A Month of Thankfulness!

Tomorrow we start November and we are inching closer to Thanksgiving! I can't believe how quickly time seems to be going by this year. The twins will be 5 months old on November 7th, Stella is 18 months and Max is FOUR!

Something that I think is really important to Rob and I in our parenting is teaching our children to be grateful. There are SO MANY adults and kids today that have a HUGE sense of entitlement and it drives me bananas. Instead of being grateful for the blessings that we are given we are constantly on the hunt for more or unsatisfied, even when our every need is filled. We are not perfect and can definitely be guilty of this as well!

In an effort to remember just how blessed we are as a family, we are going to be celebrating November with a Month of Thankfulness and Gratefulness! We plan to show our appreciation for those around us with random acts of kindness and little things that just say THANK YOU!

Some ideas that I have for the month are...

1. Make treats and take them to the fire house down the street. These firefighters are the ones who responded to our scary 911 call with Max last year.
2. Send treats to Mommy and Daddy's coworkers.
3. Give a $5 gas card to someone.
4. Leave a $1 by the coffee machine at a gas station.
5. Donate our old clothes to friends and others.
6. Donate toys we don't play with anymore.
7. Turkey our neighbors with a surprise on their doorstep.
8. Visit the Oklahoma Food Bank and donate canned goods and $ for meals.
9. Pick up trash somewhere.
10. Take a treat to our LifeKids Director at church.
11. Give an offering at church.
12. Make dinner for friends.
13. Take old towels and treats to the local animal shelter.
14. Write a Thank You card to a friend.
15. Send a TS gift to someone just to say we love you.
16. Leave candy for the mailman.
17. Adopt a kid for Christmas.
18. Leave change on a vending machine.
19. Treat our sitter to a sonic drink.
20. Take a coffee to our MDO director.
21. Bring breakfast for our MDO teachers.
22. Leave nice notes on bathroom or dressing room mirrors for the ladies.
23. Make a military care package for a deployed soldier.
24. Take a dinner to a military wife.
25. Pay for the person behind us somewhere.
26. Pray for a friend.
27. Call our grandparents just to say Hi.
28. Tip the teenage boys who helped us take our groceries out.
29. Give a gift to our siblings!
30. Adopt a family for Christmas.

Other little things we want to do are be kind, smile at strangers, teach Max to open doors for ladies and the elderly, put carts back at stores, let someone cut in line, give more hugs, say Thank You to everyone, complain less, laugh more and pray often!

I don't know that we will get close to doing everything on our list but we are excited to show others that we are thankful for them!

Our month was inspired by this!
http://ticklestogiggles.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-birthday-was-awesome.html

Ya Gotta Love Beth Moore

I have always wanted to be good at journaling. But I'm not. I start and then I stop and then I lose the journal. And then I find it 2 years later and throw it away. I am drawn to cute notebooks and stationary but then it just takes up space in our already cluttered house.

When we first brought home the twins every day was a challenge. I would wake up in the morning and I felt like I had to mentally plan out my battle plan of surviving 4 small children. I needed a pick me up, a morning OOMPH to get me going and I knew what I really needed was Gods Word. So I started looking for a good morning devotional but nothing really caught my eye.

I stumbled upon this devotional and I instantly thought it would be a good match. It's a devotional and journal in one which is exactly what I was looking for. The devotions are just 2 pages but insightful and thought provoking. They include scripture and point you to areas to read in your own Bible. It was perfect. Lo and behold it was written by the southern queen of bible study Ms. Beth Moore. Ya Gotta Love Beth Moore!

It's been a few weeks and I am really enjoying it. Its based on her book Get Out of That Pit and really focuses on Psalms 40. I love that it really emphasizes how God will provide for us and that our struggles are not in vain.

Most importantly it is biblically sound and its the perfect way to start your day as a busy mama.

Always,
Jesi

Survival Mode

Back in the saddle againnnnnnnnnnnnnn....

It's Army time. Well the Army called and my amazing husband is spending some time finishing some needed trainings. God willing they will allow him to be promoted which would be a big blessing! Both to him and his dedication to his military service and financially as well.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, we are in survival mode. Well newborn + toddler = new routine, tired mama, postpartum emotional breakdowns survival mode. It's been a crazy two weeks since Stella joined our family and so far she has proven herself to be much easier than her big brother. And the thought of Rob leaving for training didn't really phase me too much. After all he will only be gone for a very short amount of time compared to our previous deployments. And he will be home super soon. And he got to spend more time with us before he left than he did when Max was born. And...it still hit me harder than I thought.

I know LOGICALLY that this is NOT a deployment. I know logically he will be home soon and not gone for a year and we don't have to worry about his safety or foreign countries or readjustment, but dang! It's still hard to be a momma to a VERY VERY energetic 2.5 year old and a 2 week old. It's a bit much to get out of bed 7 times in less than 7 hours. It's just a lot to take in and a lot of it is emotionally trying because I feel myself reliving the experience I had when Max was born and Rob DID deploy.

