Really Tough

Never in a parent’s life do they want to admit that there is something “wrong” with their child.  Why would you want to admit to that?  That could imply blame on you, as the parent, in the way you are raising your child.  Who wants that?  But sometimes, just sometimes a parent must face facts and admit that some help is needed.  Everyone, especially the child, is better for getting that needed help. 

My son needs a helmet to re-shape his head.  They are called cranial re-shaping helmets.  Ian developed a flat spot at four or five weeks old.  I knew that he would need to have something done, but since we were moving from Offutt AFB to Ft. Bragg, I didn't press the issue.  Once we got to Ft. Bragg, Ian was assigned a new doctor and we started to monitor the shape of his head.  I was asked to wait until he got a little older so x-rays could be done.  Since the x-rays showed no sign of skull damage, we were asked to wait until he turned twelve months old.  His doctor hoped that this would correct on it's own and that a helmet would not be needed.  I played the game and waited.  All this time, Ian is growing, of course.  That’s what babies do…they grow.   Ian was finally given a consult to see a very nice doctor off post; however, it took us seven weeks to get an appt.  Time is not on our side and from the research that I’ve been doing Ian needed the helmet when he was six months old.   

Now my son is fourteen months old, and he is finally wearing his cranial re-shaping helmet.  I can see a slight difference already.  We were fortunate that his head has started to round out in the last few months, so he’ll only be in this helmet for three or four months.  I am thankful for many things, but I mostly I am thankful for my tenacity.  I would not give up on getting my son the needed helmet and healthcare that he deserves.  

This has not been an easy decision to put Ian in this helmet.  First, Tricare does not cover this.  We are paying out of pocket for something that is incredibly expensive.  Second, I have to wonder, as a mother, if there was something I could have done differently.  Should I have held him in a different position, should I have forced a screaming infant into doing more “Tummy Time?”  Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda, are words I really don’t like and here’s the reason why.  This expense is a drop in the bucket of what Ian will need in his lifetime.  He’s my son which means, I should do whatever I can to make sure he’s healthy and happy.  To answer the second question, no I couldn’t have done anything different.  Tummy Time is great, but it’s not a cure all.  I held Ian the best way for him to know that he is loved more than anything on the planet.  So no, I couldn’t have done anything different. 

So, why am I so sad about this helmet?   I believe I discovered the answer today when I was brushing my teeth as my sweet boy came toddling over to me with his little helmet on.  I am not interested in him being ridiculed.  I was hoping to keep that away from him for a little while longer.  Do you know how hard it will be to see people staring at him, pointing, whispering, making comments, being rude, or being plain old awful?  My perfect little boy, my sweet son, will be the object of some really lousy jokes for people.  And that makes my heart break.  Already we are enduring comments from Jeremy’s co-workers.  They are actually attacking me as a mother, making fun of the helmet, and being nasty in general. 

I wonder if people ever stop to think about how hard decisions like this one are for parents.  Why would any parent want to put their child through something that will make them the objects of someone’s sick joke?  Do you think that I enjoy seeing people stare at him?  Do you think this is fun for me to explain why he needs this helmet?   Tonight when I held my son in my arms, and he placed his head on my chest for his goodnight hug, I couldn't smell his freshly cleaned hair; I could only smell the plastic of that helmet.  I had to choke back tears.  So badly, I want to remove that helmet and kiss the top of his sweet head and tell him that I love him and that I’m sorry. 

Why is different something to be ridiculed?  Why do I want to just hide inside my house so no one will see Ian?  I know there are more good people than bad people, but I am not sure I am strong enough to take the high road if anything is said.  I am not sure if I can be the better person only because I don’t know if I want to be the better person.  I would love for someone to say something to me about Ian’s helmet.  I am actually looking for the fight.  I am ready to fight with ferocity worse than a lioness.  Ian is my baby, and as his mother I must protect him.  For those of you that wish to continue on your path of being the spineless, ugly, asshole…go ahead.   Remember, you’re the jackass making fun of a baby, and the mother that’s trying to ensure his good health.  Who’s the asshole in that situation?  

A Letter From Daddy...A Renewed Heart

“Dear Ian,

     I’m sorry I can’t be there for your birthday.  I wish I could be there with you and your mother.  You’ll have no idea how much it hurts not seeing you everyday , not being able to see you grow these past few months.  The only good thing about this is you won’t remember this time apart or understand what’s going on.  When you’re older and read this, know that I think of you and your mother every day.  You two are the world to me and even though I may have to go away sometimes, know that I love you and cannot wait to get back to you. 

