I think the hardest part of being a military spouse is the moving.
*Not the constant separation.
*Not the fear of things you can’t control on the other side of the world.
Yes, those things are incredibly hard. But I don’t think they are the hardest. Somehow, in the wake of those moments, this fighter you never knew you were emerges and you scrap your way through those obstacles. You survive the broken toilets, the single parenting, and the sleepless nights. You form solid friendships that anchor you in your craziest moments, and you build confidence and acceptance in who you are and what you are capable of achieving. When you are reunited after a deployment, you can actually hear the “happily ever after” music playing in your head…
And then he gets reassignment orders...
The funny thing about moving is that, as stressful as it is, it is always exciting at first.
I grew up my whole life in the same city and a large chunk of it in the same house. When I went to college, I was only a few hours’ drive away from home. The prospect of moving all around seemed like an adventure to me. And even though our orders have never been to places that people consider “highly desirable,” I am always happy to move forward into something new. It must be the overly optimistic part of me that does that. (I should really give that part of me a stern talking-to.)
It’s not that I consider it a bad thing to be overly optimistic. It’s actually a wonderful thing to be genuinely happy most all of the time. But I do need to remember not to let that part of me daydream a place into something so impossibly perfect that all it can do is disappoint me when I come back down to reality.
I remember the first time we moved on assignment orders, I had this really naïve notion that I was going to walk right into about six lifelong friendships. (I guess I was watching too many episodes of Army Wives or something, I don’t know---By the way, that show is SO NOT real.) In reality, it took a solid five months before even one person reached out.
I also thought that I would be able to come into a new city and walk right into a job. That didn’t happen either.
I also didn’t live in the house of my dreams. My husband was never home for dinner. And I didn’t know of anyone who could babysit my children so I could go to Roxy’s bar. I literally hated that place for like a year.
And then… I bloomed.
The Army uses the expression “bloom where you’re planted.” I think it’s just a nicer way to say “suck it up and make it better.” One of my friends simply refers to it as “embracing the suck.” However nicely or literally you phrase it, it is still hard to do.
I am no gardener. (In fact, I think I am more like the gardener you should seek out if you want a plant to die.) But I do know that a plant needs three things to bloom: good soil, sunshine, and time.
The first trick to blooming is to pick the right soil to establish your roots in. I am finding that just as soil varies from state to state, so do activities. I can’t “root” myself in the same activities in different places and always expect the same results. Groups that I used to find fulfilling in my old home are not creating the same fuzzy feelings for me here. I haven’t changed, but my environment has.
The good news is that every state has its own hardy state flower. And though they are different from one another, they are all equally beautiful. (And I just know that whatever springs from the soil here will make me equally happy…I just gotta find it!)
Once the roots are established in good soil, the plant needs sunshine to feed it. Just as different plants grow better in different soil, they also require different amounts of sunshine. I like to think sunshine is happiness you get from your outside sources: the people, the scenery, the weather, the local attractions, the food, the shopping, your church, your career (or lack thereof,) the amount of available family time, etc. Sometimes, I need all of these things to feel well fed. Others, I need just a few. If I am being honest, I could use some more sunshine here in the Midwest to keep me going.
Lucky for me, spring is just around the corner—and hopefully a bunch of sunny days are too.
All good things take time. A seed doesn’t bloom overnight. And despite my very best efforts, a home isn’t built in a day. (Trust me, it isn’t built in four months either.) Unfortunately for me, time isn’t exactly on my side in this duty station. But I do intend to make the most of the time I’ve been given.
As much as the over-achiever in me hates to admit it, I will not have it all here.
I will not make a chain of lifelong friendships here. That doesn’t mean that I will be a hermit, but it does mean that I will not beat myself up if month five rolls around and no one has reached out.
I will not reach the level of community involvement that I had in my last home. That does not mean that I will force myself to remain unattached, but it does mean that I will take advantage of the opportunity to focus on my family first and foremost.
In fact, the signs are indicating that I will not actually like this place as much as I loved the one I came from. But I refuse to waste what little time I have wallowing in what I’m missing and wind up missing my chance to bloom. And I really do believe I can bloom here. (I just might need a sprinkling or two of Miracle Grow to help me out a little.)