So survival mode is now in place. Just like when he left when Max was 10 days old and I had to escape the house everyday for my own sanity we are going to be doing the SAME thing, this time with two in tow. Expect a lot more posts in the coming weeks, its my own form of escapism to blog and it's a great way for Rob to stay inside my head when we are seperated by the miles.

Tomorrow's survival plan
~Shopping for craft supplies for a super cool GROUP project I am a part of
   (curtailed from todays plans by the wicked hail storm we had here!)
~Stopping by Mardel to pick up the book "Five in a Row" and to let Max play with the train table.
~On the homefront-dishes and putting away the clean laundry in preparation to DO the dirty laundry

Figuring it out!
Jesi

Holy Pelvic Pain

I like to think of myself as a low maintenance OB patient. I mean this is my 2nd go round. And heck, even with my pregnancy with Max I prided myself on not being "That Patient". You know the one, the nurses have memorized her number on the caller ID and they SIGHHHHHHHHHHH before they pick up and answer her 477th question. Yeah that one.

I was not that patient! After all, I love to read so I read just about every pregnancy book out there. And these were the days of 2 full time incomes and no children. Heck I sat in B&N and read entire books with all my spare time. SIGHHHHHHHHHH, where did that time go?

ANYWAYS, there were TWO times I called my dr. when I was pregnant with Max.

Situation A) I was spotting in the first trimester and yes it was red and yes I sort of freaked out. After a 4 hour evening spent at the ER we got to see baby and were reassured that all was well.

Situation B) After working approximately 50ish hours at my previous life of torture, ahem, I mean my old job I got sick. Like exhausted, very very achy, feverish and couldn't hold my head up at work. Rob was out of town for pre-deployment training and my parents were out of town somewhere. I came home and felt like death. I called the office, which was closed and by the time the nurse called me back I had vomited and was crying. She told me to wait it out OR I could go to the 5th floor of L&D if I felt it was neccesary. Hello, 3rd trimester vomiting and flu symptoms? Yes I went, thankfully my MIL was able to meet me and hold my hair back as I repeatedly was sick AND got stabbed like 7 times before they got an IV into my hand just under my thumb. I was severely dehydrated and exhausted. My hours at the torture chamber were quickly shut down to 8 hours per shift, no more than 40 hours per week. Oh wait, thats what people work at normal jobs? Ahem, note this was my PREVIOUS as in no longer employed at the torture chamber job. Amen.

SO when I say I am low maintenance I mean it. I only call if I feel like death or have a genuine concern about the health of baby. We have a new doctor this go round, we will call him Dr. Slinky. Well Dr. Slinky loves me. I mean after all I am in and out in 12-14 minutes flat. Heartbeat good, chart good, weight gain is totally under control, urine is cleared, measuring on track, oh your 2 year old is climbing on the rolling stool about to bust his head open, Yep! You are good to go Jessica, see ya in a month! I like Dr. Slinky too.

So a few weeks ago after I FINALLY stopped wretching violently at everything and anything lil Baby Stella decided to bring on the pelvic torture. I don't know if she is laying horizontally doing the breaststroke in there or what but my hips have been in pain since the beginning. No big deal, I am a former dancer, I am sure my hips are jacked up in some way, I mean they hurt on a regular basis. BUT the pelvic pain is way more torturous than ANYTHING I encountered with Max. What I mean to say is that it doesn't hurt when I sit with my feet elevated. Which is awesome. Except for the fact that is hurts VIOLENTLY when I stand, walk, put pants on, teach dance, tap, lay down and the worst is when I attempt to change positions in bed. I found myself biting my pillow last night. And at 30 weeks pregnant I am just saying it was definitely because of pain, ahem, if you know what I mean. I mean if you know what I mean it was not because of. Umm my mom reads this blog.

Yeah so now comes the dilemna. Do I call or not call? I mean this would be my first call to Dr. Slinky's office. Def not enough to make me "that patient". But I am 30 weeks pregnant. So when people ask how I feel and I say, "oh ya know I feel like my pelvis is broken and I would prefer to rip it out of my body at this point" in turn they reply "Oh yeah, well you are at that point, I'm sure it's normal"

AHHhhhhhhh Normal is NOT wanting to singlehandedly rip out your pelvis people. I have a fairly high pain tolerance *I think*. I have had a baby before. I have been at "that point" before and I most certainly could function without this ridiculous penguin waddle I have mastered that semi helps the pain of moving.

Thank the good Lord I am not still working at the torture chamber. I mean sure, I have my own personal backstroke champion rendering my pelvis completely useless. But even though it hurts like crazy, nothing about Stella Katherine is torture, well unless she decides to not sleep for the first 10 months of her life...like some other little adorable child I know, cough cough, maximusowen.

Holy Pelvis Pain.
Jesi

Oprah

Oprah is looking for real life military wives so my online deployment buddy, Jackie and I both were going to submit hoping that we could meet in real life for the first time EVAH on National Television, ON OPRAH! Now that would make some excellent television right?

