Regularly, while reading Mrs. Alana’s posts, I feel old. Okay, not old, maybe, but like an old married person . Which I am not.  10 years does not even get props for married shelf-life when you consider how long many people out there have been married.  I have lots of friends with 25, 35 or 50 years behind them, who are still looking forward to more. But reading her adorable newlywed blog, it can seem like I’ve been married FOREVER.  And not even in that bad kind of ‘ohmygoodness will it ever stop‘ forever, but just the comfortable, happy, wouldn’t have it any other way kind of forever. So, she inspires me.  And then I end up writing posts like this. Every day, every year for well, even longer than the 10 1/2 years we have been married,  Love is something different. Love is…   ~dropping you at the airport when you only just got home a few days ago.  Cause it’s what we do. ~capable of taking place over thousands of miles.  Sometimes, it seems harder in the same house. ~shutting up even when you (or I. Mostly I, but sometimes you) deserve the last word. ~striving to make a change in myself because you inspired me by how you loved me first and never asked me to change at all.  Even when I needed to. ~not a feeling, some days, but an actual, conscious decision.   ~wishing you were here. ~being proud of the reasons you are gone. ~surprising me by walking in the door 3 days early and not complaining that the house looks like I let the kids live in it alone. ~having to call me at 5 a.m. and starting the call with…

I am not organized. In fact, I may be the opposite of organized. One of my blog-friends had posted this link to a cool way to organize jewelry (of which I have a ridiculous amount.  3 tours in the middle east really  increases your jewelry supply).  It was genius!  I was going to do it!  It would be amazing! I went to the store.  I got a vase from the dollar store and some stones for inside.  Then I couldn’t find any s hooks.  Then I broke the vase coming in the front door…… sigh.  I still haven’t found s hooks.  My necklaces are doomed to a life of tangled neglect. That pretty much sums up my organizational skills. So when I realized after the first day of school that I now have 3 kids in school, which means 3 backpacks, 3 lunch kits, 3 take-home folders, 3 agendas and 3 sets of classroom newsletters and field-trip forms and  teacher letters….. Well, I almost lost my mind. And in my head, I heard already “mom, where’s my agenda?  Did you sign it?  Where did you put it?  I need my field-trip permission signed today.  Where’s my hot lunch money?  Did you log my reading minutes?”  And so on.  And so forth. Until they’d be asking me these things from the telephone in between them and my cell at the forensic psych ward. Looking at their backpacks in the front entrance every day for the next 40-some weeks did not appeal to me.  We have a really small front closet and no…

Sometime last month in our kitchen, this conversation took place… “Hey babe, they are asking if I want to go on *Insert bad-ass GI JOE sounding name* Course in October.” “Sounds like fun.” “I would be leaving the day after I get home from fall training ex.” “mhmm” “I runs almost 2 months” “mhmm” “It means I’d be gone for about 10 weeks this fall.” “mhmm” “So…. what do you think?” “I think it sounds exactly like something you would like to do.” “It is.” “So I think you should go ahead and do it while you have the opportunity.  It’s just 10 weeks.” “Really?  I love you.  You are the best wife ever.  Truly.  I should buy you shiny things and do the laundry more often.” (Warning… final sentence is interpreted as what I heard, not necessarily what was said.) So yesterday and today, as it looked like the Army threw up in our living room, as kit was packed and all those little notebook thingies were written, I realized that in about 10 days, someone will need to remind me of my absolute coolness as  wife.  So I put it here for you, so you may read my ‘ugh this sucks’ post that I am sure will be coming in a month or so… ..lets not kid ourselves, by 10 a.m. tomorrow… ..and remind me that I said, “Sure babe. That sounds like a great opportunity.  I know you don’t HAVE to (this time) but I think you…

There are some things I don’t ever think about. Like when I get groceries then stop on my way home to run 500 other errands and forget about the groceries.  And forget (probably because where I live it’s below 0 so many frickin days of the year) that it’s warm out and the milk might not last.  And the frozen’s are no longer.  I am constantly forgetting that. But more importantly, I very rarely think through worse case scenarios. Last week a friend of ours got the news that a family member was hurt in an accident that paralyzed him from the chest down.  He is still in ICU, but not expected to ever walk or move his hands again. And I started thinking about what a TERRIBLE wife I would be if faced with something like that.  But I very quickly stopped thinking about it because, well, it’s kinda a crappy thing to think about.  So I focused on making them food (cause well, that’s what I do when I don’t know what to do).  Then this morning I opened my blogger to this post by the Unlikely Wife. And my heart stopped for a moment, like it does whenever I read something like that. She called it the “Second Worse Nightmare“. Twice in one week I was seeing someone facing the reality of their husband having suffered a catastrophic injury. And I wrote her something that offers her nothing, because really, what can you write that would ease any of her hurts right now?  Then I went about my day thinking – I might just be selfish enough that it would be my 1st…