Love, Daddy”

This letter came a few days after Ian’s first birthday.  I had to read it alone because I cried.  I read it to Ian twice.  Every time you ask him about Daddy, he gets excited, smiles, and looks at a computer.  I’m sad that he thinks that’s where or what Daddy is, but I’m grateful that he remembers. 

Our time is coming to an end; well our current chapter of insanity is coming to an end, and we will begin a new chapter in our lives.  Ian and I are finally moving into our home, Jeremy will be home soonish, and I will start looking for a job.  I will continue volunteering and being the best mother that I can be.  I will try not to worry so much about Ian or buck the system all the time.  I will make and break promises to myself every single day.  But the only promise that I care about is to be good to my family and provide stability in an unstable world. 

I have hope and faith again.  I feel wonderful and our stress seems to be going away.  Yes, this chapter of “Tornado Victim” is almost at an end.  I know new stresses will come my way.  I will feel full of despair at times, and I will have to remind myself that this will all go away and be a distant memory. 

Thank you Jeremy for your wonderful letter to our son.  This time will never even register in his life and that’s okay.  We remember and we love him and are better for everything that has happened. 

I Had No Idea

I Had No Idea

Today is my son’s birthday.  He’s a year old.  He looks so different, but still seems the same to me. I know he’s changed because he would.  He’s a year old and of course he’s changed.  Yet in that small, darkest part of your heart…the place where your deepest secrets are hidden, he is still that little boy that was placed in my arms a year ago.  He is my Ian and he is my baby. 

They really are your babies…forever.  I can see him now as a grown man, but yet will still see him this way. 

Seven years ago I met a guy whose name is Jeremy and I feel in love with him.  I had no idea that he would change my world.  You see, I didn’t want to marry again or ever have children.  He was different.  He made me feel as if I could do anything and not only that…he made me laugh…all the time.  Fourteen months after we started dating, we were married. We stayed married for a while before we had Ian.  There was a move halfway across the world, a knee surgery, a deployment to Iraq, something that always seemed to get in the way of us having Ian.  Finally, Jeremy was home and the stars aligned.   I had baby fever so badly.  If Jeremy didn’t get me pregnant when he came home from Iraq, then I would find Matt Damon and have his children.  On Christmas Eve 2009 we found out that I was pregnant.  I can honestly write this and mean it; Ian is the best present ever. 

This past year though has been insane.  Our Ian came home and eight weeks later we were moving.  Our little one was used to one place and going to another so soon.  We came to NC and had a house that needed so much work to make it our home, but it turned out to be a good home for us.  Ian was happy and that made me happy.  Jeremy was happy and so was I.  Our family was doing well and we were enjoying our life together.   Yes, we were having some hardships, but somehow our lives together were good, and Ian became the center of our world. 

In April we had a string of bad luck that hasn’t really ended.  Jeremy was deploying, I have a hernia, and we lost our rental home to a tornado.  I had to move in with my mother and say goodbye to my husband.  I held our son so close that day Jeremy left that I was worried I would squeeze him.  Ian became my world.  He needs me to be both mommy and daddy.  I wanted Ian to be as happy as he could be.  It’s my job as his parent to shield that tension from him.  I feel that so far I’ve done a pretty good job with that. 

For months it’s been a hard time, but through it all I’ve had my Ian.  He is the light of my life.  Like his father, Ian is my everything. 

I had no idea that I would love my life this much.  It’s a life I never planned for, but I wouldn’t change a thing about it.  Happy birthday my sweet boy.  I love you Ian.  I love you so much.  My birthday wish for you is to know love, happiness, friendship, kindness, and faith.  May you wake up each day full of hope and joy, and may you get to see your father soon.  We love you little one.  We love you more than you will ever know.  

What is Freedom?

Facebook has become part of the American way.  People are serious addicts and post every single detail of their lives on it.  So it’s odd when statuses actually make me inspired enough to blog. 

“On this Independence Day, remember...The American flag does not fly because the wind moves past it. The American flag flies from the last breath of each military member who has died protecting it. American soldiers don't fight because they hate what's in front of them...they fight because they love what's behind them." Re-Post this if you support our troops! 

The people that asserted our independence were not military.  They were farmers, politicians, plantation owners, lawyers, doctors, businessmen, pacifists, husbands, and fathers.  These were people that knew we were at a stalemate and could no longer continue on the path that our country was on.  Well, not all of them felt that way.  To be honest, no one really wants war.  The loss of life, the causalities, and the despair that come from war should ALWAYS be a last resort.  These things did weigh heavily on the minds of our founders.  After the Boston Massacre, the Edenton Tea Party and the Boston Tea Party, the invasions into our homes, the taxation, the overall oppression of a monarch that was going insane.