Here is my original story,

My name is Jesi and I am an Army wife.
10 years ago I was just a girl who fell in love with a soldier. 10 years later that soldier is my husband, the father of our children. 10 years later I have walked through more military separations than I can count. We have survived 2 deployments, one in Iraq, one in Afghanistan. One wedding nearly missed due to the call to assist in post Hurricane Katrina efforts. One weekend a month, 2 weeks a year is what you hear on the Guard commercials. The real story is that this is real life, full of unforeseen natural disasters, politically debated wars, tears and heartaches, gut wrenching goodbyes and sweet reunions.

I will never forget finding out that my husband was being deployed while I was pregnant with our first child. The excitement over the birth of our son became clouded with nerves and sympathetic glances. I was sitting in a meeting at my husband’s armory when the news came crashing down. The families had been invited to come to a Sunday afternoon meeting. We knew there was the possibility of a deployment on the horizon. It was spring 2007 and I came expecting to hear about military family activities or information on benefits. Nothing prepared me to hear my husband’s commander confirm our fears; your husbands are being deployed. Later this fall they will leave for training, they should get leave before deploying overseas. They will be stationed in Southern Iraq. We don’t know what the mission is, the dates may change but the deployment is inevitable.

Rob left when our son was 10 days old. I drove him to the armory early in the morning and said goodbye. I felt almost numb by that point. All of the fear and nerves and tension were released because we were finally here. Rob was gone, Max had arrived and this was to be my life for the next year. In that moment I accepted the deployment for the first time. I realized I could sink or swim and because I had a tiny human nestled in his car seat behind me I had to swim. I was a first time mom full of post partum emotions and anxiety. We made it through that deployment minute by minute, day by day. In my darkest hours as I sat rocking my baby in a darkened nursery I could do nothing more than cry out to God for answers. I wanted to know why we were enduring this separation, why it had to be in this timing. I clung to my faith and my pride in my husband like a life preserver in a raging sea. At times it was all I could do keep my head above water.

Today I am thankful. Thankful that deployment is behind us, a memory that has become just another part of our story. I am thankful for the military wives who comforted me through the pain of separation, many of whom I have never met in real life, our stories intermingled through our blogs and written tears.* I am thankful that my husband came home, safe, alive, albeit changed. We struggled through reintegration as we tried to remember how to be us, as Rob learned how to be a dad, as Max learned who this soldier was, his Daddy. We are not perfect, we are not certain what the future holds, we wait with baited breath to hear the news again but most importantly we are here, together, stronger than before, proud of our sacrifices to maintain the glory of this great country and humbled that we can call ourselves part of this story, the story of the United States Armed Forces.

*In a really interesting side note one of these military wives who was one of my biggest sources of comfort, encouragement and solace has also applied for this show. Jackie and I have never met in real life despite a year long journey together through our respective deployments. To meet her on this show would be a dream come true.

Then we realized that the limit on our story was 2000 CHARACTERS WITH SPACES INCLUDED. Bummer! My final entry was a mere blurb of above, I wanted to include " You cannot include the story of an Army wife in 2000 characters" but I was over the limit, LOL!

Well it's a God thing right, if they happen to get something from our blurbs it's ALL about God.

Love,
Jesi

The Masks We Wear

I’m reading a really good book right now called Behind Those Eyes by author Lisa Whittle. You can find her blog here.

The book is supposed to address “what’s really happening in the souls of women” and let me tell you, it’s a doozy. From Ms. Perfection to Ms. Happiness to the most challenging of all, Ms. Spirituality, it takes the first chapter, The Truth Hurts to really lay it out for you.

We as women, hide behind so many different masks. We have learned from society, church, and definitely the military to put on our masks to cover an inner pain but even more so our inner beauty.

Page after page rang true for me. I saw myself written in her words, and stopped to wonder how she had gotten it so right, so on target, right in the inner depth of the struggle that every woman goes through on a daily, hourly, even minute by minute basis.

Do I cover up my feelings to avoid being hurt? Do I cover up what I really think to fit in with the crowd? Do I cover up the tears with a mask covered in the finest makeup, the makeup that thinly veils what I’m really feeling?

I know that when my husband was deployed I didn’t want to feel the hurt and the pain of being alone. I learned to use my masks with the best of the best of them. I could cover up the heartache of deployment with my most matter of fact explanation. “Yes, my husbands deployed, To Iraq, he left when our son was 10 days old, he should be back around his first birthday” Nonchalant conversations that pierced my soul nonetheless.

As you walk through another day dealing with this life of deployment, of being a military mommy, I encourage you to take off your mask for a moment. Experience the pain, the healing, and the raw vulnerability of really getting real.

Tomorrow, from the book, The Truth Heals. But for today, what mask have you been wearing lately?
Always,
Jesi

Identity

Have you hidden yourself inside the identity of being an Army wife, a military mommy?

Boy did I ever! During this deployment I clung so tightly to the ideals, to what my husband was fighting for, the reason we were sacrificing of ourselves.

