tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85936633892618405492024-02-19T23:31:25.456-08:00Between Two Worlds: His Stripes, Our DutyColeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-19678965872153897062011-10-11T08:29:00.000-07:002011-10-11T08:29:55.226-07:00Dear Deployment, Quit Making Me Hormonal!<center> </center><center>My husband and I have 2 beautiful daughters, 4 and 18 months. We have already decided at some point in the future that we would like to expand our future. We had thought we might try around Christmas this year, BUT then deployment orders came through. :(</center><center> </center><center> Once we got orders, we sat down and decided to postpone TTC. My husband missed my entire pregnancy with our oldest daughter and barely made it to her birth. He said he hated that and doesn't want to miss it again, especially the birth. Plus, he said this is just not good timing with the deployment. It would mean being pregnant alone, birth alone, taking care of the girls pregnant, and then raising 3 kids alone (one being a newborn).</center><center><br />
</center><center>At that time I agreed with him. Get where I am going with this? AT THAT TIME, I agreed with him.</center><center><br />
</center><center> Now, I am so confused. I have baby fever out the wazoo. And while I hear what he is saying, agree with the rationalizing of it, etc. I still can't help what my hormones are screaming at me! </center><center><br />
</center><center>So right now I am torn and at a crossroad. I don't know what we should do. Is there ever a perfect time for anyone? </center><center> </center><center>I guess the better question is "Is there ever a perfect time for military families?" Isn't there always going to be another deployment, another training, another fill-in-the-blank? </center><center><br />
</center><center>And with the crazy short deployment rotations, it leaves these questions even harder to answer. Any of you fellow military spouse bloggers ever been in this position? What helped you make your decision?</center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><center> </center><center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-85585103552722997612011-09-29T07:24:00.000-07:002011-09-29T07:24:46.477-07:00Dear Deployment, I'm still alive!<center></center><center> </center><center> </center><center> Sorry its been a while since I blogged, but we have had school things, soccer, gymnastics, lots of sickness, and just overall getting ready for fall busyness. But I am still here and alive. </center><center><br />
</center><center>I have a small confession to make. I am a little excited about having a going away and coming home ceremony. I know, I know, that probably sounds really odd. But, you have to understand that with Air Force/Air National Guard deployments, probably 70% of the time, there aren't ceremonies. <br />
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With our last deployment (1st deployment), my husband left in a public airport, in civilian clothes, with 4 other guys. And he came home the same way. There wasn't any hoopla or excitement. It was like he was coming home from a business trip. A very odd feeling. <br />
</center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So this time, I am a little excited to have the big ceremony. We are in a new unit, a fighter unit, so this a mass deployment of 300+ people. I have been on the hunt for ideas on what my girls could wear for when he leaves and comes home. I am thinking pillowcase dresses for departure and tutus and personalized shirts for when he comes home. Any ideas from any of you readers?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
And I have been looking for ideas for signs and how to get banners for when he comes home. Yellow ribbon on our big front tree and a yellow ribbon wreath for the door will be a must too!</div><center> </center><center> BUT, honestly, I think this is just my way of trying to sike myself up for this. My way of trying to find a healthy way to think about it without dwelling on it. Whatever it is, it is making me feel better right now.</center><center> </center><center> We should find out in the next couple weeks how long my husband will be gone. He is also hoping to get a new position on base, so keep your fingers crossed for that one. Might be a while before I post again. We have a big air show this weekend, so I am looking forward to just relaxing. </center><center> </center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-10393874611023984852011-09-18T11:44:00.000-07:002011-09-18T11:44:09.505-07:00Dear Deployment, I have a plan!<center> </center><center>I have a plan to survive this. I will survive this.</center><center> </center><center> I have decided to spend some time up north with my mother in law after my husband leaves. By the time we get back home, it will be time for my oldest to start kindergarten. I am hoping by staying gone and busy before school, it will make time go by faster. I am also putting my youngest in a mothers day out program, just so mommy gets a break!</center><center><br />
</center><center>I feel confident having a plan. I think between the busyness of life and my expert timing of how I am doing things, the time will just fly bye.</center><center><br />
</center><center>BUT for now, until he leaves, I am all about preparing. I plan to spend my cold, winter days getting my house in tip top shape. I am going to organize like crazy, clean like crazy, and freshen up around here as much as I can. </center><center><br />
