Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Obligatory Thankgiving post

Brace yourself….. because today I did the unthinkable. It is exactly one day until Thanksgiving, I have three papers and two presentations all due within ten days, have yet to run/workout/or walk any farther than the refrigerator since Monday, I am behind on my workload (crossing my fingers my boss isn’t reading this), and I haven’t slept for more than five hours in weeks. I am seriously beginning to feel the pressure of EVERYTHING, and although I would love to demand (in my best diva voice) for the earth to stop spinning, I seem to be helpless when it comes to stopping time—even for a nano second.

So what did I do??? (Drum roll please….) . I shut my laptop, put a ball cap on my head, and took my three amazing (and totally bored with Thanksgiving break) kids to the zoo. To say it was a restful experience would be like comparing Mt. St. Helens to a party popper. The kids were loud. The zoo was hot. The traffic was insane, and at least 15 slug bugs drove by causing World War Three to erupt in the backseat.

All that considered, I wouldn’t change a thing about today. You see a year ago, Thanksgiving was a MUCH different story. Jim was overseas in Iraq, Anna had such a bad case of separation anxiety that they had to pry her off me at preschool drop off, and JD couldn’t stand to be alone—even for a second. All of us were struggling to find that elusive holiday magic, and Thanksgiving seemed like just another blip on the calendar that only served to remind us of all we were missing.

But that is thing about being thankful… sometimes you can’t see how truly blessed your life is until you realize just how meaningless it would be without the crazy madness of family. Kids add mayhem, fingerprints, and stretch marks to your life, but they also add bedtime stories, belly laughs, and a valid excuse to make rice krispee treats at two in the morning. Thanksgiving IS a time to be thankful, and I honestly believe that ALL of us can find something amazing to be grateful for.

I know I am. This year I am thankful for the soldiers who are finally home, and for the soldiers that still fight overseas. I am grateful for the chance to go back to school, and for the fact that I am not the only thirty-something trying to make a career change. I am thankful for the way my 5-year-old looks at me like I am the most important person in the world, and the fact that my son wholeheartedly believes that moms are more valuable than Bill Gates stock portfolio. I am thankful for friends and family, and the fact that a turkey is a damn ugly bird (so I have absolutely no guilt eating it). And believe it or not, I am thankful for the experiences—the good and the bad—of being a questionable sane Army Wife. The deployments, coffees, promotions, foxtrots with the senior grades, and the throw-backs with the junior grades—they have all helped shape the woman you see today.

(But I would really love the chance to be thankful for University of Texas destroying (or at least not losing by more than 8) Texas A&M on Thanksgiving Day too… and so would my tuituion)

(If only all days were THIS perfect....)

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Break time

This morning I was sitting in traffic cursing the existence of I-35. You see, some vehicle, about five cars up from me, decided to do only 45 in the fast lane during rush hour, and the consequent back up extended for miles . I came to two conclusions as I sat there going nowhere fast: 1. People who drive under the speed limit are probably the very same people that never get invited to parties. 2. I have a bit of a temper.

The good thing about sitting in traffic for over 45 minutes is this: you are forced to think about things you may have been putting off for a while—even if you are suffering from an acute case of road rage. Yes, traffic would have been a hell of a lot easier to deal with if I had a cup of Starbucks sitting next to me in the cup holder… but then again caffeine would have only served to fuel my already soaring blood pressure (not to mention this weird throbbing vein that had suddenly appeared on my forehead).

Anyway, as I sat there, I decided that this morning would be a good time to reflect on all of the changes that had blown up my world over the past four months. For those that follow my blog, you are all aware that I finally decided to go back to school. It was a hard choice—one that impacted my family in every possible way. I am no longer home during the evenings, and I seem to spend every waking moment writing papers (and then bitching about them to friends). I am dependant on neighbors to carpool to my kiddo’s sporting events, and brace yourself for this one…. I am only able to catch a happy hour about once a month (**gasp**).

