By now most everyone knows that we are in the midst of a long unaccompanied tour. What I haven't shared is how I'm not feeling. And, here comes the brutally honest, no filter Tiffany everyone says they love. I'm not feeling this smile I wear on my face. That belly laugh you caught me in is not really how I feel. I don't feel like doing anything related to Christmas, I'm not decorating, the tree is not getting put up this year. And, the kids know why so I'm not depriving them of anything. We're going to go spend some time with Santa and friends, and we're going to go drive through Christmas lights, and they are going to have a fabulous holiday regardless of what I'm not feeling. Ya know, "fake it 'til ya make it". Well, I'm about done faking it.
This hurts, it all hurts. To wipe the Littles' tear-filled eyes when they ask "why daddy not come home from his big trip" or when I know Caysen just needs his dad on those rough wrestling days, or when I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and miss his snoring. It is all consuming some days, and I have no desire to even move from the couch. But, then I feel scattered and chaotic and undone. I feel lost and hurt. And honestly, I do not know what to do with all these emotions that I'm not supposed to be feeling because after all, I need to hold it together so it doesn't seem like I'm about to go postal on the little lady who keeps cutting me off in the grocery store aisle. Yes, it happened, it wasn't pretty. Not my proudest moment, I apologized. Move it along. I can't wallow in it, but I'm done denying that it hurts.
In a few short days I'll "celebrate" turning 40. So many people, especially new to our lives people, do not know my family history and why my birthday is not something that I enjoy celebrating. This year is no different. I try really hard to be cheery and John always made sure that my birthday was special and he did an amazing job of reminding that I matter and that I'm loved. Well this year, he's not here to make it all sunshiny and daisies. Throw that on top of the fact that our Texas dates have all been screwed up by the lovely school district holiday break changing. It literally was just a blow I wasn't prepared for and I know we just adapt and overcome. BUT HOW MUCH ADAPTING am I going to have to do this year! I'm done adapting, overcoming is still a work in progress. All of this is just too close to "home". It brings up all these ugly emotions that you know, I just don't feel like processing. Deep inside I know that it's going to happen, and I'll probably just have a massive breakdown, cry fest and move on.
There's nothing really anyone can do outside of praying for me to find some true joy in this dark place I'm residing right now. The one thing I'm looking forward to is the fact John will get to come home for a couple of weeks for Caysen's graduation. But, in the same breath, we'll have to say "see ya later" again, and having to go through all those emotions with the kids again, and having to explain and promise them that their daddy will be back. I play these conversations over in my head. I rehearse what I'll say to them. I'll prepare my heart to not break as much as possible. But, I'm not ready to feel this "close to home".
11 December 2016
25 November 2016
The Instant Pot world
Black Friday was traditionally a day to snag a few big ticket items for far less than retail. However, over the years I've noticed that the "sale prices" are not that spectacular! This year is the exception, and if you've wanted to get in on the Instant Pot Craze this is the day to snag one for about 50% off!
Instant Pot IP-DUO60 7-in-1 Multi-Functional Pressure Cooker, 6Qt/1000W
**Affiliate links included**
Also, Search Facebook for the very helpful and informational Instant Pot Groups for recipes, tips and tricks to make the most out of your Instant Pot! You won't regret this purchase, promise ;)
Instant Pot IP-DUO60 7-in-1 Multi-Functional Pressure Cooker, 6Qt/1000W
**Affiliate links included**
Also, Search Facebook for the very helpful and informational Instant Pot Groups for recipes, tips and tricks to make the most out of your Instant Pot! You won't regret this purchase, promise ;)
17 September 2016
Happy 100 days! It still sucks :)
This last week we hit the 100 day mark into this unaccompanied tour. It's been the longest yet shortest 100 days that I've ever experienced. Outside of Murphy's law typical stuff nothing major has happened. Speaking of good ole' Murphy here's the run down:
A) The washing machine is definitely laughing at us, the spin cycle is best described as Sybil.
B) The Weedeater died, finally.
C) The leaf blower died.
D) Hank ate a bouncy ball and needed surgery to remove it.
Overall, I have learned that I really am not an introvert, homebody, and I've had enough alone time to last the rest of my life. I am far too much of a people person to ever be this isolated and alone. For all intents and purposes, I am a single mom to three kids. One is an 18yr old and self-sufficient. The Littles are great, don't get me wrong. But, I am much older than I was when I was a single mom with Caysen. Having two littles is much more difficult to manage than it was just having one, and I'm tired. Don't get me wrong, my friends are amazing, our new church family is AWESOME, but ya know, it's just different here. So, today, I broke down on John. We told each other how we wanted to be honest throughout this process even if it meant saying some 'hard truths'. Today was my day to say this really sucks, like really big time sucks. The reality is; I am super jealous that John isn't here anymore. And, by here, I mean Knoxville TN. Seriously, this place is like no other. I'm not the only spouse that feels this way, rest assured I'm not griping. I'm pointing out the obvious. Don't get me wrong, he's not in a great place, living it up, but he does get to interact with humans, and adults and he has a really cool, important job over there and well ya know, I'm over here wiping butts, tears, being an UFC ref, and slinging food at two minions all day, every day.
I am busy. We have co-op classes every Friday and on the 1st Tuesday of every month and 3rd Thursday of every month. I am the president of Caysen's (for new readers, he's our 18 yr old senior) NJROTC unit booster club, so it's not lack of keeping busy. It's the sheer fact that John isn't here to carry some of the burden. It's exhausting. I want to do so many things, but I can not for the life of me find my rhythm. Maybe I'm in a funk, I'm not sure. First time experience with 2 small kids single mom thing and let me tell ya, it's hard. I just don't even know where to begin. I get overwhelmed thinking about having to list the house and get it ready to hit the market all by myself. I'm not anywhere ready. I know what has to be done, BUT for the life of me, I don't where to start.
Like what am I willing to part with out in the garage. I already gave most of paint, all my pallets to a friend. I have 4 projects sitting out there staring at me. And, if I'd get them done, we would have room in the garage. I have all the Christmas crap boxed, I'm tempted to sell it as a "Lot" of Christmas stuff, but then I know I'll regret it when I have to buy everything back. But, I just can't. I think I need to actually write out a plan and execute it. Start in one room and move to the next. And, actually make some headway through the house. There's touch up painting, packing up non essentials and stacking them in a corner of a room. Maybe that will make me feel better to see some progress. I need a goal, and an end in sight.
Today was hard. Tomorrow will likely be hard too. Monday will likely be a beast and we will trudge on. I miss you babe. I know it's all worth it in the end. I hope it's all going to be worth it. I don't regret our decision. I regret thinking I was strong enough to endure it without tears.