I watched Army Wives every Sunday (even when it got silly and outrageous) I talked to other Army wives and military mommys, I read books, started writing my own and connected with my inner warrior. You know the one, the one who gives you the strength to make it just one more day.

Being an Army wife and a military mommy became a part of my identity. It became a part of who I was. I had to explain over and over again that my husband was deployed. That he left when Max was 10 days old. That he would be home by Max's first birthday. That I didn't neccesarily disagree with the war. That I did disagree with those who made the troops feel opposed and unsupported.

Despite the tears, the sleepless nights, the fear, the worry and the hardest days, being an Army wife and military mommy has shaped the woman that I am today. And for that, I am thankful.

How has this crazy ride shaped your identity?
Always,
Jesi

You're So Blessed

I don't believe in Luck, because I do believe in God. I know that everything happens for a reason (even when I cannot see the reason and I spend hours crying in the darkness of my sons nursery)

But in the darkness of winter, when the nights turn black so early in the evening. And the seasons surround you with a snowy joy that threatens to overtake your sanity, it's hard to remember that you are NOT unlucky, that this life is not a curse, but that YOU ARE immensely blessed.

You are so blessed to have your Prince Charming. To know the feeling of a love that surpasses a distance, a challenge, and yes, even a deployment.
You are so blessed to have the joy of being a mother.
Of holding a healthy baby and knowing that you formed him (or her) in your womb.
You are so blessed to have a faith to hold on to.
So blessed to know our God.
You are so blessed to have a home to sleep in. A bed to keep you warm.
So blessed to make a meal to share with your children. Your family. Your friends.
You are so blessed to be married to man of strength. Of character. Brave, loving, caring, faithful.
So blessed to have your life.
Even the parts that make you cry in stores. Make you question why the holiday displays must be up already.
You are so blessed to celebrate this season.
Knowing that our Savior was born on Christmas Day, coming to save us.
So blessed to be saved.
So Blessed. So Blessed. So Blessed.

Counting the blessings. It's hard when your soul is threatened by the wintery darkness. Just try.
Always,
Jesi

I'd like to introduce you to my friend

I'd like to take today to introduce you to my friend, my sister in this crazy world that we call the Military, Jackie.

Check out her most recent post on her new blog, True Confessions of an Army Wife.

http://trueconfessionsofanarmywife.blogspot.com/

When I stumbled across another Army wife and military mommy on an internet forum earlier in the year I decided to take a moment and chat with this woman that I have never met.

Our stories were similiar, young baby boys, husbands gone, stong believers in Christ. We were destined to know each other, if only through the blogosphere. Even though we have never met, and maybe never will, I consider her a friend.

Jackie is the ultimate Military Wife. She sends her husband Aaron, homemade goodies and amazing care packages on a set schedule. She has carried her laptop around in case he can webcam. She is positive and sweet and loves her husband, despite the hard circumstances that the military has given her.

Beyond that, she is an amazing military mommy, my sister in Christ, an inspiration to me, and should be an inspiration to you too. She has it together and she is making it day by day, counting down the weeks, getting through the holidays, and raising a beautiful, healthy, strong, SuperBaby named Cayman.

If you don't already know Jackie from her blog, go check her out. I promise you will leave inspired by the courageous heart of another military wife and mommy, surviving this thing we call deployment. Kudos to Jackie, for all that she does!

Pray for her, Aaron and Cayman too.
Always,
Jesi

The Grocery Cart Story

After all that depressing talk about the Holidays, and the elections which are OVER by the way so enough media for the love of all things, I figured you needed a funny...

Without further ado, the shopping cart story.


It started like any other evening...I picked up Max from daycare and headed home. And then I remembered that I had to feed my dog cheerios the night before because we were out of dog food.

NO LIE on the cheerios...Deuce loved them.

Anyways, I changed my route and headed to Target, Max strapped into his carseat behind me. I peeked back and him and he was O-U-T. In case you weren't aware Max is NOT a sleeper. He prefers to live his life playing, eating, and playing some more until he crashes into a self induced traumatic meltdown that concludes with a brief catnap. Just enough to refresh for a few more hours of play, eat, play.

Normally, I would forgo the lure of Target. But really, my 70 pound chocolate lab cannot continue to live on cheerios. I had to get dog food! As I pulled into the parking lot I cursed my plight as a military mommy. If Rob were home I could give him a call and ask him to pick up the dog food, or I could head home and drop off the baby and go to Target alone, or I could run out later after Max was in bed and Rob hung out playing WOW. So many options not available to this military mommy.

As I pulled Max out of his carseat, he stayed asleep. This is abnormal for the King of Catnaps but whatever. I walked into the store and got a basket, all the while holding my 25 pound monster in one arm. My forearm ached as I headed to the back of the store. And then I reached the pet aisle and looked back and forth from my child, to my cart, to the 30 pound bag of dog food I was buying. Crap!

Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea. I spotted the dog beds, they sure looked comfy. I wonder...if I put this here little dog bed in my cart and ever so gently laid down my child I could at least grab the dog food before he awoke in a rage at the injustice of being dragged to Target after such a long day at daycare.