Some felt that we could still reach a reasonable agreement, but how could we when our Parliament representatives had no power and stood there like helpless children.  How could a country treat its so called citizens like they were nothing?  Now there will be those of you who will want to respond that we are going through the same thing.  I will happily disagree.  You have something that the colonists never had…rights.  If you, the person reading this, chooses not to exercise your rights, then that is your choice.  American colonists had no rights.  It was brave men such as Richard Henry Lee, John Adams, Josiah Bartlett, Samuel Chase, and Edward Rutledge that made a difference.  It was the men and woman that watched their homes, farms, businesses; plantations get burned to the ground or taken from them that made a difference.  It was a man of Native American and African American decent that made a difference.  His name was Crispus Attucks and he died a free man fighting for his beliefs. 

Our military, what little we had, did what they always do.  They followed orders.  They brought their families to the frontlines to protect them.  Some deserted because of the harsh winters, sickness, lack of food, and clothing, while some took up arms to protect their homes.  Battles were fought in Massachusetts to Virginia and beyond, and people, plain, ordinary people sacrificed it all.  I celebrate that.  I am the embodiment of freedom.  I am an American citizen that stands up for our people, and I celebrate the sacrifices that were made by all. 

The flag flies because I put it up on a flagpole.  It is a beautiful symbol, but it is not one that means as much to me as the people of this country do.  Would you not raise a militia in defense of this nation?  I know I would!  Would you not protect this country?  I would!  What are the sacrifices that you have made for this nation?  I have sacrificed greatly for this nation and I will continue to until this nation no longer needs my sacrifice.  You want freedom, then stop looking for someone else to provide it.  Ensure your freedom by being an active citizen.  The flag is a piece of cloth, but this nation, and its citizens…well, that’s something worth fighting for.  That’s something all of us should be proud of. 

There will be some of you who read this and think that I don't support our military.  Go ahead and think something that insane.  In case you don't know, my husband is in Afghanistan.  However, I feel that it is incorrect to think that the military was one that secured our freedom.  They maintain our freedom now.  They did secure it, but it was all colonists, all Americans that helped to secure our freedom.  

So my challenge to you, dear reader is this:  Learn to be an active citizen.  Be what our founders wanted.  Be the best American you can be.  Be the dream that people have died for in protection.  Be a good person and know that you are freedom.   “And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.”

Non-Deployers in a Deployable Place and Other Things That Don’t Make Sense

My husband is in a squadron and the whole purpose is to train to deploy with the Army.  Yup, he’s Air Force Weather and he plays in the same sandbox with the Army.  I would say that he might be an Army Dabbler.  He’ll go to jump school eventually, and complete whatever training that is required by both branches.  I see NCO Academy, some training at Fairchild AFB, another at Ft. Carson, and weapons, etc.  I don’t think this is such a big deal.  I personally feel that he needs to be prepared for his job.  An ill prepared service member means that the mission is at stake.  What is this mission you ask?  I can tell you.  Our mission is to crush and destroy the enemy.  Who is this enemy?  I can tell you that too.  Our enemy is a group of terrorists that live halfway across the world (not in caves), who hatch up ways to kill all Americans.  I feel that I have summed up what the purpose is of Jeremy’s job.  I might be oversimplifying this, but I don’t think so. 

So here’s something that’s been bugging me since we moved to Ft. Bragg.  How can people who are non-deployable be assigned to a “train to deploy” squadron?  I have to ask this question because this happens.  I’m going to present a series of scenarios for you dear reader that might provide some insight that I am actually thinking about as I am typing. 

1. 1.      A person is on a medical profile.  Profiles come because the service member has been injured or suffered an accident, etc and needs time to recover and become healthy again.  Also included in medical profiles are mental health illnesses.  In this day, PTSD is something that cannot be overlooked which is why I am including mental health in with all medical profiles.

    Sometimes a profile can be used as an excuse to not do ones job.  We have all heard the stories of those that can milk the system.  I don’t personally care for those people, but that’s just my opinion.   I’m sure there’s more out there, but for the sake of this blog, I’m going to say all medical issues, both physical and mental will fall under “medical profile.” 