A) The washing machine is definitely laughing at us, the spin cycle is best described as Sybil.
B) The Weedeater died, finally.
C) The leaf blower died.
D) Hank ate a bouncy ball and needed surgery to remove it.
Overall, I have learned that I really am not an introvert, homebody, and I've had enough alone time to last the rest of my life. I am far too much of a people person to ever be this isolated and alone. For all intents and purposes, I am a single mom to three kids. One is an 18yr old and self-sufficient. The Littles are great, don't get me wrong. But, I am much older than I was when I was a single mom with Caysen. Having two littles is much more difficult to manage than it was just having one, and I'm tired. Don't get me wrong, my friends are amazing, our new church family is AWESOME, but ya know, it's just different here. So, today, I broke down on John. We told each other how we wanted to be honest throughout this process even if it meant saying some 'hard truths'. Today was my day to say this really sucks, like really big time sucks. The reality is; I am super jealous that John isn't here anymore. And, by here, I mean Knoxville TN. Seriously, this place is like no other. I'm not the only spouse that feels this way, rest assured I'm not griping. I'm pointing out the obvious. Don't get me wrong, he's not in a great place, living it up, but he does get to interact with humans, and adults and he has a really cool, important job over there and well ya know, I'm over here wiping butts, tears, being an UFC ref, and slinging food at two minions all day, every day.
I am busy. We have co-op classes every Friday and on the 1st Tuesday of every month and 3rd Thursday of every month. I am the president of Caysen's (for new readers, he's our 18 yr old senior) NJROTC unit booster club, so it's not lack of keeping busy. It's the sheer fact that John isn't here to carry some of the burden. It's exhausting. I want to do so many things, but I can not for the life of me find my rhythm. Maybe I'm in a funk, I'm not sure. First time experience with 2 small kids single mom thing and let me tell ya, it's hard. I just don't even know where to begin. I get overwhelmed thinking about having to list the house and get it ready to hit the market all by myself. I'm not anywhere ready. I know what has to be done, BUT for the life of me, I don't where to start.
Like what am I willing to part with out in the garage. I already gave most of paint, all my pallets to a friend. I have 4 projects sitting out there staring at me. And, if I'd get them done, we would have room in the garage. I have all the Christmas crap boxed, I'm tempted to sell it as a "Lot" of Christmas stuff, but then I know I'll regret it when I have to buy everything back. But, I just can't. I think I need to actually write out a plan and execute it. Start in one room and move to the next. And, actually make some headway through the house. There's touch up painting, packing up non essentials and stacking them in a corner of a room. Maybe that will make me feel better to see some progress. I need a goal, and an end in sight.
Today was hard. Tomorrow will likely be hard too. Monday will likely be a beast and we will trudge on. I miss you babe. I know it's all worth it in the end. I hope it's all going to be worth it. I don't regret our decision. I regret thinking I was strong enough to endure it without tears.
08 August 2016
The Shirt
To say these last two months have been trying would be an understatement. But, these last two months really did fly by. So much so, that we didn't accomplish nearly as much as I had intended. Many days were spent just lounging and trying to wrap my head around the fact that I wouldn't be able to see John for over a year. Some days, I was out running errands, having play dates, dinner with friends, church, and everything in between to just help keep my mind occupied. Many years ago, 10 to be exact, I joined an online support forum for military girlfriends. I remember reading about how girlfriends, fiances, wives would stick a shirt that their husband had worn in a ziploc baggie and keep it sealed until they needed a reminder of him. Sounded pretty creeptastic to me, let's be honest, men don't always smell the greatest. But, I decided to participate and see just how this worked. On Friday night, netflix binging Private Practice, during an episode that was pretty emotional, I realized that I was beginning to forget things about John. You're likely thinking "How horrible" or "How could she". But, let me tell ya, when your life, for the last 2 months, has revolved around 2 small children, a teenager, and just attempting to maintain a level of normalcy, little things like how he smells escapes you.
I wasn't sure what to expect. I'm pretty sure I was more concerned that the shirt would stink and I would start dry heaving. And, long ago I read articles that our sense of smell is the sense that is strongest for memory. I have experienced that in so many situations. Such as walking into hospitals, for years after my surgery and complications, I could not stand the smell of a hospital. Particularly the smell of hospital rooms, and the cleaners and the hand sanitizer they use. Walking into Eglin for every OB appt with the Littles was so difficult. They had the most disgusting smelling hand sanitizer. When you almost die, and you've been through something that traumatic, those scents are sometimes crippling. Every time I walk into a hospital, I would immediately flash back to that horrific time in our lives. But, then there are smells that remind me of Texas, of my momma's house, of my childhood. And, those are the memories I cherish. I had asked John to give me the shirt he had on the weekend before he left. I sealed it up in a gallon size storage bed, and slid it under the bed. I'm pretty sure he thought I had gone officially cray cray, as the Littles say. But, I wanted to see what the fuss was about 10 years ago when I thought it was pretty cray cray.
I sat on the bed, ziploc bag in hand, I unzipped it, pulled it out and put it up to my face. Tears immediately welled up in my eyes. I seriously couldn't stop them. I just sat there, crying, and realizing just how much I had missed him. He took his body wash with him. I've obviously changed the sheets several times, and he's not here. I had forgotten. But, for those few moments, my heart was filled with every joyful memory of our past. The first time he took me to see the Atlantic ocean on my 30th birthday. The night he came with plane tickets to fly to WV so his uncle could marry us. The day he came home after a 25 hour shift and fell into my arms because of the case he'd worked was so heart wrenching and draining all he could do was lay there. The day he didn't recognize me at his homecoming from Afghanistan and he just kept walking. The days he cheered Caysen on the ball field and wrestling matches, that he'll miss every single one this year. The day we welcomed the Littles into this world. Memories that I visit occasionally, but in a flash all those treasured moments overwhelmed every fiber of my being. For the first time in a long time, I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I sobbed. I slid the shirt back in the bag, squished all the air out and sealed it. It's back under the bed.
It's just your basic grey graphic t-shirt. Just a shirt he'd lounge around the house in. But, for those few minutes, it was him, right here with me.