What does it mean to have a 9 year old? It means that 9 years ago, Freckles entered the world.  (You can read about that here) It means that in order to be his biological mother, there is no more pretending I am 21. It means milestones like sitting for the first time…. Standing for the first time… That adorable ‘wounded soldier’ crawl… And finally learning to walk… Have all been reached. He’s been potty trained.  He’s mastered cutlery and he’s done the first day of the first year of school He’s lost his first teeth, he’s learned to make his own KD and he’s conqured the TV remote. He was born days after his dad’s first deployment ended and he’s seen him off on 2 more in his lifetime. He’s held both his siblings right after they were born   Having a nine year old means a lot. It means I have to actually remember that he can hear AND understand me if I talk when he is in earshot.  And he will remember and possibly repeat what he heard me say. It means I have 3 more years before I have a live-in babysitter. It means for the first time, that Kid Kamp shirt that only comes in one size per age group that goes to his elbows and knees embarassed him enough that it meant I spent my night hemming so he didn’t feel like he was too small. It means he is able and more than willing to defend his siblings and his family.   It means the hero worship he has for his dad…

So while I am still on vacation, Aleisha over at Mama Leisha wrote me a guest post!  I am so spoiled with awesome writers doing this for me, I have no idea what I’m going to do when I have to start doing it myself again! Her blog is hilarious and awesome, so go check it out when you are done here!    Here’s a li’l something about Aleisha:  “I’m a thirty-something stay-at-home mama to a zany and hilarious four-year-old (Ms. Lilly) and to a dreamboat baby boy (Cam Man.) I have an English degree from Utah State University and I LOVE to write. I recently won first place (in a short story category) in a national literature competition. (What an HONOR for me!!) I’m an avid reader–you’ll always find me with my nose stuck in a book! I love to travel. I love shoes, lipstick, picnics, biking, cheeseburgers, poetry, bubble baths, pizza, music, nail polish, Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream, crafting, gardening, shoes (did I mention I love shoes?) and OF COURSE, I LOVE being a mom. It’s a tough gig, but also one of the coolest things I’ve had the opportunity to do. I love reaching out and supporting and uplifting other moms (hey, we’re all in this together), and I sincerely hope I am able to do that with my blog. My secret for when the days get rough (or monotonous): DIET COKE…and a chocolate chip cookie. Or a doughnut. A cinnamon roll works too!” http://callmemamaleisha.blogspot.com/ “I Heart Art” For as long as I live, I will never forget the…

So.  Today my post is at Wives of Faith.  And scheduled since I am still vacationing it up. I read a little while ago a bunch of posts about the chasm of understanding (or lack thereof) between the military and civilian community.  Things might be different between Canada and the States, but we certainly have the same disconnect between the military and general population. But it made me think a lot about what it was exactly we were expecting from the non-military types.  Support?  Encouragement?  Free babysitting and total admiration?  Okay, I know none of us say we want that last one, but is that really what we are always hoping for? It always makes me a little sad when my civilian friends comment that they don’t want to complain to me about their husbands overnight business trip or the time they have to spend apart for oilfield work because they figure I won’t have sympathy. I do!  I think all time apart sucks.  Sure, if you want to act like I have no idea how bad you have it, or get all overly dramatic about it I might roll my eyes a little, but for the most part I think we all have different struggles and comparing them in some sick ‘mine is bigger than yours’ competition is not what friendship is about. Because we (and by we, I mostly me I) run the risk as a military blogging community of making it more about hating the civilian community for not understanding instead of using our shared bond to support and encourage each other.  And once we go there, it’s not long before we start turning on each other, saying…

So, Andrea over at The Travels of A Wandering Mind agreed to fill my space over my vacation.  And I am super excited, because she is awesome at it!  So read what she thinks about Canada, and then head on over and check her out! Why I Love Canada 1. Kim– How could you not love her! Although I have never met her in person, I feel like she is my friend. She is the first blog friend I met and I’m glad I did for several reasons. I will just list one though. She is a military wife. Of course we here in America have military personnel as well, but they all seem so far removed from my day life. Some days I even forget there are men and women sacrificing their significant parts of their lives for my freedom and safety. It is good to hear an insider what it’s like. It is an excellent reminder of how blessed I am to live where I do and the way I do. 2. Hockey– I do live in North Carolina, but I’m originally from Illinois. Hockey is “USA” big there. Not like in Canada, but it is popular by US standards. I love this fast paced sport for talented individuals. Some in the US say it is too confusing. I think they just need to pay attention. I love how whole-heartedly Canada gives itself to this sport. I have a t-shirt that says, Hockey is Canada on the front and Canada is Hockey on the back. It was a Team Canada shirt from an Olympics. This seems to be the best catchphrase. I am never upset to see Canada win international tournaments. You guys created…