I slipped the dog bed into the cart. I smushed it down. I ever so gently laid my sleeping child onto the bed, holding my breath for just a few moments of quiet to grab the food and run.

He stayed asleep. In my shopping cart, on a dog bed. In Target.

I grabbed the food and put it underneath. I stood there for a moment laughing. I took a picture. I thought, "I am so blogging about this" and I waited.

HE STAYED ASLEEP!

So like any smart momma I started shopping. People gave me funny looks, they couldn't decide if I was the smartest woman alive or if they should call CPS on me. 30 minutes later, he awoke, in a rage at the injustice of being dragged to Target after such a long day at daycare.

We checked out, we headed home but I couldnt stop giggling at the thought of my monster conked out, in a shopping cart, on a dog bed, in Target.
Always,

The Holidays

I can’t believe it is already November! Where does time fly?

Since we already reached the November calendar in my planner, and the leaves are turning here, and Wal Mart and Lowe’s and the parking lot down the street already have up Christmas displays, I figured it was time we talk about the Holidays.

The Holidays alone.

Gulp. Not a very fun Monday topic. Ugggg, the Holidays are such a tricky thing. We love to celebrate and at Christmas have VERY good reason to. But it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach the fact that your spouse is 1000’s of miles away from you. It kinda makes you want to shout Bah Humbug from your rooftop right?

Rob missed several Holidays when he was deployed last year. Namely Thanksgiving, Valentines Day, his birthday, my birthday, our anniversary and several others that didn’t really seem to matter. We were incredibly lucky that he was here for Christmas and New Years, the 4th of July, and got home just in time for Max’s birthday.

I don’t take it for granted that we had him home during those big holidays. Because there are families all around me that do not have their loved ones home. They missed the big birthday, and they will miss Christmas too. And that sucks. It just plain stinks.

What helped me get through the holidays, the days when everyone around me celebrated and my heart was missing a piece of itself was to stop and be thankful. Stop and remember to be so grateful for having a brave and loyal husband. Thankful that he was safe. That another day had passed and we were 24 hours closer to the end. Thankful that I had an amazing family. So grateful for my healthy child. So thankful that we have a house, a roof, two cars, a dog, and more than we need. So grateful for my God who walked beside me in my loneliness, who carried me when I couldn’t take another step.

It is so easy, and so justified to wallow in a heap of self pity when the Holidays hit home and your loved one is deployed. So take a deep breath, let the tears out, pray, and remember to be thankful. To be utterly cliché, count your blessings and walk through another day. Tomorrow the holiday is over, and you are 24 hours closer to home.

Always,
Jesi
“I tell you the truth; you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy” John 16:20

Harder than grocery shopping

What is harder than grocery shopping alone?

Sick babies.

Ugg, I hate when Max is sick. And sick he is this week. You can check out my awesome math skills over on my personal blog (click on my profile to get there) In the middle of the night when Rob fetched the meds and took the early morning shift I was so so thankful to have him home.

If you have a sick baby and your husband is deployed, chances are A) You end up crying in the recliner B) You get sick yourself C) You curse your plight as a Military Mommy with a deployed husband D) All of the above

Even though the sick days are so, so, so hard they do present us with another opportunity to rely more fully on our God. When Max came down with hand, foot and mouth and was up EVERY HOUR, I distinctly remember sitting in his nursery, crying my eyes out to God, begging for Him to show me why we had to go through such adversity, crying out to feel Him near me.

And I did, feel Him near me. He was so, so, so close to me in those moments. Even when the darkness and sick days threaten to overtake you, draw close to Him. He is right there waiting for you. Sitting with you. Wiping your tears. Loving you. Protecting you. Holding your sick child.

Ergh, sick days are tough. I wish you very few this flu season. And today, I just want you to know that I am praying for your husbands, your babies, and you. Leave a comment so I can spend some time praying for your family.
And Thank you. Thank you for every sick night when you sacrifice the help of your husband so that mine can be home for a time. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Always,
Jesi

Grocery Shopping aka My Least Favorite thing in the world

As I was perusing my favorite blogs, I came across a post that chastised us Americans for complaining about grocery shopping. After all, there are millions of people starving across the world, living in true poverty, and we have the audacity to complain about walking the overflowing aisles of our local air conditioned grocery store.

And while I totally and completely understood the point, I had to disagree. Yes, I understand how incredibly lucky we have it as Americans. I am not taking away anything from the thousands of people who would do anything to shop in a grocery store BUT as a military mommy, I detest and utterly despise grocery shopping.

Let’s just say that dragging along your child who is in a catatonic and overtired state of mind after 8 hours at daycare to the local Target is no fun trip. When said child conks out in the backseat after you finally make it out of the store alive, all is great...until you get home, to an empty house, and you try to figure out how to juggle sleeping baby tiger and bag upon bag of grocery items.