And whenever I do bloom here, I hope it’s as a bluebonnet…you know, just so people never question where my true roots are found. ;)
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Friday, March 1, 2013
How Flattering
I submitted an article to Blog Brigade about three weeks ago that didn't get selected. C'est la vie. Then, this week, they posted a blog with a near identical premise from one of their regular bloggers. Either I am not as creative as I think I am (which is not so awesome,) or I got BLOG-JACKED! (You know, because my ideas are totally worth copying.) Yes...for my self-esteem as a writer, I will choose to believe the latter.
Regardless, I decided to post my original composition that nobody wanted right here, because I am proud of it. (And considering my family is a one income household with two kids, two vehicles, six separate college degrees and certifications, and ZERO debt, I feel like it is solid advice.)
Just for fun, I attached a link to the one they chose to use this week. Hers is better, maybe. No, hers is definitely better. But she is very welcome for the free access to my awesome idea. ;)
Copycat Blog
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Genius Original Blog:
Saving Tips from a Shopaholic
I’m going to come right out and say it. Even as I write this, I feel a bit silly soliciting financial advice. I am by no means a money expert. If left to my own devices, I can burn through a paycheck faster than you can say “storewide clearance.” In fact, practically every single money lesson I’ve ever learned has been learned the hard way. But hard knocked or not, I have learned. Perhaps my mistakes can help teach you too.
Here are five simple tips to tame the shopaholic in us all.
1.Shop your own stuff first. Move after move, the one thing I am reminded of when I see those boxes strewn about the house is how much stuff I actually have. If you are anything like me, there are about five or six boxes that are never opened from point A to point B…or D. If you find yourself in want of something, start with what you’ve got. Unless you’ve taken a real inventory of what you have, you will never truly know what you need. Now I’m not saying that everything you ever need will magically pop out of those boxes. Occasionally, you will need to get inventive. But that is where our “military wife life” will give us a leg up every now and then. One of the perks of moving all the time means you have mentally and physically rearranged your furniture and décor about a bazillion different ways, so the inventiveness should come naturally to you. Sometimes, finding the perfect piece means that you simply repurpose what you already have. A nightstand can make a perfectly good end table and vice versa. Doesn’t match the room? Break out the spray paint. Same thing works for meal time. Remember what your pantry looked like when you were five days out from clearing a house and you refused to do a big grocery store shop? That’s when the “Iron Chef “in all of us comes out. I amazed myself with what I could do with five manicotti noodles and some buffalo sauce. (Sounds gross here, but I promise it was good!) Explore your options with what you’ve got first, and you can save some big dough.
2.Know what you need. I used to be a list-free shopper. Thinking back on it now, I don’t know how I did that. But I do know I would wander the grocery store in search of food and come home with spaghetti sauce and no noodles. The magic of a list is that it not only keeps you from the frustration of forgetting those spaghetti noodles, but it also gives you a visual plan of what you are going to buy (and spend) before you even go shopping. The more specific your list is, the better. On more than one occasion, the sheer length of my list has led me to cross off items that weren’t truly necessary and has saved me some money in the process.
3.Stick to the list! If it is not on your list, don’t buy it! If I had a nickel for every time I got sucked into that shiny dollar section near the checkout aisle at the superstore…I would still be missing 95 cents of the dollar I spent and didn’t need to. Be wary of those impulse buys. Just like stores keep light up, whirling candy sticks at the side of the checkout counter to lure children, they strategically place discount bins full of pretty junk for momma to peruse. Step away from the shiny things. Your wallet will thank you.
4.Sometimes sales don’t help you save. I love clearance sections too much. While I think that buying most things at regular price is foolish, I also know that shopping the clearance aisle haphazardly can be just as foolish. I don’t want to tell you exactly how many times I have come home with 4 or 5 items I didn’t really need just because they “were such a great deal.” My favorite part of getting the receipt after shopping at any store is looking at the bottom where it says in big, bold letters “YOU SAVED $xxxxx ON THIS TRIP.” It briefly postpones the pang you feel when you look at the tiny printed section marked “Total” directly above it. I am not suggesting that you should pass on every deal you see. My point is that markdowns like these can make you lose your self-control and focus. Make the discounts work for you. Get one great deal on the one item you actually need and avoid stockpiling items there is no earthly way you can store, let alone use. Put frankly, if you buy something you wouldn’t necessarily buy just because it is discounted or you have a coupon for it, you just wasted money instead of saving it. (I am still waiting on this lesson to sink in, myself. The discount shopper in me is in denial!)