I wasn't sure what to expect. I'm pretty sure I was more concerned that the shirt would stink and I would start dry heaving. And, long ago I read articles that our sense of smell is the sense that is strongest for memory. I have experienced that in so many situations. Such as walking into hospitals, for years after my surgery and complications, I could not stand the smell of a hospital. Particularly the smell of hospital rooms, and the cleaners and the hand sanitizer they use. Walking into Eglin for every OB appt with the Littles was so difficult. They had the most disgusting smelling hand sanitizer. When you almost die, and you've been through something that traumatic, those scents are sometimes crippling. Every time I walk into a hospital, I would immediately flash back to that horrific time in our lives. But, then there are smells that remind me of Texas, of my momma's house, of my childhood. And, those are the memories I cherish. I had asked John to give me the shirt he had on the weekend before he left. I sealed it up in a gallon size storage bed, and slid it under the bed. I'm pretty sure he thought I had gone officially cray cray, as the Littles say. But, I wanted to see what the fuss was about 10 years ago when I thought it was pretty cray cray.
I sat on the bed, ziploc bag in hand, I unzipped it, pulled it out and put it up to my face. Tears immediately welled up in my eyes. I seriously couldn't stop them. I just sat there, crying, and realizing just how much I had missed him. He took his body wash with him. I've obviously changed the sheets several times, and he's not here. I had forgotten. But, for those few moments, my heart was filled with every joyful memory of our past. The first time he took me to see the Atlantic ocean on my 30th birthday. The night he came with plane tickets to fly to WV so his uncle could marry us. The day he came home after a 25 hour shift and fell into my arms because of the case he'd worked was so heart wrenching and draining all he could do was lay there. The day he didn't recognize me at his homecoming from Afghanistan and he just kept walking. The days he cheered Caysen on the ball field and wrestling matches, that he'll miss every single one this year. The day we welcomed the Littles into this world. Memories that I visit occasionally, but in a flash all those treasured moments overwhelmed every fiber of my being. For the first time in a long time, I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I sobbed. I slid the shirt back in the bag, squished all the air out and sealed it. It's back under the bed.
It's just your basic grey graphic t-shirt. Just a shirt he'd lounge around the house in. But, for those few minutes, it was him, right here with me.
22 July 2016
When pigs fly
How many of us love that old adage "when pigs fly"? Oh how I love it, and to celebrate my love for telling people I'll vote democratic ticket, or I'll give up Krispy Kreme donuts for life when pigs fly, I decided to jump into the crazy cultish world of Lularoe! I kept seeing these awesome prints, friends raving about how comfortable they were, and I kept telling them "when pigs fly, I'll pay $25 for leggings when I can buy a pair for $7 at Ross".
Ladies, I'm here to tell you, Pigs Fly and they've never looked more cute doing it! I should totally add that I grew up on a pig farm. My first pig that I showed through 4-H was affectionately named Tackleberry. Yes, Tackleberry from the old movie Police Academy. He was my favorite. And, there I go showing my age. Least to say, my Texas country roots run super deep, and I'm by no means wanting to jump back into farm life. But, I'm fairly sure my husband has a different idea, and I foresee us having lots of chickens, cows, a big garden (which I'll likely kill everything in it), and a couple of horses. If it were up to him, we'd totally live off the grid, have a bunker and not see any other humans unless we absolutely had to. He sometimes forgets who he married and knows I need civilization and I am not fond of losing electricity or water from the reliable source.
I was really not ever going to buy leggings that cost as much as the last handbag I purchased which has lasted two years and is still going strong! But, I saw these and HAD TO HAVE THEM! I put two Lularoe fanatic friends on high alert and they came through for me! I love that the consultants are very generous with their giveaways, some even run special discounted prices for a short sale, and no shipping costs on occasions. I've been added to about 20 groups for Lularoe, and ya know, not a single consultant has been pushy, rude or annoying. As someone who has been an independent insurance agent, and involved in direct sales companies, non pushy, annoying consultants are a requirement.
For those who do not know, I'm pretty stinking frugal. And, honestly I never buy anything really fun and not a necessity for myself. I have three kids, their needs/wants totally trump mine, but I will say I have zero regrets about buying these leggings. Plus, you know what, it's really nice to support a small business owner. Lularoe is the new rage. It's really an awesome company. The start up costs are too much for my pocketbook, but I love supporting women making it on their own and doing something they love. These leggings are totally worth the cost. They are seriously the softest pair of leggings I've ever owned. They do have a seam, but you can't feel it and it doesn't rub on your legs. The prints are A D O R A B L E. I even did the panty check. Bend over and make sure your panties are not seen through the material. All you over 30 women know this is a necessity. And, all us moms know we spend more time bending over picking stuff up off the ground than we do any other chore. I wear long tunics, shirts or even a short dress over leggings to ensure that I follow the "be decent because no one needs to get to second base via your clothing choices", but inevitably, I'll end up bending over or stretching and BAM the panties are visible to the world. Not with the Lularoe line, at least not the darker background choices. Of course, I imagine if you pick a light color pair with dark panties, they'll show through. That's sort of a common sense thing, and if you do that either you're a sleep deprived mom or you just don't care if everyone sees ya panties.
Lularoe seriously has something for everyone and in every size. The most impressive pieces other than the leggings are the shirts/tops. I've noticed that none of the shirts are lacking in the arm sleeve department. You know what I'm talking about, those stupid 1/3 of a sleeve that all our arms hang out of. Well except those girls with great arms. High five to ya, I lost 130lbs 7 yrs ago, then had two babies, gained some back and my arms are not made for sleeves that do not count as sleeves. I truly love the Irma and Randy shirts thus far. I do not own any yet, but maybe Christmas presents? Hint Hint Nudge Nudge family members! All of the coordinating pieces in their shirts, skirts and dresses are really adorable as well. I have not delved into the world of their other products, but I can say that I totally would if I wasn't on a budget and on a mission to pay off the house more before we leave next summer.
I just wanted to share my excitement in finding leggings that exceeded my expectations, and honestly, I do not want to take them off. Hope everyone is staying cool in this massive heat wave moving across the country. We've been cooped up today because the weather is just miserable, the heat index was 99 around 1pm and the Air Quality suggested we stay indoors.
Until next time friends, CHEERS!
**P.S.** I was NOT in any way compensated for this blog post. I purchased the leggings with my own funds. I did not win these in a giveaway nor was I given a pair for free in exchange for a review. All the opinions expressed are my own.**
Ladies, I'm here to tell you, Pigs Fly and they've never looked more cute doing it! I should totally add that I grew up on a pig farm. My first pig that I showed through 4-H was affectionately named Tackleberry. Yes, Tackleberry from the old movie Police Academy. He was my favorite. And, there I go showing my age. Least to say, my Texas country roots run super deep, and I'm by no means wanting to jump back into farm life. But, I'm fairly sure my husband has a different idea, and I foresee us having lots of chickens, cows, a big garden (which I'll likely kill everything in it), and a couple of horses. If it were up to him, we'd totally live off the grid, have a bunker and not see any other humans unless we absolutely had to. He sometimes forgets who he married and knows I need civilization and I am not fond of losing electricity or water from the reliable source.