</center><center>I also think we are going to work on the house to make sure its left in the best shape for me to handle as well. So I guess I am off to make my winter list, I have to find the silver lining in something!</center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-29466911727092398132011-09-08T07:43:00.000-07:002011-09-08T07:43:10.493-07:00Dear Deployment, leave me alone for a while<center></center><center></center><center></center><center> </center><center>It Happened. I finally BROKE yesterday.</center><center> </center><center> I was doing so good at being strong, or at least appearing strong on the outside. But there is just something about those church doors that make you instantly lose your poker face and turn into a blubbering, snot faced mess. </center><center><br />
</center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><center>I just couldn't handle it.</center><center> </center><center> All of sudden all of my fears and insecurities flooded onto me like a tidal wave. I couldn't control it. I literally felt like I was physically drowning sitting in that pew. I knew I was going to explode if I didn't get out of there FAST. So I left the building and once alone outside, I literally ran to my car. There in my car, finally free to be me, I just sobbed. and sobbed. and sobbed.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I just had to get it out. All the fears. All the realities. It all reared it's ugly face and finally surfaced its way out. </center><center><br />
</center><center>Once I got it out, I did what every military wife does. I got my make-up compact out, fixed my face, and went back inside to sit strongly next to my airman. </center><center><br />
</center><center>I just kept praying "Lord, you gave me this hand and I will survive it by Your grace, But right now I feel like I am drowning. Please give me peace, give me a lifeline. Give my anything"</center><center><br />
</center><center>After we got home, I just told Ry to hold me. Make me feel safe like he always has. It must have worked because for the first time since the news broke, I slept.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I am feeling better this morning. Maybe I just needed to release? I did wake up with my "stress belly" back in full force. You know, the I am going to puke any second feeling? So I did what I always do when emotions are overtaking me. I took the hottest shower I could stand. There is just something about the HOT water that reminds me I am still alive, suck it up, and LIVE.</center><center><br />
</center><center>So, today I am taking my girls for a picnic. We are just going to enjoy our day together, without worry.</center><center><br />
</center><center>PS> I will post some pics of my fam soon. That way you can finally meet moi, Ry, Little Bear, and Love Bug.</center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-23855546487472639172011-09-07T04:32:00.000-07:002011-09-07T04:32:32.066-07:00Dear Deployment, now ya makin me crazy!<center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center> </center><center> Yep. I did it. The BIG no-no.</center><center> </center><center>I googled where my husband is going.</center><center> </center><center>I know! I know! That is a sin among military wives, BUT I just had to see. Or at least I thought I did. Now I am even more sick to my stomach purely based off of the news stories that popped up. </center><center> </center><center>I am still so numb by it all. </center><center><br />
</center><center>All day I couldn't wait until my husband was home so I could get lost in his arms for a while. I just wanted to get away from it. Go somewhere safe where Afghanistan, Al Qaeda, RPG, KIA, etc. didn't exist. He has always been my escape destination. </center><center> </center><center>But instead, I found myself angry at him once I actually saw him. I don't know why. I guess it was just my brain's way of processing? It's way of dealing with it the best that I could. I don't know why I was mad, but I just simply was. </center><center><br />
</center><center>I wonder if fear translates itself into anger sometimes? I didn't feel anger until I committed the ultimate sin and set out to research the location. And then it all hit me like a ton of bricks. I begin thinking </center><center>"What if he doesn't come back?" </center><center>"What would I tell the girls?"</center><center>"How would I make it?"</center><center> "What do I tell them now?"</center><center>"How do I explain DEPLOYMENT to a child?"</center><center><br />
</center><center>I am pretty sure at this point I just shut down. </center><center> </center><center>Until I had a brief moment of the "how can I get him out of this" brainstorming session. Since, logically that is the next step, right??? And I am not just some crazy psycho wife, RIGHT!?!?!</center><center><br />
</center><center>I finally snapped out of it enough to grab some cuddle time with my favorite airman. I tried hard to savor the moment, but it was just so bittersweet.</center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-69123832953683837592011-09-06T12:29:00.000-07:002011-09-06T12:29:41.691-07:00I'm Back! With some new (unfortunate) things to say<center>You are probably thinking "Where the heck has she been!" Well, life got crazy and I got writer's block. So I took a small break. But I am back! And I am back with a new mission in mind.</center><center><br />
</center><center>Starting today my blog will become more of a journal. A journal of the real, raw feelings of a military wife. As I begin this first entry for the "new" blog, you will understand why the change.</center><center><br />
