be a parent like mine were. I want to help my children pursue their dreams big and small. But mostly, I want to encourage them to dream big. I want to teach them that the bigger a dream is, the longer it lingers in the back of their mind, and the more imagining themselves living that dream fills them with joy, the bigger duty they have to themselves to chase after it.
I never want their fallback plans to stunt their dreams.

Currently, my daughter wants to be a "princess soldier chef" and my son wants to be a Wiggle and a dinosaur. Dream big, babies. Dream big.

I Cast My Lot

This Army wife stuff is not for the faint of heart.

There are a lot of highs and lows.
A lot of anticipation and a lot of dread.
A lot of unknowns and a lot of "wish I didn't know."
A lot of opportunities to make new friends. A lot of opportunities to be a good friend. A lot of good-byes to people who have become your best friends.
A lot of "hurry up and wait."
A lot of lonely nights. A lot of work calls in the middle of the night.
A lot of "there's no way I can do this" and a lot of "I can't believe I just did that."
A lot of planting roots. A lot of uprooting.
A lot of welcome homes. A lot of watching him go again.
A lot of first kisses.
A lot of loving the Army and a lot of cursing it.
A lot of days spent dreaming about retirement and a lot of days spent fearing it.
A lot of feelings of empowerment and a lot of feelings of helplessness.
A lot of love and war.
A lot of tears: happy and sad.
A lot of trying to make a life outside the Army. A lot of life defined by the Army.

I've decided one of the reasons I am so crazy is due in large part to the fact that my days are so naturally conflicted by the Army lifestyle.
But "I cast my lot in with a soldier," and in doing so, I suppose I chose to soldier through all those "a lots."

18 more days until our next first kiss...

The Twelve Things

A couple of days ago I had a few minutes of down time and didn't feel like doing anything productive with them, (much like the current moment!) so I decided to leaf idly through the pages of a devotional book I had received about two years ago. It's a book about motherhood, and while it is very cutesy I've never had the urge to read it through it before today.
Anyway, as I haphazardly flipped through the pages looking for little quotes to pop out at me, I discovered a challenge in the book to journal twelve things I like about myself and then offer a prayer of thanksgiving for those things and other good things I've received. I closed the book without giving much thought to the challenge right away. But over these 48 hours or so it kept sneaking into my brain.

I like myself. I don't think that is much of a secret. I have no problem sharing my opinions and I am pretty open about my faults and acheivements with whoever chooses to listen. But when you have to get specific, liking yourself gets a lot more difficult. (The list I will share will probably take you about five minutes to read, but it took me much, MUCH longer to compose it.)
I was a little iffy about posting this "why I love me and am so awesome" blog, because blogs are narcissistic enough to begin with, but I chose to share mine today in order to challenge you to do the same thing. I firmly believe that every now and again, there is nothing wrong with being proud of yourself. Lord knows we all give ourselves mental butt whoopings enough to earn the occasional affirmations!
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Twelve Things:

1. I am a good friend. I strive to be a friend I would like to have, and because of this, I feel like I have wound up with some pretty good ones in return.
2. I have a good sense of humor--one that has helped me laugh through hard times and in spite of them.
More importantly, my sense of humor makes happy times even more joyful.
3. I am intelligent. I am proud of the good sense God has given me, even if I don't always use it. I am happy that I have a mind that can question and challenge and solve.
4. I am talented. I write, I cook, I sing, I dance, I create, I run...
I should have my own reality show...just kidding ;)
I may not be the best in any given area but it is very fulfilling to feel capable. I am so thankful for the abilities God has blessed me with.
5. I am a loving mom. Every parent makes his/her share of mistakes, but if your children look at you and know without a doubt that you love them, you must be doing something right.
6. I am a loving wife. And though I often drive my husband completely crazy, as wives are apt to do, I am pretty sure he would vouch for me.
He's one of my favorite gifts.
7. I am a good gift-giver. This kind of goes hand in hand with being a good friend. If you listen closely enough to another person, you can anticipate his/her wants and needs.
(Exception: my husband's first anniversary gift. You will have to ask HIM if you want to hear that story!)
8. I am driven. I have achieved a lot and am not done yet. I am on the never-ending quest for self-improvement, and I believe growing in little and big ways helps to get you there.
9. I am resilient. Sometimes on the road to self-improvement, I've hit a few bumps. Other times, complete dead ends. But I have overcome many obstacles and have bounced back from some pretty big blows.
10. I am encouraging. I truly, truly want the people in my life to win. In all areas.
11. I am fun. If you need someone to look stupid for your amusement, I am your girl.
12. I am imperfect. Which means I have room to improve in all of the areas that I already like myself for--and then some.
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Thanksgiving:

Lord, thank you for my gray hairs
That pop up once in a while
They mark my days of blessings
And sophisticate my style.

Lord, thank you for my crooked teeth
Which help to justify
My daily coffee habit
And my love for good red wine.

Lord, thank you for my sweaty hands
Because as I have come to find
The people who love me the most
Hold tightly and don't mind.

Lord, thank you for my scars
And markings on my skin
Which remind me of my battles won
And of healing from within.

Lord, thank you for my children
Who fight, and yell, and scream
For as I grow my little ones
They're surely growing me.

Lord, thank you for my daughter
Who came to us by surprise
And has shown me what true sacrifice
And love mean through Your eyes.

Lord, thank you for my son--
My stubborn, headstrong boy--
Who even in frustration
Fills my heart with so much joy.

Lord, thank you for my husband
And for letting fools rush in
For in a time of recklessness
I found my truest friend.

Lord, thank you for the interviews
That didn't turn out right.
They've let me re-evaluate
And have shown me where to fight.

Lord, thank you for allowing me
To make my own mistakes.
Because clearly all the falling down
A stronger person makes.