I was really not ever going to buy leggings that cost as much as the last handbag I purchased which has lasted two years and is still going strong! But, I saw these and HAD TO HAVE THEM! I put two Lularoe fanatic friends on high alert and they came through for me! I love that the consultants are very generous with their giveaways, some even run special discounted prices for a short sale, and no shipping costs on occasions. I've been added to about 20 groups for Lularoe, and ya know, not a single consultant has been pushy, rude or annoying. As someone who has been an independent insurance agent, and involved in direct sales companies, non pushy, annoying consultants are a requirement.
For those who do not know, I'm pretty stinking frugal. And, honestly I never buy anything really fun and not a necessity for myself. I have three kids, their needs/wants totally trump mine, but I will say I have zero regrets about buying these leggings. Plus, you know what, it's really nice to support a small business owner. Lularoe is the new rage. It's really an awesome company. The start up costs are too much for my pocketbook, but I love supporting women making it on their own and doing something they love. These leggings are totally worth the cost. They are seriously the softest pair of leggings I've ever owned. They do have a seam, but you can't feel it and it doesn't rub on your legs. The prints are A D O R A B L E. I even did the panty check. Bend over and make sure your panties are not seen through the material. All you over 30 women know this is a necessity. And, all us moms know we spend more time bending over picking stuff up off the ground than we do any other chore. I wear long tunics, shirts or even a short dress over leggings to ensure that I follow the "be decent because no one needs to get to second base via your clothing choices", but inevitably, I'll end up bending over or stretching and BAM the panties are visible to the world. Not with the Lularoe line, at least not the darker background choices. Of course, I imagine if you pick a light color pair with dark panties, they'll show through. That's sort of a common sense thing, and if you do that either you're a sleep deprived mom or you just don't care if everyone sees ya panties.
Lularoe seriously has something for everyone and in every size. The most impressive pieces other than the leggings are the shirts/tops. I've noticed that none of the shirts are lacking in the arm sleeve department. You know what I'm talking about, those stupid 1/3 of a sleeve that all our arms hang out of. Well except those girls with great arms. High five to ya, I lost 130lbs 7 yrs ago, then had two babies, gained some back and my arms are not made for sleeves that do not count as sleeves. I truly love the Irma and Randy shirts thus far. I do not own any yet, but maybe Christmas presents? Hint Hint Nudge Nudge family members! All of the coordinating pieces in their shirts, skirts and dresses are really adorable as well. I have not delved into the world of their other products, but I can say that I totally would if I wasn't on a budget and on a mission to pay off the house more before we leave next summer.
I just wanted to share my excitement in finding leggings that exceeded my expectations, and honestly, I do not want to take them off. Hope everyone is staying cool in this massive heat wave moving across the country. We've been cooped up today because the weather is just miserable, the heat index was 99 around 1pm and the Air Quality suggested we stay indoors.
Until next time friends, CHEERS!
**P.S.** I was NOT in any way compensated for this blog post. I purchased the leggings with my own funds. I did not win these in a giveaway nor was I given a pair for free in exchange for a review. All the opinions expressed are my own.**
12 July 2016
Hitting the proverbial wall
I was half expecting this stage to hit me far earlier. I really thought I was going to be lucky and skim right over it since I hadn't hit the wall yet. But, low and behold, yesterday afternoon I hit the proverbial wall. In one sense, it's an entire relief. In another, I have to accept that it's just one of many. Hitting the proverbial wall, the tears fall, the hurt consumes, and the missing him is just too much. Many people, friends and family, know that we are not the romantic, squishy, blow up social media about how much we love each other. We're probably the furthest thing from being lovey dovey. We just don't love that way. Please Lord, don't let anyone get offended by that statement. I don't care if that's how you and yours love, we just don't and we really don't understand it. You might see or hear once to twice a year about how he's the peanut butter to my jelly or I'm his better half. But, really we just love each other as God commands us to love.
Yesterday was just hard. The kids have cabin fever, horrible, antagonizing one another, pinch, pin down, bounce on one another cabin fever. Last Thursday, I took Tatum to the ER for what is now being deemed a "reactive airway disease" episode. So, she's been on house arrest and when one is down, we're all down. The Littles are just being Littles, but I was at my wit's end. Caysen said "mom, calm down". Not the smartest comment, but I didn't yell. I just broke. I cried and told him to think back to when we were first here and how much he hated it, how much he hated Bearden high, how much the people suck here, and how alone, isolated, no friends, no one caring, how all that felt. We all hated it. I think deep down inside, we all still hate it and won't feel any better until TMO is here packing us out and heading to Texas. I just kept crying. It was like my soul poured from eyes and my mouth just couldn't stop. I told him about how the housework was overwhelming, how the kids won't help keep their toys up, how I clean then it's destroyed an hour later. I apologized for unloading all that on him because really it's not his fault, it's not his problem to deal with, but he listened attentively, he understood, and I finally felt like I had been peeled off the wall.
This morning I woke up to this note taped to the front door:
He worked yesterday from 5pm-9pm. Came home to find us all asleep already. I'm pretty sure we were all knocked out by 8:45pm. He cleaned the entire downstairs and the kids' bedrooms. I sat on the bottom step and just cried and thanked Jesus for giving me such a sweet child. We've had some really rocky months since March, and we've battled back to liking one another. We love each other. But, believe me, there's been plenty of days where we absolutely can't stand to even look at one another. Caysen Blake, you are the best kid in the world. I know we fight, I know we scream sometimes, but you really helped heal a hurt by your selfless act of cleaning house for me. And, if that wasn't enough, I walked into the kitchen to find these on the refrigerator door:
So very confused, I pulled the door open to find these:
He made pancakes y'all. Pancakes! Breakfast for the kids and me already done. The best part is that we are out of eggs, so at 2am his girlfriend brought over some eggs because we're out of applesauce too. Did I mention that I haven't really been grocery shopping in the 5ish weeks that John has been gone? I've ran by the store for miscellaneous stuff, but not a true trip to the store. Don't get me wrong, we've had plenty of food. But, stuff I never run out of, well we've been out of it. I stood in the kitchen bawling like a baby again. And, the Littles were so excited to have pancakes for breakfast. We were also pretty low on milk (in my defense no one drinks cow's milk except for John and occasionally Caysen will have cereal) so he had to use half cow's milk and half almond milk.