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</center><center>Dear Deployment, I hate you!</center><center><br />
</center><center>That's right ladies, we got the call this morning. My husband is being deployed to A-stan. We always knew there was a possibly, but I somehow had fooled myself into thinking we would be the lucky ones.</center><center><br />
</center><center>It all started last week, my husband was at a conference in another state. News had broke on base that the rumors were true and now official. A very large numbers of airmen would be deployed next summer. According to the press release, all those who were going had already been notified. We were relieved (although I must add that my husband was a little upset about being "left behind"). We thought we had beat the odds! My husband had not received any kind of notice. As I rejoiced for my family, my heart hurt for the other families of the unit.</center><center><br />
</center><center>My husband returned to base this morning to begin what he thought would be another typical day at work. Instead, he was greeted by some people who wanted to give him the dreaded news in person. They told him he was not notified last week because of his travel, but that he was one of the many being deployed. I am sure at that point my husband thought "how am I going to tell her after all the relief this weekend?"</center><center><br />
</center><center>I slept in with girls this morning. I was excited to start our day because tomorrow is our oldest daughter's first day of Pre-K. I just wanted to enjoy our official last day of summer together. I called my husband to tell him good morning and apologize for not getting up with him this morning. As soon as he answered I knew something was wrong by the tone of his voice. He said, "I have to tell you something you are not going to like"</center><center><br />
</center><center>My heart sank. I instantly knew. Deployment had shown her ugly face again.</center><center><br />
</center><center>"Honey, I am on the list. I am going. I am so sorry"</center><center><br />
</center><center>I felt numb. I felt like throwing up. I had so many thoughts, so many questions, yet all I could do is be quiet. He told me he would email me details, but that he had to go. I was still just silent.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I immediately opened my email. There it was. Black and White. The dreaded word.</center><center><br />
</center><center>AFGHANISTAN </center><center><br />
</center><center>He gave me all the need to know details of when he knew he would be gone for trainings, where at, how long. And then just the barebone details of the actual deployment. He told me it would sometime next summer. We still aren't sure of the exact amount of time he will be there, but we do have a pretty good idea.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I just sat and cried. </center><center><br />
</center><center>All I could think about was time. The time we had left. The time he would be gone. The milestones and holidays he would miss out on. </center><center><br />
</center><center>Then it jumped to our girls. How do I tell them? Our oldest turned 2 two days after he deployed last time. She doesn't remember. Now she will be 5 1/2. She will be old enough to know but not understand. He will miss her first day of kindergarten. Our youngest will be almost 2 1/2 when he leaves. What will he miss of hers? </center><center><br />
</center><center>Then I think, "can I even do this?" "Am I strong enough" "Am I up for this?"</center><center><br />
</center><center>As the kids fought all morning, cried over the wrong cup, broke down over crust on sandwiches, etc. You know all the things that are of course indications of the end of world. I just felt like breaking down with them. It made me want to go hide somewhere and not come out. </center><center><br />
</center><center>I have been through deployment before. I know this is all typical of the shock stage. But right now, its just too real to be reasonable or logical. </center><center><br />
</center><center>We are lucky to know so far in advance, but then again are we? Does it give us more time to prepare or to dread? I guess time will tell on that one. Right now, I just have to take a deep breath and find a way to pull it together. I have to pull it together for my girls and for husband. That is my duty to my country. And hopefully this "I am going to throw up" phase will pass soon. </center><center><a href="http://s118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/?action=view&current=white-square.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-84792444943868428262011-04-28T08:12:00.000-07:002011-04-28T08:12:53.853-07:00I'm Alive!!!!<center> </center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I know its been a while but I am still ALIVE! I have just had some writer's block and a busy life lately. But now I am back! I know you are ALL soooo relieved!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ok, so for my thoughts of the day. Are you ready for this?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Why do we as adults still desperately and secretly seek our parents approval on our lives? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">We say it doesn't matter what they think or say about our choices, but deep down it really does. The reality is we want them to be proud, to be impressed, to be happy with the lives we are choosing for ourselves and our families. And even though it might not affect our decision or choice directly, it does indirectly because their disapproving looks and words are in the back of our minds.