The crazy part of this journey is that life seemed to go from a rollercoaster to a tilt-a-whirl. Yes, I am still struggling to get everything done, but I am also trying desperately to find some sort of balance. Running has become more of a chore then a release. Work has become all about a pay check, and life has suddenly become measurable in hours, not experiences. Somehow, the race of the purpose-driven life has left me exhausted, cranky, and in need of a maid.

So, as I sat there breathing in the recycled fumes from the dirty diesel truck parked in front of me, I made a mental list of all I wanted to accomplish this Christmas break. Things like, take my kids to Sea World, actually bake (sugar-free, non-butter) Christmas cookies for Santa, finish up that manuscript I have been working on for the past two years, and finally have time to take the inner city “high risk for obesity” youth for a run. I promised myself that I would sleep in at least twice over the two week break, send three care packages to soldiers in Afghanistan, watch at least one movie that does not involve cartoons, wizards, or sparkly vampires, and hop on the back of a horse -close my eyes and just let it run.

You see, life has a way of manipulating our souls—even when we are desperately driven to reach our dreams. The world can become mundane, our priorities can get lost in the rat race, and we can take the people we love for granted--only because we are so caught up in crossing items off our to-do list. But I am here today to encourage you to remember that living is more than just existing. Reaching your goals is fantastic. Completing marathons is motivating. Looking better than a 22 year old in a bikini is freaking awesome. But, so is spending a night curled up in bed with your family watching Elf for the 900th time. Remember to breathe. Remember to live. Remember that a “break” does not mean you have to stop accomplishing things….. but rather that you finally find time to start accomplishing things that feed your soul.
(Note: Martinis may not be soul food.... but I am a 100% positive they are soul appetizers.)

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Feeding time

Last Friday I attended the 3rd ACR’s dining out. It was the first night that the officers and supportive staff got together for a night of revelry since the unit redeployed back to the US last September. I got all dressed up (in a fifteen minute window), put on my highest heels, and drove the two hours to Salado to celebrate with the families. I was excited to finally meet some of the men that I had heard stories about throughout the year long deployment: the Mormon lawyer, the lego master, the guy who had finally discovered the importance of PT and managed to lose 50 lbs. Up to this point, all of these people were only stories in emails-- Jim’s mystery support crew who had provided him with laughs along the journey.

What I wasn’t prepared for though, was the feeling of being lost once I walked into that ballroom. There I stood, underneath the thousands of twinkling lights trying to figure out what the hell we were supposed to be celebrating. After all, not all of the soldiers of the 3rd ACR returned home—and some that did will forever be wounded. Some marriages collapsed ; some are still struggling to survive. Military children on the home front were forced to learn how to live with anxiety and depression. And then there are wives like me—the one’s with the outward thousand-watt- smile who have no clue how to find the path back to that pre-deployment home. The home that was once familiar and safe and strong.

You see, I spent the last two years learning to pave a new path for myself. A freeing journey of self discovery where I allowed myself to go back to school, authorized myself money for eyelash extensions and coach bags (I figured I could collect gifts for Father’s Day too), and learned how to take the kids on vacations without a husband around. I grew accustomed to going to sleep alone—and waking up with three kids in my bed. I found strength in my potential to succeed. And I found peace in the knowledge that I could carry my family on only one set of shoulders. All positive…. Right?

Wrong. What the world fails to notice in a redeployment, is that an entire year creeped by. Sure, we can celebrate the fact that we are finally home together, but we can’t ignore the fact that the home we have returned to may be completely different than the one we had left. The soldiers are different. The spouses are tired. The children have grown.