Do you let the Weight Watchers ice creams bars melt as you deal with the screeching baby, or do you try to juggle both, or do you turn off the car, close the garage door, open the car doors, and run back and forth like a mad woman, dumping grocery bags in the entryway, allowing yourself 3-4 minutes of unloading before you unbuckle the sleeping dragon that is your tired 10 month old?

Why are the simplest things so dang hard when you are doing it alone? Grocery shopping as a military mommy quickly became my least favorite thing in the world....that is until the dog bed story, but that’s another story for another day.

What’s your least favorite everyday task in the world as a military mommy?

Always,
Jesi

Fear

So, we are 4 days in now. Four days into Rob actually being home with us. For good! And not just for a temporary R&R.

It's been wonderful and scary. Wonderful in all the moments where everything feels right. And scary when we think about everything we have gone through. Rob is doing well with readjusting...but even doing well there is still just that. Readjustment.

Some of the things that he is dealing with are trouble sleeping, trouble falling asleep, loss of memory and concentration and being easily irritable. I haven't seen any signs of the easily irritability part, and for that I am so thankful.

Just these few, very normal symptoms of readjustment made me think about what happens when soldiers return with true and severe PTSD. Post Tramautic Stress Disorder is a very serious condition and many of our soldiers are returning with symptoms ranging from those above, to serious withdrawal from familes, spouses and even themselves. Sometimes the normal world just seems too much to cope with.

Just in Rob's very normal readjustment, I feel a tad bit overwhelmed. I want everything to be fine, I want him to be happy and healthy and completely home. Rob has always had an uncanny ability to switch off and on between his civilian life and his military life. So this subtle readjustment is a bit scary. I know in my head that it has to be a lot, to come home to a rambunctious one year old and a crazy wife. But in my heart I just want everything to be normal.

The best thing is that I recognize this as another opportunity. If Rob had a completely perfect homecoming and reintegration, how could I empathize with the wife who deals with a husband who seems completely different, ravaged by the mind game that is PTSD. I know that we will be fine, that Rob is being honest with me and talking me through how he is feeling about everything and I am so grateful for that. Talking is one of the best things that could be happening right now. And he has no trouble expressing his love and appreciation to me and Max and that is a true gift. So I know that God is showing me just glimpses of what the other wife feels like, when she can't reach inside her husbands head and heart and bring him back to what he was.

Just another opportunity to learn about what it truly means to be a military wife and mommy...to learn about the sacrifices we risk, to learn about God's safety when we are fearful.

If you or someone you know is dealing with a soldier with PTSD there is valuable information at this link, http://www.ncptsd.va.gov/ncmain/index.jsp Remember, this is not your fault. Nothing that you did or didn't do CAUSED this. Cling to the hand of your heavenly Father when you are fearful. Pray for healing for your husband, believe in God's word over his life. And seek support and help from the plethora of resources out there for you and your soldier. Normal reintegration and PTSD are nothing to be ashamed of.

Always,
Jesi
Psalm 27:3 Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear.

The Finale

Well, I know my loyal secret readers are eagerly awaiting my Homecoming story so I came out of my reclusive fog to share a bit with you.

Monday morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn, after just a few hours sleep. Max and I decided that 5:30AM would do just fine; after all it was finally here. We were just hours from picking up Daddy!

Off we went, coffee in hand, my parents driving along, and multiple cameras in tow. I decided to wear a cute outfit, new jeans, and a favorite shirt. No dress for me, I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around a dress and heels at the crack of dawn. We got to the college where we were supposed to wait, and wait we did.

Rob’s aunt, his sister and some of his friends made it too. All sitting, and waiting, and laughing at a sleepy Max as my stomach flipped flopped with the nerves that always show up. Finally we heard what we wanted to know, “your soldiers are on the other side of this wall” and the crowd erupted in cheers.

And in they marched, some full of pride and boasting as they waved and smiled, some marching in, just another day to them. Rob walked in finally, chewing gum and looking somber...my tired love. Tired of waiting, tired of travel and tired of dealing with inconsiderate guys who don’t understand how to process homecoming.

Tired and somber, doesn’t matter to me. He looked wonderful, in the uniform and boots that have graced his slimmer figure for months on end. We listened to lots of important reminders, announcements and some lovely accolades but I didn’t hear a thing. I craned and strained to see my love through the crowd, Max on my hip, sleepy from his early wake up call.

Finally, a call to attention and release to their families, a salute for a job well done and off they went. We crowded the floor, eager to see one another and remember how it feels to be together again. I caught Rob’s eye before I touched him. So I waited as we pushed through the sea of chaos and finally.

He was there, I was there, Max was there. A simple hug, a simple smile, a simple kiss. And a lot of pictures.

Hello again, you’re home. And it was wonderful.