1. 2.    Family problems can prevent a person from deploying.  Well, I have seen this happen in the Air Force.  I know of people that were tasked for their seventh deployment and because of a serious family issue, they were able to stay home and take care of their family.  I think it’s impressive that the AF would do that.  I also think it can be frustrating because someone has to go in their place.  This topic breaks down into two subcategories:  Those that disclose information about family issues and those that don’t.

a.    Full Disclosure:  Those service members that make their command aware of family issues (whatever they are), to me are people who are taking responsibility for their family.  They want to get the help that is needed and know that resources exist to help.   Yes, they may not be able to deploy at that moment, but you need to make sure your family is okay. 

b.    Non Disclosure:  Then you have those that don’t tell anyone that they have family members that are having problems.  I have come across this recently too.  This is actually the reason that Jeremy is deployed.  Without breaking confidence, this is not an ideal situation.  When a person is tasked to deploy, in my mind, it would be best to bring up all situations that could arise.  In our case, Jeremy brought up that we have no house, and I have a hernia, and I can’t stand living with my mother.  But the reason why he is in Afghanistan caught people unaware and it has been a determent to the mission.  Needless to say it’s been a determent to my family too.  The moral of this subcategory is to make people aware of your family and any issues that could arise.  The squadron wants to help.  It’s their job and they would like to be effective at that job.  Oh, when you get home early and someone has to go in your place, don’t go around telling everyone you work with that your family problems have happened before.  That means to me that you knew problems would arise, told no one and did nothing. 

1. 3.  Lastly, people really don’t think they will have to deploy.  Seriously?  We've been at war for ten years.  How on earth would you think that?  I know recruiters can be a little shady, I've heard stories, but come on!  Have you been living under a rock? 

So these are the reasons that I see why people can’t deploy.  I think some of these stink, but that can’t be helped.  I think some are preventable, but again can’t be helped if people aren’t aware.  So, what can be done about non-deployers?  Well, I’ve been thinking about that.  As a bleeding heart liberal, I want to help people.  I want to show them the resources available and get them the help they need.  However, I live in the real world (not the MTV show) and know that I can’t make people accept assistance or get it.  If it’s medical, that’s different because the military person can be ordered to get help.  If it’s the family member, it’s up to the active duty person to tell people, work with the base, take care of their family, and do what’s best.  

Don’t be that person that people are constantly having to deploy for.  I know this is the military and nothing can be right or fair, but you non-deployer that’s not interested in helping yourself, families have to separate because of you.  So fix yourself, and if you don’t want to, then maybe you should re-think your chosen career.  

This now brings me to the “other things” part of the title.  Military families are forced to move to locations that people don’t like.  For example, I know plenty of people that liked being at Offutt and living outside Omaha.  I was not one of those people.  I didn’t like Offutt.  I thought the base was sorely lacking in the deployed family support that we have here.  Not only that, but it seemed to me that it was a 9-5 base.  Once offices closed and people went home, they weren’t really in the military that was just their daytime gig.  I also thought that the zoo in Omaha was boring.  Sorry for you that love that zoo; I was unimpressed.  I could have complained a lot more than I did.  But I tried to do my best.  I started a spouses group, I found a college full of people that I love, and I made good friends there.  I miss them so much.  But I don’t miss the weather and I don’t miss living there.  I got involved and some great things happened to us there. 

We are people that actually like Ft. Bragg.  I know…crazy, but we do.  We are East Coast people.  Though it’s not close enough to ocean, we have enough random bodies of water that make it nice.  This squadron is unlike any Jeremy has ever been assigned to.  It’s all about the mission, and the mission must be accomplished.  Our commander is one that sees that people must be trained and their families must be provided for and he ensures that his mentality is conveyed in his every action.  I’m not saying that it’s not like this in other places, but it was different.  The mission is in your face here. 

The point that I’m trying to make is that you need to shut up.  Stop complaining and if you’re going to then please make sure it’s about something that warrants complaining.  Hating a place because it’s around the Army and the town has crime isn’t much to complain about.  Last I checked you still have a roof over your head and family that loves you.  You could come and live with my mother, and then you would really have something complain about. 

We have to make the best of what we’ve been given.  I have forgotten this lately.  It’s been that hard for me.  I struggle every day to keep my head up because of everything going on.  I can’t let life get to me the way it is, or I will lose my mind.  So maybe, through cooperation, support, and friendship we can make it through the hard times and rejoice in the good.  

The Tears Don’t Seem To Stop

There are days when I wonder how many tears can one human being produce?  I have seriously solved the water issues for the entire state of North Carolina with my freaking tears!  I’m not joking; I cry that much.  I would like to say that it’s pitiful, but it’s not.  I am so sensitive right now and any act of kindness, love, whatever makes me cry. 

Today as I was leaving my new gym I saw a man in a motorized wheelchair coming in.  I said hello and chatted with him.  I saw his tattoo and realized that it was an insignia of some kind.  He was in the Army.  He had lost both of his legs from the knee down and one arm from the elbow down.  I didn’t get his name, but I did find out that his injuries and loss came from and IED in Afghanistan.  Afghanistan, that’s where my Jeremy is.  I tried not to look worried, but he could tell I was. 

“Is your husband over there?”  He asked. 

“Yes, he’s there.” I replied. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s safe,” he responded. 