5.Shop around. The way I see it, the Internet can either be a blessing or a curse for the shopaholic. It can easily become the source of product overload or lust if you are shopping out of sheer boredom. However, it can also be a wonderful resource for researching big ticket items before you buy them. When using the Internet for the latter purpose, take into consideration all of the following: Is there a military discount offered if you purchase in store? Are there deals available to help offset/eliminate the cost of shipping? Is the item tax free? (And is there a similar item available on post that would be tax free?) Are there any printable coupons/coupon codes online? Spending the extra time to research all of your options before you buy can save you bookoos come checkout time…and possibly earn you a little wiggle room in your wallet to score the item that caught your eye when you were shopping out of boredom. (Just saying.)
Happy shopping, everyone!
Regardless, I decided to post my original composition that nobody wanted right here, because I am proud of it. (And considering my family is a one income household with two kids, two vehicles, six separate college degrees and certifications, and ZERO debt, I feel like it is solid advice.)
Just for fun, I attached a link to the one they chose to use this week. Hers is better, maybe. No, hers is definitely better. But she is very welcome for the free access to my awesome idea. ;)
Copycat Blog
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Genius Original Blog:
Saving Tips from a Shopaholic
I’m going to come right out and say it. Even as I write this, I feel a bit silly soliciting financial advice. I am by no means a money expert. If left to my own devices, I can burn through a paycheck faster than you can say “storewide clearance.” In fact, practically every single money lesson I’ve ever learned has been learned the hard way. But hard knocked or not, I have learned. Perhaps my mistakes can help teach you too.
Here are five simple tips to tame the shopaholic in us all.
1.Shop your own stuff first. Move after move, the one thing I am reminded of when I see those boxes strewn about the house is how much stuff I actually have. If you are anything like me, there are about five or six boxes that are never opened from point A to point B…or D. If you find yourself in want of something, start with what you’ve got. Unless you’ve taken a real inventory of what you have, you will never truly know what you need. Now I’m not saying that everything you ever need will magically pop out of those boxes. Occasionally, you will need to get inventive. But that is where our “military wife life” will give us a leg up every now and then. One of the perks of moving all the time means you have mentally and physically rearranged your furniture and décor about a bazillion different ways, so the inventiveness should come naturally to you. Sometimes, finding the perfect piece means that you simply repurpose what you already have. A nightstand can make a perfectly good end table and vice versa. Doesn’t match the room? Break out the spray paint. Same thing works for meal time. Remember what your pantry looked like when you were five days out from clearing a house and you refused to do a big grocery store shop? That’s when the “Iron Chef “in all of us comes out. I amazed myself with what I could do with five manicotti noodles and some buffalo sauce. (Sounds gross here, but I promise it was good!) Explore your options with what you’ve got first, and you can save some big dough.
2.Know what you need. I used to be a list-free shopper. Thinking back on it now, I don’t know how I did that. But I do know I would wander the grocery store in search of food and come home with spaghetti sauce and no noodles. The magic of a list is that it not only keeps you from the frustration of forgetting those spaghetti noodles, but it also gives you a visual plan of what you are going to buy (and spend) before you even go shopping. The more specific your list is, the better. On more than one occasion, the sheer length of my list has led me to cross off items that weren’t truly necessary and has saved me some money in the process.
3.Stick to the list! If it is not on your list, don’t buy it! If I had a nickel for every time I got sucked into that shiny dollar section near the checkout aisle at the superstore…I would still be missing 95 cents of the dollar I spent and didn’t need to. Be wary of those impulse buys. Just like stores keep light up, whirling candy sticks at the side of the checkout counter to lure children, they strategically place discount bins full of pretty junk for momma to peruse. Step away from the shiny things. Your wallet will thank you.
4.Sometimes sales don’t help you save. I love clearance sections too much. While I think that buying most things at regular price is foolish, I also know that shopping the clearance aisle haphazardly can be just as foolish. I don’t want to tell you exactly how many times I have come home with 4 or 5 items I didn’t really need just because they “were such a great deal.” My favorite part of getting the receipt after shopping at any store is looking at the bottom where it says in big, bold letters “YOU SAVED $xxxxx ON THIS TRIP.” It briefly postpones the pang you feel when you look at the tiny printed section marked “Total” directly above it. I am not suggesting that you should pass on every deal you see. My point is that markdowns like these can make you lose your self-control and focus. Make the discounts work for you. Get one great deal on the one item you actually need and avoid stockpiling items there is no earthly way you can store, let alone use. Put frankly, if you buy something you wouldn’t necessarily buy just because it is discounted or you have a coupon for it, you just wasted money instead of saving it. (I am still waiting on this lesson to sink in, myself. The discount shopper in me is in denial!)