When I share that this assignment is by far the most difficult we've had, it is not an exaggeration. There are a lot of different factors and it's really too many to list. But, for the first time in my 39.5 years, I can honestly say that I am alone 95% of my time. I have two wonderful friends that I get to meet with once weekly for dinner and a bible study. I don't get out of the house without kids in tow more than that on a weekly basis. I've even broken down to hire a sitter so I can have a few hours to myself occasionally. But, to be honest, with my plan to save and build our nest egg during this time, I haven't really utilized the sitter but one time to get my hair cut. I'm by no means looking for pity, sympathy or anything. I'm simply sharing that this is a very lonesome time in my life. I told Caysen yesterday that at least when his dad was home, I had him. I had him at night to share about his day, to talk about all the stuff the kids did, how great they're progressing on little pre-k lessons and how art/music class is going. And now, I do not have him. Sure we get to talk, and facetime, but that's been cut down to a couple of times a week and the connection is spotty most of the time. Not that I am complaining at all. It's just not enough. I've binged watched a few series in the last few weeks and I think my brain is fried from the copious hours of telvision my eyes have seen. I know it will get better. I know we will settle into somewhat of a schedule. Once school starts again, ROTC booster club president responsibilities will kick in again. Along with those meetings, deadlines, volunteer opportunities, my time will be filled with other stuff to distract from the loneliness. After all, it's Caysen's senior year. The checklist for this year makes my brain hurt. But, I'm so excited and sad all rolled into one big momma heart mess. He's graduating and that will be an entirely separate blog update. But, for now, I'm in a place that is completely foreign to me. I don't know how to navigate these treacherous waters of emotions. And, I surely don't know how to even say "help me" because at the end of the day, all I want is for my husband to be home.
For now, when someone is hurting don't pity them. Dig deep into your heart, remember a time when you were hurting and pray for them. Don't just show up on my doorstep. I'm really weird when John is gone. I will not answer the door unless I'm expecting you. Other military wives know why and I'm not going into detail. But, random knocks on the door or the doorbell ringing sends me into panic mode, and sitting there waiting for whoever it is to leave seems like an eternity. One day I'll look back at this time and realize that it was for a bigger purpose than I was able to see when I was trudging through it. I know that the testimony that will come from this 15 months will help someone else know they aren't so alone. We will come out on the other side of this better and stronger. In my heart of hearts, I am going to survive this difficult season and will celebrate the tiny victories along the way. For right now, crying is the best medicine.
Yesterday was just hard. The kids have cabin fever, horrible, antagonizing one another, pinch, pin down, bounce on one another cabin fever. Last Thursday, I took Tatum to the ER for what is now being deemed a "reactive airway disease" episode. So, she's been on house arrest and when one is down, we're all down. The Littles are just being Littles, but I was at my wit's end. Caysen said "mom, calm down". Not the smartest comment, but I didn't yell. I just broke. I cried and told him to think back to when we were first here and how much he hated it, how much he hated Bearden high, how much the people suck here, and how alone, isolated, no friends, no one caring, how all that felt. We all hated it. I think deep down inside, we all still hate it and won't feel any better until TMO is here packing us out and heading to Texas. I just kept crying. It was like my soul poured from eyes and my mouth just couldn't stop. I told him about how the housework was overwhelming, how the kids won't help keep their toys up, how I clean then it's destroyed an hour later. I apologized for unloading all that on him because really it's not his fault, it's not his problem to deal with, but he listened attentively, he understood, and I finally felt like I had been peeled off the wall.
This morning I woke up to this note taped to the front door:
So very confused, I pulled the door open to find these:
He made pancakes y'all. Pancakes! Breakfast for the kids and me already done. The best part is that we are out of eggs, so at 2am his girlfriend brought over some eggs because we're out of applesauce too. Did I mention that I haven't really been grocery shopping in the 5ish weeks that John has been gone? I've ran by the store for miscellaneous stuff, but not a true trip to the store. Don't get me wrong, we've had plenty of food. But, stuff I never run out of, well we've been out of it. I stood in the kitchen bawling like a baby again. And, the Littles were so excited to have pancakes for breakfast. We were also pretty low on milk (in my defense no one drinks cow's milk except for John and occasionally Caysen will have cereal) so he had to use half cow's milk and half almond milk.
When I share that this assignment is by far the most difficult we've had, it is not an exaggeration. There are a lot of different factors and it's really too many to list. But, for the first time in my 39.5 years, I can honestly say that I am alone 95% of my time. I have two wonderful friends that I get to meet with once weekly for dinner and a bible study. I don't get out of the house without kids in tow more than that on a weekly basis. I've even broken down to hire a sitter so I can have a few hours to myself occasionally. But, to be honest, with my plan to save and build our nest egg during this time, I haven't really utilized the sitter but one time to get my hair cut. I'm by no means looking for pity, sympathy or anything. I'm simply sharing that this is a very lonesome time in my life. I told Caysen yesterday that at least when his dad was home, I had him. I had him at night to share about his day, to talk about all the stuff the kids did, how great they're progressing on little pre-k lessons and how art/music class is going. And now, I do not have him. Sure we get to talk, and facetime, but that's been cut down to a couple of times a week and the connection is spotty most of the time. Not that I am complaining at all. It's just not enough. I've binged watched a few series in the last few weeks and I think my brain is fried from the copious hours of telvision my eyes have seen. I know it will get better. I know we will settle into somewhat of a schedule. Once school starts again, ROTC booster club president responsibilities will kick in again. Along with those meetings, deadlines, volunteer opportunities, my time will be filled with other stuff to distract from the loneliness. After all, it's Caysen's senior year. The checklist for this year makes my brain hurt. But, I'm so excited and sad all rolled into one big momma heart mess. He's graduating and that will be an entirely separate blog update. But, for now, I'm in a place that is completely foreign to me. I don't know how to navigate these treacherous waters of emotions. And, I surely don't know how to even say "help me" because at the end of the day, all I want is for my husband to be home.
For now, when someone is hurting don't pity them. Dig deep into your heart, remember a time when you were hurting and pray for them. Don't just show up on my doorstep. I'm really weird when John is gone. I will not answer the door unless I'm expecting you. Other military wives know why and I'm not going into detail. But, random knocks on the door or the doorbell ringing sends me into panic mode, and sitting there waiting for whoever it is to leave seems like an eternity. One day I'll look back at this time and realize that it was for a bigger purpose than I was able to see when I was trudging through it. I know that the testimony that will come from this 15 months will help someone else know they aren't so alone. We will come out on the other side of this better and stronger. In my heart of hearts, I am going to survive this difficult season and will celebrate the tiny victories along the way. For right now, crying is the best medicine.