I tried not to cry.  I held back tears, and I’m holding them back now.  Safe, what an odd word to say about a person who is at war.  I know what Jeremy does.  He’s not infantry, he’s not humping a ruck, and out there in anymore of that shithole country, but I think the tears were for the others that are there.  The tears were for my friends, my military family that is out there every day, living in that shithole country.  The tears were for my husband who is not home and is there and told me that it’s “no joke” there and that some of the things he has seen make him beyond sick. 

So, I cry…a lot…all the time.  I cried to Jeremy via Skype and told him that I am being pushed to a point that I didn’t know existed.  I cried after I got off the phone with my friend Julie who let complain about my moody mother who doesn’t seem interested in providing me the help that I need, I cry when I hold Ian close and he wants to know where his Dada is, and I cry when I am all alone because it seems to be the only release I have some days. 

I need to stop these tears.  They need to just go away or they need to come around when tears are really needed.  Tears of joy are just fine, but crying because my eyeballs have sprung a leak…well that’s weird.  If I didn’t feel so lonely that would probably help.  If I could really talk to Jeremy, like we do when he’s home, that would help too.  If I keep myself distracted that will help out too.  Thank goodness I have a gym membership.  Mostly, I just need to remember that even though he’s gone, he’s not gone forever and will eventually be home with me.  Until he’s home, I’ll just have to carry a lot of tissues.  

My Husband Deploys to Portsmouth

That could potentially be quote of the month and I owe it to my best friend Julie.  She made me laugh so hard with that.  Amazing how someone you’ve known for thirteen years knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.  You see, I’m actually in a bad mood…a really bad mood.  I mean the kind of bad mood that I should not be around people unless it’s absolutely necessary.  Well, I was in that foul of a mood; I’m doing a little better now. 

I can honestly write that I have been struggling with this blog entry for a week.  Part of it is everything that is really pissing me off is still unfolding.  The other part is that I can’t seem to organize my thoughts, so now I’m using bullet points.  I think it could be the best way to get out how I am feeling and attempt to problem solve at the same time.    

• Jeremy:  I can’t believe I feel this way, but again I need to be honest.  I miss him so much, but it’s a good thing he’s not around right now.  I have been cleaning up some of his messes for the last week and unable to take care of much else.  It’s been hard because this is a reoccurring problem in our marriage.  I’ll provide an example.  We had an automatic rent payment to our old property managers.  Jeremy cancelled it after rent had been paid for May.  Did he call the property manager before he left?  No, and he had time.  He could have emailed the company, but didn’t do that either.  I know he was stressed and busy, but so am I.  If a person who is deploying can remember their gear because it’s on a CHECKLIST, then they can use a CHECKLIST to take care of personal things as well.  He had the time off and was done packing for his deployment.  I finally got the check on Tuesday, but that’s after sending three emails and getting Jeremy’s 1^st Sgt involved. 
• The stress this caused:  Well this just became an issue for me.  I hate having the ball dropped.  I also cannot stand tasks over and over again.  Why not just complete a task the right way the first time? Here’s the difference between myself and Jeremy.  He’ll drag out two days worth of errands into a week, and I want it done NOW!  Of course I want things done now.  My ultimate goal is to have that crap off my plate so I can enjoy my time with my family.  I can’t relax if my mind is distracted about all the crap I need to get done.  I think what made me really want to hurt the poor hubby is that he knows this.  That’s what hurt my feelings and made me feel like I was being taken for granted.  So our time before he left and we had some time because he took leave was full of stress and errands and it didn't need to be that way.   As I was venting to my friend and making the excuse of being military for Jeremy, she said it has nothing to do with being military, it has everything to do with being a man.  It was awesome…and true.  That’s when Julie said, “My husband only deploys to Portsmouth every morning and he will do the same thing.”  I then responded with something like, I can’t forget to do stuff…whatever the stuff is.  I’m always expected to have it together. I also cracked a back joke about Portsmouth.  
• The need for change:  Well, I actually said to Jeremy, “something has to change because I can’t deal with this anymore. “  And I can’t.  I need him just as together at home as he is work.  And lately, we haven’t been partners; we've been at each other’s throats.  I know it’s been hard with all of our stress.  Our situation of homelessness, deployment, needing a surgery…well the list seems endless and our situation isn't ideal.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that Jeremy is a bad husband because he’s not.  He’s so amazing, but he has his flaws like I do.  He’s so laid back that nothing really bothers him so he can drag crap out for days.  I’m so ADD  that doing that makes me crazy and sends me over the edge.  We need to learn how to compromise, but I don’t know how.  I think it’s time with get outside help because we've been trying to work on this for years and we’re getting nowhere.  Now, I’m so angry at him that I can’t let it go.  Everytime I think about it, I get mad all over again and that’s not good.  We both must give to get, and in the end we’ll be better and stronger.
• I have to change too.  I can’t be the one that expects Jeremy to make all the changes.  This one really piggybacks off of number three, but I needed to expand on this.  I always say that you have to give to get.  What haven’t I been giving him to get him to be the man I know he is?  Lately we've been so off that it worries me.  We are usually so good at reading each other, communicating with each other, but it’s been hard.  Deployments are tough, but coupled with everything else…well you get where I’m going with this.  I too need to manage my time better, and I too need to figure out how to prioritize and get the most out of my day.  Jeremy and I need to do that together.   I have married the best man on the planet; I really did.  I know some of you feel that way about your spouse and that’s great, but they are no Jeremy Reynolds.
•  A solution:  I need to put on my big girl britches and be proactive.  We need to get some help for time management and figure out where our communication breakdown is.  If we need to get outside help, then that’s what we do.  My marriage is worth every fight and battle.  My life with Jeremy is everything I never knew I wanted.  He truly makes me a better person, and I’m too selfish to let that go.  So now we prepare to get ourselves back on track, figure out our new family dynamic with Ian, and realize that taking each other for granted is not cool.  One problem down, another to go!