I wish I could say the next few hours and days were filled with extraordinary moments but they weren’t. They were filled with tender embraces, laughter and normalcy, creeping back in minute by minute. We are in transition now. Remembering how to be together, reminding ourselves that this is our normal and figuring out how to function as three instead of two. So far, smooth sailing. But readjustment can be scary...because everything that should be the same has changed and things are different now. You have to learn what that means, and you realize that you are entering yet another, New Normal. We are on our way...to our new normal. Taking it day by day, remembering to embrace the changes and cherish the moments...the simplest and most mundane moments, in remembrance of what we lost and what we have to gain. And even in the moments where we question everything that has happened, are you really home? Is this temporary? Is it really over? The smallest whisper, “I love you and I am so glad to be home” makes everything perfect.

For we are on our way, taking it day by day.
Always,
Jesi

The Finale

Well, I know my loyal secret readers are eagerly awaiting my Homecoming story so I came out of my reclusive fog to share a bit with you.

Monday morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn, after just a few hours sleep. Max and I decided that 5:30AM would do just fine; after all it was finally here. We were just hours from picking up Daddy!

Off we went, coffee in hand, my parents driving along, and multiple cameras in tow. I decided to wear a cute outfit, new jeans, and a favorite shirt. No dress for me, I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around a dress and heels at the crack of dawn. We got to the college where we were supposed to wait, and wait we did.

Rob’s aunt, his sister and some of his friends made it too. All sitting, and waiting, and laughing at a sleepy Max as my stomach flipped flopped with the nerves that always show up. Finally we heard what we wanted to know, “your soldiers are on the other side of this wall” and the crowd erupted in cheers.

And in they marched, some full of pride and boasting as they waved and smiled, some marching in, just another day to them. Rob walked in finally, chewing gum and looking somber...my tired love. Tired of waiting, tired of travel and tired of dealing with inconsiderate guys who don’t understand how to process homecoming.

Tired and somber, doesn’t matter to me. He looked wonderful, in the uniform and boots that have graced his slimmer figure for months on end. We listened to lots of important reminders, announcements and some lovely accolades but I didn’t hear a thing. I craned and strained to see my love through the crowd, Max on my hip, sleepy from his early wake up call.

Finally, a call to attention and release to their families, a salute for a job well done and off they went. We crowded the floor, eager to see one another and remember how it feels to be together again. I caught Rob’s eye before I touched him. So I waited as we pushed through the sea of chaos and finally.

He was there, I was there, Max was there. A simple hug, a simple smile, a simple kiss. And a lot of pictures.

Hello again, you’re home. And it was wonderful.

I wish I could say the next few hours and days were filled with extraordinary moments but they weren’t. They were filled with tender embraces, laughter and normalcy, creeping back in minute by minute. We are in transition now. Remembering how to be together, reminding ourselves that this is our normal and figuring out how to function as three instead of two. So far, smooth sailing. But readjustment can be scary...because everything that should be the same has changed and things are different now. You have to learn what that means, and you realize that you are entering yet another, New Normal. We are on our way...to our new normal. Taking it day by day, remembering to embrace the changes and cherish the moments...the simplest and most mundane moments, in remembrance of what we lost and what we have to gain. And even in the moments where we question everything that has happened, are you really home? Is this temporary? Is it really over? The smallest whisper, “I love you and I am so glad to be home” makes everything perfect.

For we are on our way, taking it day by day.
Always,
Jesi

8 Hours and 34 minutes

If I was a counting woman, I would tell you that there are 8 hours and 34 minutes until we get to see Rob...But I'm TOTALLY not counting.

Ok, I am, and make it 33 minutes and 8 hours.

We got to go to another Homecoming Ceremony tonight for Rob's friend Tony. It was incredible, as is every Homecoming, to see families reunited after a long year apart from one another. This life, where we volunteer to give away a precious part of ourselves is never easy.

Even as you welcome your soldier home, you can sense that as much as they hate being away from you, this is a part of who they are, the very threads that form them into the person you love so much. It is a part of their fiber to give of themselves.

It's scary, and admirable, and wonderful and terrible, mixed together like the colors of their dessert uniforms.

Back to counting...8 hours and 30 minutes.

Maybe I should try and sleep...when I awake he will almost be home.
Always,
Jesi

8 Hours and 34 minutes

If I was a counting woman, I would tell you that there are 8 hours and 34 minutes until we get to see Rob...But I'm TOTALLY not counting.

Ok, I am, and make it 33 minutes and 8 hours.

We got to go to another Homecoming Ceremony tonight for Rob's friend Tony. It was incredible, as is every Homecoming, to see families reunited after a long year apart from one another. This life, where we volunteer to give away a precious part of ourselves is never easy.

Even as you welcome your soldier home, you can sense that as much as they hate being away from you, this is a part of who they are, the very threads that form them into the person you love so much. It is a part of their fiber to give of themselves.

It's scary, and admirable, and wonderful and terrible, mixed together like the colors of their dessert uniforms.

Back to counting...8 hours and 30 minutes.