22 June 2016
For such a time as this
There's not really much to be said that hasn't been covered a million times over in the last 12-15 years due to the climate of war and unrest in various parts of the world. So many articles to tell us how we are supposed to manage this time apart, so many opinions on what works best for this given situation, well I'm here to tell ya, nothing really prepares you for it. Even though we had a solid 6 months to prepare, make lists, spend as much time together as possible, I wasn't and I'm still not ready. This last weekend marked 2 weeks since he's been gone, and it finally hit me just how long he's going to be away. There won't be a "mid tour", he should be able to take a couple weeks of leave next year close to Caysen's graduation, and I keep looking at this timeline, and I'm overwhelmed. I have struggled with being present in the very day, in that very moment and it's catching up with me emotionally.
Many friends know that I jokingly dismiss any emotional hardships we might deal with while apart because I'm "so independent" and "so do not need him" and "I'll pack his bags, it's time to go". Let's call a spade a spade, it really sucks him being gone. And, it's not this "oh my husband, my love, my heart isn't home". It's the sheer lack of his presence. We had a solid routine, he was my Netflix buddy. And, after a long day filled with toddler and pre-schooler chatting, I long for adult interaction. So much so that we would just sit in each other presence and just enjoy having one another to talk about our day, the little things that happened. It hit me this weekend that I miss him the most at night. Not because we were a cuddly, snuggle, spooning type of couple, I actually hate being touched when I sleep, we had separate blankets because he steals the covers, it really boils down to the fact that I do not have another adult to talk to, and when I get around adults I feel like I never stop talking. So, I apologize if you see me in the near future and I just ramble on about how I painted Tatum's nails three times in one week or how Ashton has figured out pants are not required unless we are outside and how he has mastered sneaking out back to pee on the tree. And, deep down inside, I'm entirely jealous that John has new people to hang out with, that he's doing new and cool things, and that he's happy.
In all our time here, I've made it no secret that I've struggled with friendship. I've struggled with all the stuff that has transpired, all the lies and slanderous gossip that has really destroyed me to my core. If someone was looking to hurt me, I'd like to say "Congratulations, You've succeeded"! For those who have taken the time to really get to know me, outside of what has been speculated or gossiped about, ya know actually growing a pair and having a hard conversation with me, asking those hard questions, know that about 85% of the past 2 years I have been completely misunderstood. As for every single last one one of them, I could not care less about what they think of me. In all of this, the lesson I have learned is to entirely lean on Jesus, dig into His word, seek peace and comfort from no one other than my Savior.
Talk about growth, and for the first time, recognizing that all the events, hurts, disappointments, God removing "friends" from my life, allowing people to "hate" me for something I absolutely had nothing to do with, everything that has happened was simply preparing me for such a time as this. In this present, right now, I do not have anyone who I can talk, see, laugh with, in person, on the daily. Please don't feel pity or think I'm remotely looking for "aww you poor thing". I'm filling our time with field trips, park trips, plenty of projects around the house, crafts and spending time with the three friends that I cherish dearly. There really was a plan in all of it. A plan I couldn't see or even predict. I really did believe I was ready for a long separation, but ha ha jokes on me. No matter how much I fill my time, nothing and I mean nothing can replace the lost companionship that I had with John. When the kids are in bed, the house is so quiet. I even sort of miss his snoring, no really it has been my "normal" for nearly 9 years. He was my constant, and my consistent supporter, my sounding board. Most of all he kept me on an even kilter when I was ready to unreel. You can read all the articles, you can plan for each "stage", you can ask friends for advice on how they managed, yet something will sneak up on you and knock the wind out of your sail. This weekend, I realized exactly what I was feeling.
Thank you to the friends who never gave up. Even when I told everyone I was fine. A couple of friends saw right through those thinly veiled lies, reached for my hand, hugged me, and in those moments I knew I could trust them. I knew they'd be here, help me shoulder this burden, right here , right now, in my present, in my hurt and loneliness, and they'd remind of the good in the world that only they can offer. Intentional and genuine friendship deeply rooted in truth, love and above all grace. One day, I hope those who don't know that level of friendship, those who don't have that type of friendship, not only find it, but embrace it when it's right there in front of them. I'm so thankful that God had a bigger and better plan. I'm so grateful that I didn't give up when it was really hard. When I was in the dark, cold valley, I could have never seen "today". From the top of the mountain, I can clearly see the "why" and now I know that everything is going to be okay. We will make it. We will leave this place unscathed and stronger. We will move on and our time here will be a distant memory. Lessons learned, hardships endured, anger and bitterness gone, and above all we will walk in God's will courageously through all of it.
Until next time. . .
P.S.
I had told myself that I was going to regularly blog in a way to get back to "me". As a writer, an oversharer sometimes, and just a place to lay out all my thoughts. So, no promises, but I do plan on weekly or bi-weekly posts.
Many friends know that I jokingly dismiss any emotional hardships we might deal with while apart because I'm "so independent" and "so do not need him" and "I'll pack his bags, it's time to go". Let's call a spade a spade, it really sucks him being gone. And, it's not this "oh my husband, my love, my heart isn't home". It's the sheer lack of his presence. We had a solid routine, he was my Netflix buddy. And, after a long day filled with toddler and pre-schooler chatting, I long for adult interaction. So much so that we would just sit in each other presence and just enjoy having one another to talk about our day, the little things that happened. It hit me this weekend that I miss him the most at night. Not because we were a cuddly, snuggle, spooning type of couple, I actually hate being touched when I sleep, we had separate blankets because he steals the covers, it really boils down to the fact that I do not have another adult to talk to, and when I get around adults I feel like I never stop talking. So, I apologize if you see me in the near future and I just ramble on about how I painted Tatum's nails three times in one week or how Ashton has figured out pants are not required unless we are outside and how he has mastered sneaking out back to pee on the tree. And, deep down inside, I'm entirely jealous that John has new people to hang out with, that he's doing new and cool things, and that he's happy.
In all our time here, I've made it no secret that I've struggled with friendship. I've struggled with all the stuff that has transpired, all the lies and slanderous gossip that has really destroyed me to my core. If someone was looking to hurt me, I'd like to say "Congratulations, You've succeeded"! For those who have taken the time to really get to know me, outside of what has been speculated or gossiped about, ya know actually growing a pair and having a hard conversation with me, asking those hard questions, know that about 85% of the past 2 years I have been completely misunderstood. As for every single last one one of them, I could not care less about what they think of me. In all of this, the lesson I have learned is to entirely lean on Jesus, dig into His word, seek peace and comfort from no one other than my Savior.