Seriously, another problem…I know, I can’t believe it either.  This is an issue that’s been brewing for months, maybe years.  My mother and I don’t get along well.  Not anymore.  I don’t think I am explaining this well.  We do get along, just in small dosages. Now, I’m living in her home with my child and I’m losing my mind.  Some days, she’s so helpful and amazing, but other days she can’t be bothered.  I never know what day it is when I wake up.  Ian is crazy about his Grammie and Opa.  Chris, my step-dad walks into the room and Ian starts saying “Pa Pa” for Opa.  He even makes a G sound for my mom.  He knows who they are.  If I had finished writing this a couple of days ago, it would have been an all out bashing of my mother.  Today, I have let go of the anger towards her, and realized that I have to be the one that changes my behavior towards her.  I need to let her know what I want and need in regards to assistance with Ian, and what I am doing each day.  She likes knowing that stuff.  I find it very annoying, but it provides some form of structure for her day.

 

I have said it before and I will say it again and again, sometimes you just have to play the game.  As my friend Amanda says, “Shut up and color.”  But there are times that I am absolutely amazed by my mother. When I say amazed, it’s because I’m in shock at some of the things she says and does.  I could use a bunch of cliché statements to describe about how I should behave and respond, but I won’t.  There’s no point.  I have seen a change in my mother that last few years that I find unlikeable.  I guess that’s all I can say about it.

I am waiting for a day when things start to get a little bit easier.  I am waiting for what it was like in mid-April when we were just a family with a husband that was gearing up for a deployment.  I’m trying to get my son and I back into some form of a routine.  I am also trying not to be mad that Jeremy is gone.  I know it’s his job, blah, blah…that’s not the problem.  What is my problem you wonder?  I miss my husband and my complete family.  I miss us, being an “us” and having fun just laughing with him.  I am sad that we are buying our first house and he’s not here for the closing date, and helping me tear up carpet, paint walls, and get new cabinetry for the kitchen.  He’ll come home and everything will have changed; everything. 

So my issue is simple, and I will be okay.  I will just be sad and miss the hubby.  I will be mad at him for the dumb shit he does as he will be with me, and we will figure out how to get ourselves back on track.  I will accept my mother for being my mother and know she will never change.  However, I will be sad and miss my husband until he is home.  

The Meaning of Memorial Day

It’s amazing to me how I am hearing and seeing so many thank our military for their service to our nation. I find it wonderful and humbling. Memorial Day is a three or four day weekend to almost everyone. They BBQ, they drink, laugh, and have a great time. It’s the unofficial start to the summer season, and life doesn’t seem to get much better. I typically will not BBQ on Memorial Day because almost every year that I lived in VA, it would rain and I would be annoyed. I did the drinking though and it was fun.


This year is different, not just because my husband is gone, but the political tone in our country is one of strong division, disdain, and an almost hatred of someone that doesn’t believe “your” way. We are unbelievably polarized and there appears to be no compromise on our horizon as a nation. The men and woman that lost their lives for Memorial Day would be deeply saddened by this division.


“Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, in his General Order No. 11, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. The first state to officially recognize the holiday was New York in 1873. By 1890 it was recognized by all of the northern states. The South refused to acknowledge the day, honoring their dead on separate days until after World War I (when the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war). It is now celebrated in almost every State on the last Monday in May (passed by Congress with the National Holiday Act of 1971 (P.L. 90 - 363) to ensure a three day weekend for Federal holidays), though several southern states have an additional separate day for honoring the Confederate war dead: January 19 in Texas, April 26 in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Mississippi; May 10 in South Carolina; and June 3 (Jefferson Davis' birthday) in Louisiana and Tennessee.”( http://www.usmemorialday.org/backgrnd.html )


Now only in the South could they not let the “war of the Northern Aggression” go, but that’s fine. Flowers on the graves that lost their life to the bloodiest war in American history, how awe inspiring. It was a war that had deep political divides, passions and beliefs. I do not see our nation heading toward the field of battle against each other like with the Civil War, but I do believe that our battlefield is out there, it’s just different.


As we reflect on those that made the ultimate sacrifice for this nation, a President’s words are playing a game in my mind. Those words are serving as my inspiration.


“If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do, and how to do it. We are now far into the fifth year, since a policy was initiated, with the avowed object, and confident promise, of putting an end to slavery agitation. Under the operation of that policy, that agitation has not only, not ceased, but has constantly augmented. In my opinion, it will not cease, until a crisis shall have been reached, and passed.


"A house divided against itself cannot stand."


I believe this government cannot endure; permanently half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved -- I do not expect the house to fall -- but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or all the other.” (Abraham Lincoln, House Divided Speech, 1858)


A house divided against itself cannot stand? What does that mean today? It’s clear that in this beginning of Lincoln’s speech that he is railing against the division of the nation and slavery. It (the nation) must make a choice. We must either give up slavery to be one nation, or not to be one nation. We cannot have both. America could not be a nation that could have its cake and eat it too. Are we there today? Are we a house divided? I believe we are headed down that path. We are so divided that I personally can barely tolerate being friends with any more uptight Republicans or the religious right. Lincoln’s address, in my opinion, was the basis of his presidency. He never believed that the Southern states seceded from the Union. It is the line, “I do not expect the Union to be dissolved…” that amazes me. Our Union will never dissolve as it did 150 years ago. But what will? What will be sacrificed, or lost because we cannot accept the differences in each other?


As I read over Lincoln’s first inaugural address, I dumbstruck by the last line, the passionate plea for the Union. He did not believe that secession was possible since our Constitution had formed a “more perfect Union.” Lincoln also believed that before more bloodshed, that our nation could come together again and end the impending war that lasted five years and took many lives.


"We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lincoln's_first_inaugural_address)


As our nation marched headstrong into war, our families were divided, friendships lost, but the greatest sacrifice was that of the people. Americans killing Americans. Brother against brother. Such loss…such great loss…and for what? For a belief? For a passion? If you ask anyone why the Civil War was fought, two answers can be and are given; slavery and states’ rights. Are we there again? Are we so impassioned that as a nation, so full of rage, judgment, hatred, that we the people are going to fight again?


“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.


Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.


But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gettysburg_Address)


A nation, under God shall have a new birth of freedom…a new birth of freedom; I actually start to tear up when I read this line. A government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not parish from the earth. That is why we fight; that our government will not parish from the earth. Isn’t it time that we put aside our petty differences, come together as a nation and realize that we must all sacrifice. That a “new birth of freedom” is possible by listening, to each other? What happened to the tolerant nation I was born into? I do not see that nation before me now. I see one spews forth hatred to its fellow citizens like a dragon breathing fire. We are becoming a “house divided” and if it continues, we will not stand; we will fall and we will fail.


Why do we celebrate Memorial Day? We honor the memory of those that have given their life so that our government, our belief will not parish from the earth.


“I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any word of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.” (Abraham Lincoln, The Bixby Letter)


As we celebrate, what I have called many times before, the BBQ holiday, please remember to think of those that have “ laid so costly a sacrifice upon the alter of freedom.” Think about families that will not be celebrating, but remembering those they have loved and lost. Pray for our military that are still on the field of battle, and mourning the loss of their friends.

A Cute Baby, Flat Daddy, BBQ, and Farewell

Yesterday I woke up ready to go. I fixed up my hair and picked out an outfit. I was so happy to go and see my military family. I love my military family. I was almost giddy when I was leaving. As I drove to Jeremy’s squadron, I sang out loud, talked to Ian, and called my friend Cori about my visit to Richmond. I am trying to set up a historic walking tour of Richmond and I would like to see the Patrick Henry re-enactment. I was reciting the speech to Ian and telling him all about nation’s history.


As I drove up to the gate and showed my ID card, the security person commented on how “I’m the one.” I was taken aback by the comment. Apparently these security people talk. They let each other know about the other cars and occupants. I find that hysterically funny. The really funny part is that I had FDJ in the front seat and that’s why “I’m the one.” I drove up last week some time and rolled down the window and my giant cutout of my husband freaked out the security person. He warned others not to be freaked out. I told the guard that I’m not crazy and he reassured me that he doesn’t think I’m crazy. He thinks it’s cool what I’m doing for my family.