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am sure for my military spouse followers all of this is ringing a bell? As military spouses, many of our own family do not understand why we have made this choice for ourselves. They don't understand why we choose to to live a life that requires us to be alone so much. Why we chose to take on being the rock of the family, being the one who has to do a lot more work in partnership. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">They respect and appreciate our husbands, their sacrifice, their own freedom. BUT they don't understand our sacrifice. They don't see our sacrifice as fair to us. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Our sacrifice is how we serve our country though. No, we don't have a uniform or rank. But we serve our country in a such a special way. We enlisted when we said I do, plain and simple. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, now I am rambling. Ok back on topic, I don't know how we go there. Parents. As adults we are free to make our own choices. But some of those choices get tainted, they get the joy and excitement sucked right out of them because our parents don't approve. Does it ever get better? Do we ever stop seeking their approval?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-58458703035165233482011-04-18T19:02:00.000-07:002011-04-18T19:02:38.835-07:00Why can't the world stop for us?<center></center><center></center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><center> I write tonight's post with a heavy heavy heart. The last couple of days have been spent reflecting on my past journey with grief and just life and grief in general. You see a very dear friend of mine suffered a miscarriage this week. Now I have never suffered a tragic loss of a child, but I have suffered from my share of unbearable grief.</center><center><br />
</center><center>My mom was killed a little over 5 years go. And she was the center of my life at the time, my rock. I went through some really rough and dark times. My grief almost consumed my life, it did take over for a good 2 years. But, this isn't about me, that was just background info :)</center><center><br />
</center><center>Ok back to the topic, I was able to go and spend some time with my friend tonight. And I was reminded of a few things. I remember at the beginning of my grief journey it seemed like I was on pause and the world was in fast forward. I couldn't understand why the world wasn't stopping with me. Why, How could people go on living their lives like normal, smiling, laughing. Didn't they get that I was numb, that I wasn't ready to "move on" How could they all be such inconsiderate jerks!</center><center><br />
</center><center>Now I realize of course it was because those people were strangers. They didn't know what was going on in my world, inside of me. They had no idea that I was crumbling inside right before their eyes.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I reflect today on all of this and consider a notion, "Is grief and loss everywhere?"</center><center><br />
</center><center>How do you know that your check out girl or postman or fellow mother at the park isn't going through some loss that is horrific to them? On the outside they look at least sane, but on the inside they could be consumed with a reality so harsh they feel like they are gasping for breath.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I know death and loss are a part of life, that they make you stronger, they make you appreciate more. But the bottom line is they SUCK.</center><center> </center><center>All you want is to be normal, to be back to the before. But you feel robbed of your past and of your future. </center><center> </center><center> </center><center>You can probably only relate if you have felt a loss that strong. A loss that rocks your entire foundation. </center><center> </center><center>I am not leaving you readers with a question tonight, but just a suggestion. </center><center> </center><center>Consider this next time you see a random stranger somewhere. What if there world is crumbling inside? What if they are suffering from something that is shaking them to the core? </center><center><br />
</center><center>What could YOU do right then to maybe make life easier? </center><center><br />
</center><center>It might be something as simple as being polite to someone who is serving you or making small talk to a mom who is alone at waterpark. That simple action could help that silent sufferer more than you ever know. I know it always did me. </center><center><br />
</center><center></center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-43872675235034732342011-04-12T19:38:00.000-07:002011-04-12T19:38:55.772-07:00The great debate: Minivan vs suvI have finally reached the breaking point...I am considering a minivan *cringe*<br />
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I have always been an suv girl, in fact I always said I would walk before driving a minivan! But, now that we have 2 crazy girlies running around glitterizing our entire existence, I am discovering my suv might not be as practical as I thought. And now that we are hoping to add number 3 within the next year, well you get the picture.<br />
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I love my suv, it even has 3rd row, but I realized 3rd row in an suv with carseats is practically useless. And if you use it, forget about trunk space! Soooo, I find myself browsing dealerships online, looking at minivans, and actually wanting one! I never would have guessed I would want a minivan. I am suppose to be the cool mom, the hip mom....what's happening to me? Am I really picking function over image?<br />
