HOOAH

Before Kurt and I were dating I used to say, “I could NEVER be an Army wife”.  The day we reconnected (we met when we were 15/16) he had been down at the MEPS  in St. Louis signing his life away but perhaps by divine intervention he didn’t that day.  If he had I wouldn’t have stuck around, I wasn’t emotionally invested yet.  Kurt didn’t join the Army till we had been married just over a year.

People say things to me all the time like, “I don’t know how you do it.”  I don’t think I have ever thought to myself, “I can’t do this life” now that I am in it.  Don’t get me wrong, when your husband is deployed and you have three vomiting children as well as yourself it’s rough.  There is no one to take care of you and no one (except your mom) would be willing to set foot in your house which should be covered with biohazard tape and waste basins.  I assure you, your husband working overtime or going on a brief business trip is not the same. We do things like take care of our kids all day have to take all of them to the grocery store (or the dreaded post office) , sometimes during naptime, mow the grass or find someone to, take the car to get serviced, figure out what that weird noise is out back and take everyone to the Emergency room or Urgent Care for the kid with bronchitis because…we don’t have a choice. But that is okay, we chose to marry our soldier or supported him joining the military.

In fact, the military has come a long way from how it used to be for wives.  We get phone calls, emails, and sometimes even webcam dates! We don't have to sit around and wait for weeks or months for a letter from our husband...or a telegram bringing devastating news. Military bases are like mini cities, we have a hospital, schools, grocery store, gas stations, pools, gyms, a movie theatre, churches...the list goes on and on.

There are four basic cons I find about Army life for myself:

1)      Your husband deploys, sometimes for long periods of time and is in imminent danger.

2)      Often times you don’t live anywhere near your family.

3)      You move a lot, which means you say goodbye a lot.

4)      Commissary baggers (only an military wife will get this one)

However, I don’t hate my life.  It is a steady paycheck that keeps a roof over my head and food on my table and in my kids bellies. You may not have family close but you forge amazing friendships with people you come to know as your military family. They do things for you like go buy you Gatorade and Sprite when everyone is sick, come to the hospital to comfort you when your husband is in Afghanistan and you got some disheartening news, watch your kids when you have a need and don’t bat an eye to feed them and furthermore refuse any monetary compensation.  Our healthcare doesn’t cost us anything (well, sometimes time and aggravation), it also covers just about anything you can imagine. When you travel through an airport wonderful people come up and tell you, “Thank you for serving” and sometimes you even get a free meal out of the deal! And last but not least, the pride that comes from saying, “I am an Army wife. A lot of the time I am just like a single parent but I am proud my husband wears that uniform. He believes we can do good.”

I miss my family and friends back home. I miss the friends I have had to tell goodbye and know I will not likely cross paths with again. However, I like my life and am proud of my husband. HOOAH baby.

How miscarriage is turning me into a Mary and making me a better mom.

A brief glimpse into my history for anyone reading this so you can have a better understanding. This is just me putting my thoughts out there.   I have three amazing, fabulous children.  I have had four miscarriages, including one at 11 weeks and one at 14 weeks.  The most recent, at 14 weeks, was a baby we had tried for, seen moving on the ultrasound and heard the little heartbeat.  What a precious sound.

The tremendous blessing that my kids are to me was in no way lost on me following any of my pregnancy losses. I enjoyed being pregnant, 90% of the time.  We felt that adding more children to our family could only increase the love we have. By the way, after someone has a miscarriage the #1 thing NOT to say is, “At least you have other children to be grateful for”. It is almost as if you are telling us we should feel guilty for feeling sad and grieving over this child we already loved and couldn’t wait to meet.

But, I digress, I have never felt more grateful for my children than in the last 4-1/2 months.  If I never get to be blessed with another I thank God for the three he gave me.  What amazing little people He entrusted to my care.  They love me even when I can’t find their matching socks and even after I forget to put their favorite snack in their picnic lunch.  And, even after they get in trouble are require some level of discipline.  I believe I am learning more from my kids than they from me sometimes. I have begun to even more treasure the reading books time, playing hide and seek (there are few things funnier than jumping out and scaring your kids!), and even the mid-night snuggle sessions.  I hope they never grow up.  I am learning to have more patience (it’s true), appreciate Claire’s unending hilarious stories, being the Decepticons so Quinn can be the good guys , and making Grant laugh till he’s out of breath (despite that  I am out of breath too).  It is making me work harder to be the kind of parent I hope they grow up to be.  It is inspiring me to be the kind of mother that in 20 years they are filled with wonderful, happy memories. Memories of their imperfect but homemade superhero capes, eating cookie cutter sandwiches, picnicking in the living room when it’s raining, getting to sleep in the middle when they need me and getting to splash in those puddles (even though their socks get wet!).

Yes, if there is a ray of light it is that I am even more inspired to be the best mom I can be and soak up this precious time.  It is realizing that playing checkers or reading Fancy Nancy or even doing my Elmo impression repeatedly is more important than stressing out over the never-ending laundry, sweeping and dishes piling up than putting off my kids. Yes, this experience is helping to mold me into a Mary.