As I stood beneath those lights and toasted the brave soldiers for their victory on the battlefield, I couldn’t help but raise a glass to my family. It took a two year journey to teach me that home is a place inside you—where family and friends are admitted upon invitation only and share your deepest secrets and most horrifying fears. Where the only limitations in this life are the obstacles that we fear can’t be cleared. And the pain of loneliness and the fear of the unthinkable carve out scars in our soul. The past two years have taught me that I can change the smoke detector batteries—if I stand on a telephone book, on top of a stool, on top of a chair. Frozen pizza and a gummy vitamin do cover practically every nutritional need of a growing child. And that a bubblebath, glass of chardonnay, and a total-smut book can serve as a two hour vacation when the thought of waking up and doing it all over again seems damn near impossible.

Yes, victory can be defined in many ways. To some, it is merely returning home—strong, motivated, successful. But to me, it’s only about finding home. Learning how to let people back in to my life even with the knowledge that the war will call them away again. Learning how to love and let go when every molecule in my body screams it’s too risky. And learning that the only way to conquer your fear is to face it.

Heck, sometimes the only option left open in this life is to swim up to that Moby Dick of your time—whatever that crippling fear may be-- look him straight in the eye, smile out of the corner of your mouth, cock an eyebrow in his direction…. and then pull out the tartar sauce. Are you hungry enough for the challenge?
(World's most awkward formal photo)

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Trick-or-treat? (Somehow, I unwillingly chose trick)

Today I am giving a salute to all the single moms out there-- those who are geographically promoted to the main caregiver and those who have no relief in sight. Don’t let anybody fool you—there is no harder job than serving as a mom AND a dad. Add in a job, soccer practice, parent teacher conferences, and a much needed workout… and you have exactly 15 seconds to enjoy for yourself. Heck, I now order my shoes online (from my phone as I am parked in traffic), buy groceries when the only remaining option left is to cook the dog, and console myself with the belief that folding clothes is “me time” IF I listen to my iPod while I tackle the mountain of laundry. Throw in a holiday (such as Halloween) on a Monday, and you have all the necessary criteria to fall off the productivity ladder flat onto your butt.

That’s how my week started. This year, trick-or-treat fell on a very inconvenient Monday night. The same night that I had mandatory class, AND my youngest daughter fell onto the couch in a heap of tears proclaiming that she wanted to be a princess NOT a cat. The same night that my end of month reports were due by 5:00, AND I felt compelled to run six miles due to the fact that I ate enough candy corn to throw myself into a sugar coma. Yep, my inner witch had been released, and I mounted my broomstick to fight the traffic towards school while my kids dressed up in all of their various costumes and 20lbs of makeup and fake blood. I felt guilty for having to ask my parents to take my kids trick-or- treating. I felt guilty about eating my weight in candy. And I felt pissed that I had to juggle a thousand roles when all I wanted to do was watch Ghost Hunters Live (Don’t judge…) while I curled up in bed with a cup of chamomile tea.

Depressing, right? Feeling compelled to hire me a cleaning lady now? Well, fear not. You see, in every situation there is ALWAYS a little bit of magic, and being a single mom is no exception. Miraculously, class ended an hour early, traffic was insanely light that night, and I made it home just in time to watch my kids trick-or-treat at one last house before calling it a night. They walked in the door, attacked the candy, and ALL curled up in my bed to watch “Catching Bigfoot”. Nope, it wasn’t “Ghost Hunters”. Nope, I didn’t get to take any of the usual pre-Halloween photos. Nope, I didn’t finish my end of month reports until November 1st. But that’s ok-- For eight blissful hours I slept with all my little goblins (and one feline-princess) as I thanked God that they were all a part of my life. Life can be hectic and out-of-your-control situations may threaten to bring you down, but all it takes is one enchanting moment to balance the universe once again. And the real magic is this... I have yet to meet a single mom that EVER takes a moment with their kids for granted. Time is precious, single mothers understand this universal truth.

And for those that are still exhausted from the Monday night holiday that tossed us under the productivity bus try this: wait until the kids are sleeping, sneak downstairs into the kids’ loot bags, and steal a Take-5 candy bar. Trust me…. It’s like a little bit of heaven.
(The Halloween cat/princess/track star... Most dilemmas have multipe possible solutions)