5.Shop around. The way I see it, the Internet can either be a blessing or a curse for the shopaholic. It can easily become the source of product overload or lust if you are shopping out of sheer boredom. However, it can also be a wonderful resource for researching big ticket items before you buy them. When using the Internet for the latter purpose, take into consideration all of the following: Is there a military discount offered if you purchase in store? Are there deals available to help offset/eliminate the cost of shipping? Is the item tax free? (And is there a similar item available on post that would be tax free?) Are there any printable coupons/coupon codes online? Spending the extra time to research all of your options before you buy can save you bookoos come checkout time…and possibly earn you a little wiggle room in your wallet to score the item that caught your eye when you were shopping out of boredom. (Just saying.)
Happy shopping, everyone!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Wild Angels
Yesterday I put a hypothetical foot in my mouth via Facebook. I always hate it when people tell half a story on that thing. You should either be comfortable sharing all of it or not tell us any of it, right?
Well, I became guilty of vaguebooking. I didn't say anything, really. But I did say just enough to worry a lot of people. And since I like to reserve Facebook strictly for use of posting big life announcements and sarcastic/witty nonsense, the place it seems most appropriate to share my story is this blog. Let's face it-- much to my husband's dismay, I am pretty much an open book on here. Even so, this will probably be the most difficult thing I share. But I have to write it out, or it just won't go away. The cheap therapy of blogging is a blessing and a curse that way, I guess.
Anyway, here it goes...
Yesterday we received about three inches of a rain/snow mixture. Roughly translated, that means it iced on us. When we were moving to Missouri, one of the selling points we used with our kids was that it would snow a lot here. We bought them snow pants and snow boots and got them all excited. It hasn't actually snowed a single inch since we moved here. All we get is crusty ice. Nevertheless, the kids have been promised fun times sledding in the backyard snow. And since almost all of the ground was covered in white, we figured we'd let them go for it.
I did a quick survey of the yards in front and back and decided I felt comfortable with them doing a teeny tiny slope in our front yard. The backyard hills were bigger, but I was afraid they would crash into our neighbors back fence and get hurt. This bunny hill in the front wouldn't be as exciting, but they would be safe...or so I thought...
After about thirty runs, (each only lasted about five seconds,) my two-year-old climbed onto his sled and started down the piddly hill. Normally he veered off right and leveled out between our neighbor's house and ours. This time, he must have hit a patch that kept him running straight. At first, we were laughing. What fun to be on a sled for seven seconds instead of five! But as I watched him barrel through the gap in our neighbor's hedges, it suddenly wasn't so funny anymore.
I screamed his name and started chasing after him. My husband, who had been shoveling the walkways while we played, was right behind me. Our dog was right behind him. About 40 yards from our house on the other side of the neighbor's is a draw with a dangerous drop-off. I can't tell you with confidence how far it goes down. I guess it never really mattered much until yesterday. What matters is that my son sledded over the neighbor's hedges, across their driveway, out into the street, and straight down that draw.
My husband and dog dove after him and I fell straight to my knees. One of the neighbors had run out at this point to help us. She kept asking if she needed to call 9-1-1. And then, I heard my little boy cry. It was the most beautiful noise...like that moment of relief you get after you give birth to your child and he cries. It lets you know he is alright.
After a quick assessment we learned that, no, we did not need to call 9-1-1. My little man had fallen 15 feet down the draw and walked away without a scratch. (His mother is, admittedly, not in as great of condition. But better me than him any day, right moms?)
Why do I share this horrific peek into my awful parenting tactics with you? It's to let you know that even in this crazy world, there are still miracles happening.
My two year old miraculously held onto a sled down a 15 ft drop. That stupid, plastic disc of death is what protected his little body from the rocks and trees down the draw. My little man miraculously avoided all of the pines and rocks as he fell into the draw and his sled was slowed to a stop by a small grouping of saplings just barely peeping out above the ice. My little boy literally fell off the side of a cliff and miraculously walked away without a scratch.