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In order to help me ease the pain of this evolving that has taken place I have convinced myself 1. Minivans are cool now, swagger wagon anyone? And I stand by this statement 2. They are so much more functional and let's face it, with 2 kids in carseats that is ALL that matters anymore, 3. Automatic doors are awesome with a capital A and 4. I will always be the cool, hip mom. period, no exceptions! Or at least until my girls hit teen hood and decide I am the dumbest person who ever looked their way.<br />
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So what are your thoughts? SUV or minivan?<br />
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I just cant help but think am I turning into the crunchy, soccer mom? Here's to hoping the mom jeans don't follow ;) <br />
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<center><a href="http://s118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/?action=view&current=white-square.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a></center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-90114833347945866442011-04-07T19:50:00.000-07:002011-04-07T19:50:05.685-07:00Vows...are they really forever anymoreyes, I do still exist! It's been way too long since I blogged, but life snuck up on me this past week. I completed my first 5k (in 33 minutes I might add), sold our old house, and my husband might be transferring bases and becoming full time ANG. So busy is an understatement. <br />
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Now to get deep and philosophical, or at least as philosophical as I get. <br />
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I am a total history nerd. Now that I have admitted that I can admit this: I have been watching the kennedys mini series this week. Yes, I know how bad the reviews were but I just love this stuff. It is so awesome to watch this famous family and their journey through tragedy and accomplishments. Anyway to stay on topic I should mention it shows how JFK and his father were basically man whores during the first couple episodes. And that is putting it nicely. They cheated, their wives knew they cheated, and they all accepted it as part of their marriage. This flabbergasted me. Could this ever really work? <br />
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I mean, I know couples who do this. Who know and accept on going and continuous infidelity. But is that really even considered a marriage? Do vows mean anything anymore?<br />
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we vow to stay married, to stay faithful, to stay even when it flat out sucks ( except I think its a little more poetic than that) but how many actually keep those vows now? <br />
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I think about our marriages as military marriages. We are kind of known for a high infidelity rate. We see a lot of absence, distance, and loneliness. Does it really make us stronger? Or is that just what we tell ourselves in order to make it through, to survive.<br />
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So where is all of these ramblings going- well I don't really know. Infidelity among the military is rampant. We all know someone whose spouse has cheated while deployed, tdy, or at some school. But why is it so rampant? Why is so hard for some to stay faithful<br />
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What are your thoughts? Is it harder for military or just our society in general now. Is it because of the way we devalue families? Have we have lost all respect for the vows? I feel like all we are taught is how marriages should bring you happiness. Well sometimes marriage blows, but you can't give up then. You have to realize marriage isn't suppose to be paradise, it's suppose to be a journey of growth. We as a society must begin to teach a younger generation that marriage is not about me or romance or those fuzzy feelings<br />
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A friend of mine read a quote somewhere about how marriage isn't about bringing you happiness, it's about bringing you holiness.<br />
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I think if we got back to the basics and started really portraying marriage for what it is, we would have a lot less divorce. I am so sick of seeing the endless love story in movies. That is not real! Marriage is so far beyond that. It is a mature love. I hope to show my girls that a true love isn't always fuzzies and romancing, but simplicity sometimes.<br />
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For me, marriage is realizing he puts the coffee on in the morning so you can sleep an extra 5 minutes. It's no longer ALL roses and chocolates (those that is nice Ry ;) ), but instead a simple act that makes your day better. It's selflessness to the tee. <br />
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<center><a href="http://s118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/?action=view&current=white-square.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-84663840637207052402011-03-28T18:12:00.000-07:002011-03-28T18:12:52.448-07:00Why is it so easy to be negative?<center></center><center></center><center>Some of my favorite bloggers and I have decided to keep the creative juices flowing by posting about a topic of the week. This week's topic is:</center><center> </center><center> Why is being positive so much harder than being negative in life?</center><center> </center><center>This topic was so hard for me to address, partly because I am really struggling with this lately. My simple answer is that we take for granted our blessings in life. We are so spoiled in this country that we believe that our blessings are a right, they are expected. We forget that the daily things we enjoy could so easily be taken away from us in a flash. I think this is what makes us negative, coming from a land of opportunity. </center><center> </center><center>Being negative is EASY </center><center><br />