Maybe I should try and sleep...when I awake he will almost be home.
Always,
Jesi

Love Letters

Last night, I was shaken by a simple video on another blog. This video was one of joy, of a father wrestling with his three tow headed boys. They laughed and screamed in delight. I cried. I cried because I hate that we have missed a year of those moments. And I grieved for the families who will miss a lifetime of those moments because their soldier did not make it home safe and sound. I grieved their loss and grieved my own. (I talk more about this on Military Mommy)

It set me in a tailspin to be quite honest. And I went to bed but couldn’t sleep. I missed Rob next to me, even though we are so close. I needed to feel him near me. To have him there so I could reassure myself that we really made it. That he made it home to us.

I can’t call him, even though he is just a state away from me. We have to do some haggling with the phone company so until then he is at the mercy of borrowing phones from his fellow soldiers. He was out of touch from me.

Almost.

I knew where I could find him, where I could hold a piece of him close to me and breathe him in. I risked waking the baby to pull out my scrapbook from high school. Somewhere in the middle pages I found what I was seeking. Two clear page protectors, simple words written across the top. All My Letters from Rob.

From our first separation, we were in a heady fog of young love. Enamored with each other’s very being. I pulled them out and went back to bed. Cross legged in the lamp light I read every one of them. I laughed at Rob’s commentary on the Army, ran my fingers over his letters that spilled out love for me. Unabashed, beautiful, young, hopeful love. Tears trickled down my cheek as I remembered how it felt like the longest, hottest summer of my life. How I couldn’t imagine ever being so far away from him again. I love that they are written by the light of flashlight, at all times of the day and night, on blue Army stationary. Dated and stamped with our feelings for one another. In those letters I read words that made me smile and made my heart large with thankfulness. We wrote about our hopes and dreams, our plans for the future, would we one day be married? With children? Embracing each other every night of our lives. We had only known each other two months before he left. I was only fifteen!

If Rob didn’t read this blog so faithfully I would share some of them, because they are truly an amazing expression of romantic young love. But I love those love letters and that they are just for me. Truth be told they have never been read by anyone but me. I was too young and nervous about the depth of our feelings for one another to share them with anyone else. Not even my closest friends. They were only for me. But I am so glad that I have them, tucked away in a closet, in the midst of a million other memories. I will leave them for the daughter that we will have one day. So that she can read how loving and soft hearted her Daddy really is. So she can feel our love.

Our Love Letters, they warmed my inner being. I hugged them close to me in our bed, his side empty, lacking his ever present warmth.

He will be home soon, but last night he was with me in those love letters. I hugged him close to me, found him there, and breathed in his being. I felt him there with me.
Always,

It Could Be Me

(I want to write a disclaimer, for those who don’t want to hear the really tough stuff. But I can’t think of the words to express myself appropriately, I talk about the death of a soldier in this post so if you need to guard your heart against this post, I understand. Completely understand. Unfortunately this is our reality as Military wives and mommies. So I guess this is the best disclaimer I have)

Last night, I got ready for bed. But before I headed that way I felt the distinct pull of my computer screen so I scrolled through a few blogs. I frequently read a blog called Brandi and Boys from a pastor’s wife in Tennessee. For some reason, I just like this family, even though I have only encountered them through my screen. After reading Brandi’s blog, I went to Pete’s (her husband) and he had posted a video of him roughhousing with their three boys. Three little boys were thrown around and as they screamed and giggled and threw themselves back at their daddy, I cried.

I cried. And they weren’t really tears of joy or sadness but a mix of both. I cried because I haven’t gotten to see Rob throw Max around and hear Max scream in delight. We have missed that and it BROKE my heart last night. I sat and I cried for us missing those moments this past year.

I cried tears of joy, because we are DAYS, DAYS yall, away from Rob being home with us...and even though this year was incredibly difficult, challenging and gut wrenchingly painful at moments, we are almost done. We are almost finished, and in just a few days I will get to sit back and laugh as my husband throws around our child and hear their squeals of delight.

I cried tears of sadness. As I listened to K-Love yesterday I heard a testimony shared. A woman was speaking. She was expressing her thankfulness for the ministry that K-LOVE provides. She was so thankful because that music had helped carry her through when she didn’t think she could take another step. Her husband was killed in Iraq just two months after she recommitted her life to Christ. And she was expressing her thanks for songs like Bring the Rain and Praise You in This Storm. Songs that carried me through our deployment, that gave me comfort when I didn’t think I could make it through another day. But I did make it, and Rob did too. He is back in the United States, waiting to come home, but no longer in the vulnerable war zone that we learned to accept as a part of our story.

That could be me. I could be watching my boys wrestle and play, I could be crying tears of overwhelming pain, I could be, I could be, I could be.

I cried a mix of tears last night. For what we missed, for what we are blessed with, for what is yet to come, that we have a yet to come, for those who were not so lucky, for those who gave their lives for you and me and our safety, for their wives and mothers and children who won’t get to sit back and watch as the boys wrestle and rough house. I grieved for my loss, praised God for Rob’s safety and grieved for everyone who has lost someone.

It was a strange mix of tears that left me in a strange place. And I’m still not sure how I feel about it in the light of morning. Death and Life all mixed together in my tears.

Always,


John 11:35 Jesus Wept.