Talk about growth, and for the first time, recognizing that all the events, hurts, disappointments, God removing "friends" from my life, allowing people to "hate" me for something I absolutely had nothing to do with, everything that has happened was simply preparing me for such a time as this. In this present, right now, I do not have anyone who I can talk, see, laugh with, in person, on the daily. Please don't feel pity or think I'm remotely looking for "aww you poor thing". I'm filling our time with field trips, park trips, plenty of projects around the house, crafts and spending time with the three friends that I cherish dearly. There really was a plan in all of it. A plan I couldn't see or even predict. I really did believe I was ready for a long separation, but ha ha jokes on me. No matter how much I fill my time, nothing and I mean nothing can replace the lost companionship that I had with John. When the kids are in bed, the house is so quiet. I even sort of miss his snoring, no really it has been my "normal" for nearly 9 years. He was my constant, and my consistent supporter, my sounding board. Most of all he kept me on an even kilter when I was ready to unreel. You can read all the articles, you can plan for each "stage", you can ask friends for advice on how they managed, yet something will sneak up on you and knock the wind out of your sail. This weekend, I realized exactly what I was feeling.
Thank you to the friends who never gave up. Even when I told everyone I was fine. A couple of friends saw right through those thinly veiled lies, reached for my hand, hugged me, and in those moments I knew I could trust them. I knew they'd be here, help me shoulder this burden, right here , right now, in my present, in my hurt and loneliness, and they'd remind of the good in the world that only they can offer. Intentional and genuine friendship deeply rooted in truth, love and above all grace. One day, I hope those who don't know that level of friendship, those who don't have that type of friendship, not only find it, but embrace it when it's right there in front of them. I'm so thankful that God had a bigger and better plan. I'm so grateful that I didn't give up when it was really hard. When I was in the dark, cold valley, I could have never seen "today". From the top of the mountain, I can clearly see the "why" and now I know that everything is going to be okay. We will make it. We will leave this place unscathed and stronger. We will move on and our time here will be a distant memory. Lessons learned, hardships endured, anger and bitterness gone, and above all we will walk in God's will courageously through all of it.
Until next time. . .
P.S.
I had told myself that I was going to regularly blog in a way to get back to "me". As a writer, an oversharer sometimes, and just a place to lay out all my thoughts. So, no promises, but I do plan on weekly or bi-weekly posts.
24 February 2016
When I say I'm totally prepared, it's all a big lie!
Most everyone is aware that my husband will be "deploying/PCS'ing" in the coming weeks for a 15 month unaccompanied tour. Least to say, for the last 4 months, I have been in complete denial. Even though I knew he was leaving, we agreed it was a great career move, we prayed over it long before he applied, I still hadn't embraced the absolute truth that he's leaving. Now that the movers are scheduled, my email is blowing up with confirmations, details etc, I just click "READ" and move onto the next email. As I look to the next year, I am all over the place. There's this ever elusive feeling that I'm attempting to embrace, but stumbling through the emotions is all I seem to do these days. In one moment, I'm at the "hurry up and take off so we can get this over with", the next moment "please don't leave yet, I don't want you to miss _____".
I don't know what it is about this situation that is all that different than his last deployment. Maybe it's because of the Littles and all the stuff he's going to miss Caysen's senior year of high school. I simply can't put my finger on it. Caysen was nearly 11 yrs old and could comprehend all the details during our last deployment. Maybe it's my heart is broken that I agreed to this assignment, maybe it's just my weak, insecure heart that keeps telling me that there's no way I'll make it through this without pushing away everyone I love including John or completely falling apart in the process of trying to hold it all together. It's exhausting trying to navigate through all the feelings and I find myself nitpicking just to pick a fight. It's a heck of a lot easier to say "See ya later" if I'm mad at him. It's easier to just withdraw and not focus on the real reason I'm acting out like a toddler who has lost their favorite blankie.
When asked "what do you need?", I honestly have no answer. I have no idea what I need or what kind of support I'll need. Please don't be offended if I tell you nothing, please don't push or force me to talk about it. When I need to, I will. Fair warning, I don't know how to ask for help or reach out and say "hey, I'm struggling" no one knows what to do when someone admits to being at their breaking point. I'm not a hugger or a crier, I don't know how to even remotely tell someone that I'm struggling. I refuse to accept defeat, and I won't fail during this time in our lives, but I'm not sure how I'll do it. Just know that when I say I'm ready for this, it's a lie. I'm not ready for my husband's belongings to be packed up and sent overseas. I'm not ready to run a household without him. I'm not ready for any of it. I'm definitely not ready to answer the question of "when is my daddy coming home" or "why is daddy gone". I really thought I was ready. I've read all the resiliency articles. I've talked to other spouses who have endured an unaccompanied tour. I've reached out to those who know these feelings and the one commonality in all of it is; no one is ready for it. And, that feeling of not being ready is all consuming because it's happening right in front of us, and there's no changing it. Not being ready isn't an option. I want to be ready. I want to be strong and stoic, but I know myself well enough to know that my being ready will never be ready enough to face this head on. My heart hurts as we prepare for the movers to come in a couple of weeks. As we sort through our existing kitchen stuff, linens, purchase a bed, sort through clothes that he'll take and ones he'll leave behind. I have totes full of stuff for the movers to pack, and as the weeks have flown by, I sat in the floor and cried looking at this stuff because I really thought I was ready. It's not going to be easy, but they promised it would be worth it.
I don't know what it is about this situation that is all that different than his last deployment. Maybe it's because of the Littles and all the stuff he's going to miss Caysen's senior year of high school. I simply can't put my finger on it. Caysen was nearly 11 yrs old and could comprehend all the details during our last deployment. Maybe it's my heart is broken that I agreed to this assignment, maybe it's just my weak, insecure heart that keeps telling me that there's no way I'll make it through this without pushing away everyone I love including John or completely falling apart in the process of trying to hold it all together. It's exhausting trying to navigate through all the feelings and I find myself nitpicking just to pick a fight. It's a heck of a lot easier to say "See ya later" if I'm mad at him. It's easier to just withdraw and not focus on the real reason I'm acting out like a toddler who has lost their favorite blankie.