</center><center>I have seen and heard stories of people on mission trips who encounter natives that are so happy just living day to day. They live in shacks, with mud floors, 1 meal a day, but they are happy because they are safe. They are together as a family. Why can't that simplicity make us happy? Well, because we are spoiled. </center><center><br />
</center><center>I think it is so much easier to look around and see what we don't have. What isn't going just perfect in our lives. What our neighbors have that we don't. What we don't seem to have enough of.</center><center><br />
</center><center>You have to remind yourself daily of all the great and wonderful things you see in your life all the time. You have to dig to really find happiness in the simplicity of life. I think we, as a society, don't want to put forth the effort to dig. We have to make it a point to do so. Can we ever truly get past our blinded view and actually just accept simplicity as happiness?</center><center><br />
</center><center>So I am challenging myself to dig daily. I am stepping back for a while from the stress of life and trying a new approach. I am just going to LIVE. I am going to enjoy the day for what it has to bring. I am going to not sweat the small stuff. Life is too short.</center><center><br />
</center><center>Life is simple. LIVE! LOVE! ENJOY!!!!</center><center> </center><br />
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<center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-69355623837646270782011-03-27T19:25:00.000-07:002011-03-27T19:25:30.839-07:00OMG Bawl Fest (Army Wives, so spoiler alert)<center> </center><center> I just watched tonight's episode of Army Wives and talk about a bawl fest. I am literally sick to my stomach. I just feel like throwing up. I feel like I just experienced so many emotions that I never knew I had. And I know some of you are saying, "Gosh, it is JUST a TV show!"</center><center><br />
</center><center>Yes, it is just a TV show, but it just made every military wife and mother face their worst fear imaginable. I know our husbands signed up for this job and we knew all the risks. But, that is a risk that we push out of our heads. We don't think about those things, we can't. We can't let ourselves go there, but tonight we were forced to.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I only have daughters, but I am a mother. I can not fathom that pain of burying a child. The pain of knowing someone killed my baby. It just makes me sick thinking about it. I just can't even go there.</center><center><br />
</center><center>This episode was more than that though. We saw a military funeral. That is something that is hard to even visually see. The flag. Taps. 21 Gun salute. It is all things that we pray we never ever have to sit through. Knowing that because of who we are, military wives, that we could be sitting in that spot at anytime is just too much. </center><center><br />
</center><center>Like I said we can't let ourselves go there</center><center><br />
</center><center>I am going to go cuddle with my Ry tonight. Soak in every last drop of him because I can. And pray the prayer of every military wife out there </center><center><br />
</center><center>Oh Lord, Please protect my husband from his enemies,</center><center>Keep him safe always,</center><center>Give me courage and peace while he is away,</center><center>And time to enjoy him while he is home</center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><center><br />
</center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-86541957506042742512011-03-27T15:16:00.000-07:002011-03-27T15:16:54.992-07:00Quarter Life Crisis?<center></center><div style="text-align: center;">I feel myself changing lately, maybe it is getting a little older or a quarter life crisis, who knows? But what I once thought of as important or aspiring no longer seems relevant. What is the deal with that? What is making me change? This is what I am talking about....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I always wanted (as snooty as it sounds) the big fancy house. I pictured lots of square feet, marble, huge open rooms, HGTV anyone? That is what I could see myself loving life in. But now that isn't what I see in my dreams. I am content with our average subdivision, 4 bedroom, ranch style house. Where I use to focus on when we could move to a newer, better house....now I find myself just wanting to make my current house cozy. Whoa! Cozy? Who am I?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I say cozy I mean I want my flowerbeds full of fresh flowers, hanging baskets on the porch, and a fresh herb and berry garden in the back. I want my girls to be able to water flowers and go pick a homemade bouquet at any time. To feel PEACE when they walk in our home. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Instead of worrying about how HGTV my house looks on the inside, I am more concerned with it being a place of serenity now for my kids and my husband. I just wonder whats changed in me?