If you know me at all, hopefully you know I'm a believer. But I will admit, I have seen a lot of horrible things happen in this world and wondered "where are you, God?" Yesterday, when I lost sight of my son over the draw and I hit my knees, I know where God was. He was holding my baby boy.
So there you have it. That's what all the vagueness was about.
Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Psalm 121:7-8 The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. 8 The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.
Now go kiss your babies.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As a happy after-note: Red (a.k.a. the Wonder Dog,) for his courageous acts of valor and selflessness, shall be rewarded a lot more indoor time, table food, and belly scratches. Good boy, Red.
Well, I became guilty of vaguebooking. I didn't say anything, really. But I did say just enough to worry a lot of people. And since I like to reserve Facebook strictly for use of posting big life announcements and sarcastic/witty nonsense, the place it seems most appropriate to share my story is this blog. Let's face it-- much to my husband's dismay, I am pretty much an open book on here. Even so, this will probably be the most difficult thing I share. But I have to write it out, or it just won't go away. The cheap therapy of blogging is a blessing and a curse that way, I guess.
Anyway, here it goes...
Yesterday we received about three inches of a rain/snow mixture. Roughly translated, that means it iced on us. When we were moving to Missouri, one of the selling points we used with our kids was that it would snow a lot here. We bought them snow pants and snow boots and got them all excited. It hasn't actually snowed a single inch since we moved here. All we get is crusty ice. Nevertheless, the kids have been promised fun times sledding in the backyard snow. And since almost all of the ground was covered in white, we figured we'd let them go for it.
I did a quick survey of the yards in front and back and decided I felt comfortable with them doing a teeny tiny slope in our front yard. The backyard hills were bigger, but I was afraid they would crash into our neighbors back fence and get hurt. This bunny hill in the front wouldn't be as exciting, but they would be safe...or so I thought...
After about thirty runs, (each only lasted about five seconds,) my two-year-old climbed onto his sled and started down the piddly hill. Normally he veered off right and leveled out between our neighbor's house and ours. This time, he must have hit a patch that kept him running straight. At first, we were laughing. What fun to be on a sled for seven seconds instead of five! But as I watched him barrel through the gap in our neighbor's hedges, it suddenly wasn't so funny anymore.
I screamed his name and started chasing after him. My husband, who had been shoveling the walkways while we played, was right behind me. Our dog was right behind him. About 40 yards from our house on the other side of the neighbor's is a draw with a dangerous drop-off. I can't tell you with confidence how far it goes down. I guess it never really mattered much until yesterday. What matters is that my son sledded over the neighbor's hedges, across their driveway, out into the street, and straight down that draw.
My husband and dog dove after him and I fell straight to my knees. One of the neighbors had run out at this point to help us. She kept asking if she needed to call 9-1-1. And then, I heard my little boy cry. It was the most beautiful noise...like that moment of relief you get after you give birth to your child and he cries. It lets you know he is alright.
After a quick assessment we learned that, no, we did not need to call 9-1-1. My little man had fallen 15 feet down the draw and walked away without a scratch. (His mother is, admittedly, not in as great of condition. But better me than him any day, right moms?)
Why do I share this horrific peek into my awful parenting tactics with you? It's to let you know that even in this crazy world, there are still miracles happening.
My two year old miraculously held onto a sled down a 15 ft drop. That stupid, plastic disc of death is what protected his little body from the rocks and trees down the draw. My little man miraculously avoided all of the pines and rocks as he fell into the draw and his sled was slowed to a stop by a small grouping of saplings just barely peeping out above the ice. My little boy literally fell off the side of a cliff and miraculously walked away without a scratch.
If you know me at all, hopefully you know I'm a believer. But I will admit, I have seen a lot of horrible things happen in this world and wondered "where are you, God?" Yesterday, when I lost sight of my son over the draw and I hit my knees, I know where God was. He was holding my baby boy.
So there you have it. That's what all the vagueness was about.
Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Psalm 121:7-8 The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. 8 The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.
Now go kiss your babies.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As a happy after-note: Red (a.k.a. the Wonder Dog,) for his courageous acts of valor and selflessness, shall be rewarded a lot more indoor time, table food, and belly scratches. Good boy, Red.
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