When asked "what do you need?", I honestly have no answer. I have no idea what I need or what kind of support I'll need. Please don't be offended if I tell you nothing, please don't push or force me to talk about it. When I need to, I will. Fair warning, I don't know how to ask for help or reach out and say "hey, I'm struggling" no one knows what to do when someone admits to being at their breaking point. I'm not a hugger or a crier, I don't know how to even remotely tell someone that I'm struggling. I refuse to accept defeat, and I won't fail during this time in our lives, but I'm not sure how I'll do it. Just know that when I say I'm ready for this, it's a lie. I'm not ready for my husband's belongings to be packed up and sent overseas. I'm not ready to run a household without him. I'm not ready for any of it. I'm definitely not ready to answer the question of "when is my daddy coming home" or "why is daddy gone". I really thought I was ready. I've read all the resiliency articles. I've talked to other spouses who have endured an unaccompanied tour. I've reached out to those who know these feelings and the one commonality in all of it is; no one is ready for it. And, that feeling of not being ready is all consuming because it's happening right in front of us, and there's no changing it. Not being ready isn't an option. I want to be ready. I want to be strong and stoic, but I know myself well enough to know that my being ready will never be ready enough to face this head on. My heart hurts as we prepare for the movers to come in a couple of weeks. As we sort through our existing kitchen stuff, linens, purchase a bed, sort through clothes that he'll take and ones he'll leave behind. I have totes full of stuff for the movers to pack, and as the weeks have flown by, I sat in the floor and cried looking at this stuff because I really thought I was ready. It's not going to be easy, but they promised it would be worth it.
16 February 2016
Baseball mom to Wrestling mom, say what? ? ?
For as long as I could remember, I knew I'd be a baseball mom. Caysen played ball for more than decade, and overall, I always saw him making it to the college baseball world. His passion, dedication, hours of practice and sheer love of the game really shined in our last couple of years in Florida. Those kids with NYSA were amazing, some of our best friends were baseball families and I cherish and treasure those memories. Even getting kicked out of the bleachers and banned from the fields was totally worth it. Once we got orders to TN, we knew he'd be at a serious disadvantage being the "new kid". But, we had no idea how deeply political and ridiculous the baseball world is here. I really couldn't believe all the ridiculousness that we witnessed first hand. But, we trudged through, learned some valuable life lessons and here we are 2 years later, and we're a bonafide wrestling family.
I went into this sport EXTREMELY jaded. I had no idea how it would be for Caysen. I was entirely put off by all the funky skin, fungus, sweat, staff infections, impetigo, cauliflower ear, injuries that could happen. Well, Caysen being Caysen didn't wait long to break us into the injury world. The first match of the PRE season, he suffered a concussion, a few weeks later a sprained ankle and a dislocated jaw. Least to say, I was ready for him to throw in the towel. If it weren't for his coach, I'd put my foot down and ditch wrestling. John had to reign in the "momma" mode on several occasions. But, this last weekend, I saw a a young man take to the mats and battle it out with everything he had to qualify for the state tournament. WHAT, the WHAT? My kid going to state, first year wrestler? Yep, to say that I totally stoked for him is an understatement. Seriously, I had no idea we'd be traveling to the state tournament.
In all of this chaos, the one monumental lesson we've all learned is that God will open the doors, and we have to be willing to walk through those doors. The doors to baseball were slammed shut time after time yet we kept opening them. He still played last summer with a travel team. He busted his hump for that team, he worked so hard, he was in a pitcher only position and pinch ran most of the season. But, nearing the end of the season his coach finally let him play left field (his other position) because of his dedication and his willingness to put in the work. I cried for him. I longed for his talent to be recognized and for him to play the sport that made him the happiest. All this time, I knew that baseball wasn't going to pan out regardless of how many lessons we paid for, regardless of who we knew or didn't know. We weren't an "in" family and didn't have tens of thousands of dollars to throw at the program to buy our kid a place on the roster. I know it happens in every state, town, league. I get it. My heart still hurt for my child.
Least to say, resiliency is very apparent in our son. He took on a completely new to him sport his junior year of high school. He will letter for his effort, dedication and his record. You know I could go on and on about how much I really hate this sport, but that would be an utter lie. I love it because he loves it. I love what wrestling has taught him. I love seeing him on the mat. I love watching him execute new moves flawlessly, and above all, I love watching him and Coach Hampshire talk after a win or a loss. I love watching him grow as a young man because he's chasing after something that brings him true happiness. To see him happy is my ultimate goal, to protect him in pursuit of that happiness is my job. This summer, he will be traveling to Georgia for a 10 day wrestling camp with some of the most elite wrestlers in the country. We can't wait to see where this path leads us all!
I went into this sport EXTREMELY jaded. I had no idea how it would be for Caysen. I was entirely put off by all the funky skin, fungus, sweat, staff infections, impetigo, cauliflower ear, injuries that could happen. Well, Caysen being Caysen didn't wait long to break us into the injury world. The first match of the PRE season, he suffered a concussion, a few weeks later a sprained ankle and a dislocated jaw. Least to say, I was ready for him to throw in the towel. If it weren't for his coach, I'd put my foot down and ditch wrestling. John had to reign in the "momma" mode on several occasions. But, this last weekend, I saw a a young man take to the mats and battle it out with everything he had to qualify for the state tournament. WHAT, the WHAT? My kid going to state, first year wrestler? Yep, to say that I totally stoked for him is an understatement. Seriously, I had no idea we'd be traveling to the state tournament.
In all of this chaos, the one monumental lesson we've all learned is that God will open the doors, and we have to be willing to walk through those doors. The doors to baseball were slammed shut time after time yet we kept opening them. He still played last summer with a travel team. He busted his hump for that team, he worked so hard, he was in a pitcher only position and pinch ran most of the season. But, nearing the end of the season his coach finally let him play left field (his other position) because of his dedication and his willingness to put in the work. I cried for him. I longed for his talent to be recognized and for him to play the sport that made him the happiest. All this time, I knew that baseball wasn't going to pan out regardless of how many lessons we paid for, regardless of who we knew or didn't know. We weren't an "in" family and didn't have tens of thousands of dollars to throw at the program to buy our kid a place on the roster. I know it happens in every state, town, league. I get it. My heart still hurt for my child.
Least to say, resiliency is very apparent in our son. He took on a completely new to him sport his junior year of high school. He will letter for his effort, dedication and his record. You know I could go on and on about how much I really hate this sport, but that would be an utter lie. I love it because he loves it. I love what wrestling has taught him. I love seeing him on the mat. I love watching him execute new moves flawlessly, and above all, I love watching him and Coach Hampshire talk after a win or a loss. I love watching him grow as a young man because he's chasing after something that brings him true happiness. To see him happy is my ultimate goal, to protect him in pursuit of that happiness is my job. This summer, he will be traveling to Georgia for a 10 day wrestling camp with some of the most elite wrestlers in the country. We can't wait to see where this path leads us all!
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