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And it is not just my house, it is everything. I find myself just wanting to give more and more of myself to my husband lately too. I recently posted about how out of no where my dreams of having this big important career changed into this strong powerful desire to stay home with my girls. I find my relationship with my husband evolving too.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I use to be more about what is fair for me in our marriage. It was all about are we doing an equal amount of work? How many days will I have to man this house alone? How can you make up for my feelings of loneliness and overwhelmingness (yeah, its a word in Coley land). But now I am getting to a point in my life and marriage where I want to make my husband feel fulfilled.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am finally at a spot where I am OK and actually accept without whining (ok, very little whining) when he has to go. I use to hate the military, all I could see was the negative and how much it disrupted my life. But now I see our military service as privilege and honor. I am finally able to look past the bad and see all that it has provided for my family. And that has made my marriage so much stronger. It feels good to know that distance means nothing, time apart means nothing, and that our marriage is finally about us, not our circumstances.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My husband is military. That is just who he is and will always be. Until I was able to realize and ACCEPT that, our marriage was at a standstill. It was in a rotten place full of jealousy, resentment, and all those ugly, not so fuzzy, feelings no one tells you about. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So back to original question: Why am I changing? I don't know to be honest with you. I don't know what has happened to me in the last 6 months, but it has definitely been life altering. Has anything like this ever happened to you? Where you wake up one day and realize I am not the same person? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">But I am OK with that?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-66270312213221719922011-03-24T21:20:00.000-07:002011-03-24T21:20:48.197-07:00It seems as if the pendulum is going backwards<center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center> I had an interesting conversation today I thought I would share. I was discussing with a dear friend of mine about how large families seem to be making a comeback. It seems like more and more young mommies are making the choice to stay home and have large families. I am making that choice myself, but not without resistance.</center><center> </center><center>My parents are from the generation where you have 2 kids, both parents work, and you see just how successful you can be. I was a daycare kid, my mom always chose to work and that was all I knew. Did I turn out fine, yeah. But is that what I want for my kids? Simple answer: no</center><center><br />
</center><center>It seems like our society now days is so career driven and we are losing sight of the basics. I actually know of a wonderful mother of 4 who unexpectedly was recently blessed with baby #5 and was fearful for others to know. Why? Well its because of this stigma society attaches to large families. They are no longer seen as a blessing, but a burden.</center><center><br />
</center><center>At my baby shower for my second daughter we played a game: everyone had to write down a piece of advice for me. I had 5 people write down, "stop at 2!" That was heart breaking for me. That is really the best thing to tell me? Not "hug them every chance you get" or "always kiss them goodnight", it was never have any more</center><center><br />
</center><center>But, I think this is slowly changing again. I think more and more young mommies are choosing to go back to the pre-feminist days where mom stayed home and dad worked. Where your family was the top priority of a woman. Where she was fulfilled being a mom and wife. And that gives me pride! We are making the conscious change to say "We chose to serve our families first, no matter what the cost" Now it is just getting that stigma to go away.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I recently graduated with my BBA this past December. With what should have been a joyous time, it was overshadowed with everyone asking, "So are you finally going to work?" I began to feel all this pressure to go into the work world because "why pay for an education you will never use." I started making myself miserable as a stay at home mom, telling myself I wasn't fulfilled from it. I began applying for jobs and interviewing. It seemed like I found a million excuses to turn down every job that was offered to me. Then it hit me, I was turning them down because I felt convicted. I was turning them down because deep down I longed to serve my family at home.</center><center><br />
</center><center>I am now happier than ever, fully enjoying every second of staying at home with my girls. I know this is my purpose. And you know what? Staying true to my heart has worked because i have a possible job opportunity to work full time from HOME for a non profit agency so close to my heart. And if that doesn't work out? I say Oh well!, because I know ,and have a peace, that everything will work out where I can serve in the way the Lord created me to. I can be a wife and mother and know I am doing that with all the ability I have to do it.</center><center><br />