What I’m doing for my family…well, I’m trying to do as many normal things as possible. I’m trying to get us back into some form of a routine so my child will feel secure. This is why I go to squadron functions. Yes, I’m the FRG leader/Key Spouse so I should be there, but it’s more than that. This is a great group of people that I enjoy being around and if Jeremy was here, I would be at the BBQ with the cute baby. Of course I was jeered a little when I walked in with my flat husband and baby, but who cares. It’s so great having Jeremy around.

Here’s the one thing about military life that I have mixed emotions on: moving. I love to move. I love the new adventure and going to a new place. I try to like every place I’ve been too, but sometimes that just doesn’t work. Yesterday, someone I really like and respect said farewell, and I will miss her. This is the part of moving that I don’t like. I don’t like missing my friends. Friends should be close…they are the family we choose.


It was fun yesterday being around my friends and family. It was good seeing everyone. The food was great and the laughter could be heard for miles. It’s the days like this; they aren’t spectacular or life changing. They are light hearted, good, and relaxing. It’s what I need, and it’s what my family needs.

We had a dunk tank yesterday, and it was fun!

To Feel Normal Again

It was so nice to feel that way with my friend Adria yesterday. She and her little girl Iris are great. I really enjoy hanging out with them and talking to her. Adria, is strangely conservative, not Republican, but conservative in regards to her government. However, she’s almost 100% crunchy hippy mom. The thing that she doesn’t remember to do is bring her reusable bags shopping. She forgets. The other thing I adore about Adria is that she doesn’t judge you. If she does it’s not to your face…LOL! I love that. It’s good to have a friend that you can talk about anything with and not be judged. I have a handful of those people in my life, and I’m so happy to add another.


Yesterday, we went walking around downtown and had lunch. It was so pretty, but hot out. Welcome to NC in May when one day it’s in the 60’s and the next the 90’s. Somehow I didn’t care that it was hot. It was just nice to be out, walking around and feeling normal again. Yesterday, the troubles and stresses seemed to melt away and I could just be me. I wasn’t the “me” that has a hernia, or lost her house, or has a deployed husband. It felt so good to just be normal again. It felt good to be Susan Reynolds, the hyperactive, zany woman, that’s super liberal, sees a bigger picture and has no problem letting people know what that bigger picture is.

Since Friday evening, I have felt normal. It’s so amazing how the camaraderie of woman, my new girls, my fellow wives/spouses have made life feel good again. They have been the booster shot that I needed! I needed to be able to sit around, talk about whatever, and feel normal.


I have to admit that feeling normal is nothing I am usually so cool with, but this time it’s really cool. We’ve just had so much happening. There’s so much going on with us that in all honesty, to just sit down and relax, it’s been amazing. It looks like things are finally starting to turn around and I love it. I love being normal some days. I love being around a group of smart and talented women. I love being around my son and seeing his cute face light up when he sees his daddy.

 Yup, it’s been so hard lately, but I know we’re starting to get through it. I hope the little cutie house will be ours, and I hope that our family will be together soon. Until these things happen, I will seek out my normal day with more regularity, and I will allow their goodness to wash over me and cleanse my soul.

Oh, and I’ve made a decision, I can call it Flat Daddy, but to Ian, it’s just Daddy. I'm so happy he could join us downtown. 

A Daddy at Dinner

We like to have dinner together. Most couples do. We would cook together, laugh, catch up on our day, discuss the world, and in my heart I would know that it was these moments that made my marriage great. My marriage is still great, but marriage is strangely separated right now. As we brought Ian more and more into our lives we realized that he needs to see us doing these things together. Ian needs to see his parents being in love and having a good time together. Now Ian is eating solids. Some food he can feed himself, and some food he can't. So every night, we sit at a table, with Ian between us, laughing, eating, and sharing our love. He grins and laughs almost the entire time.

Last night, as I was getting ready to feed Ian and sit down to eat, Ian started asking for Dada. He looked over to Jeremy’s chair and asked for Dada. I knew what had to be done. Flat Jeremy sat in his chair and Ian was delighted again with the completion of our family.


This won’t be a long entry, but it will be one that means something to me. It’s the little things, the smallest, tiniest things in life that make a difference. If putting up a flat cut out of my husband makes both me and my son happy, then so be it. The Flat Jeremy will come out and we will be happy to see it. It’s good to have him around, even if it’s not the real him. It’s just good to have him around. Thank you Ian for asking for your Daddy last night; I won’t forget to include Daddy again.