</center><center>So lay off SAHM and large families society! We are helping restore a little bit of family values that seemed to have been lost. I see so much divorce and brokenness in the world today. I just want to look back in 50 years and still be looking back with my husband. With my children proud of the example, love, and peace that were provided them. Is it always easy? NO! Do I feel like I am going to lose it? At least once a day! Would I trade it for the world? Never! </center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div><center> </center>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-28600059913509343832011-03-24T10:38:00.000-07:002011-03-24T10:38:47.475-07:00Could I send a son?<center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center>I was re-watching all the Army Wives past seasons these past couple of weeks and I was suddenly hit with a shocking revelation:</center><center><br />
</center><center>I do not think I could send a son off to war</center><center><br />
</center><center>This even shocked me! I have sent my husband off to war, waited at home, worried every second, BUT that was OK for some reason. The thought of sending a son, a precious life you birthed, over to a combat zone gives me chills. And unfortunately, I know I might have to face this someday.</center><center><br />
</center><center>We only have 2 little ladies at the moment, but we are hoping to add #3 in the soon future (think blue, think blue, did I say THINK BLUE!). And my husband has already said he would like to see his son in the military someday. I love this life, I love my husbands service, the way our whole family gets to to serve our country, but I don't know if I could ever transition from Air Force Wife to Air Force Mom</center><center><br />
</center><center>This amazes me when I think about it. I mean, my husband has a mother just like every other armed service member out there, but I have never thought about it for them from their point of view. Why is it so easy to send a husband, but not a son? We send our husbands because we are confident in their training, in their abilities, in the military. But, sending a son seems to feel like pushing a child in the water and saying sink or swim. And I don't even have a son! (yet ;) )</center><center><br />
</center><center>So today I commend all you military mommas out there! You have a tough job too, and you are so often forgotten. People remember the wives and kids that are left behind because we are the most visible. But you serve your country too from the shadows and if it wasn't for your service, we couldn't serve either.</center><center><br />
</center><center>Thank you military mommas!</center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8593663389261840549.post-57465326239748287032011-03-24T09:03:00.000-07:002011-03-24T09:03:28.755-07:00The Hidden Sisterhood<center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><center></center><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I took our oldest daughter, LoveBug, to a birthday party a couple weeks ago. She is in preschool and this was her first birthday party for a school friend. It was actually her first birthday party of a friend that wasn't family. Earlier that day I was thinking about how NG (National Guard) wives and families are like a secret society. How we live among the civilians, not others of our kind. I think most Americans who do not have a tie to the military forget there is a war going on right now, forget that servicemen are dying for our country right now, and thousands of kids are missing their daddys tonight. How hard it is to live among the real world, when you feel like no one understands your daily fear and pride.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Anyway, back to the party, I was making small talk with the other moms like you do at these not so entertaining events. I don't really know these moms except who their kid is and what they drive from the many afternoons sitting in the pick up line. As I was talking to this one mom, I discovered they are an NG family. They just left the service within the last 6 months, her husband severed 10 years and 2 tours to Iraq. I was in shock that my daughter went to school with another military kid. And although they are out now, that little girl will always be a military kid. And that is when it hit me, being a NG family is like a secret society. We walk among civilians, we look like civilians, but we serve our country with everything we have.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We talked the rest of the party, swapping our own war stories of birthing those deployment babies alone, 1 am trips to the ER with one sick kid, one tired kid, and no daddy, and of course the "well my fill in the blank broke the day after he left" stories. As military wives, past and present, we can look back on those and laugh. We share the struggles, tears, and now laughter. It was like an instant connection to her, like we were just old friends. It amazes me how quickly military wives can connect. Its like our souls were made to help each other through this crazy life we chose.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Military wives are like a hidden sisterhood. We can be complete strangers and the instant you find out what you share, it is like your hearts are connected forever. Being a military wive is a feeling of pride, fear, anger, hurt, love, that only other military wives can understand. They get why knocks on the door or 3 am phone calls can scare you, why you are suddenly so computer savvy with a webcam, how you learned to fix that leaky pipe, how your kids know what a true hero is (and nope he doesn't wear a cape). You almost have an unspoken language, a language that comforts all your fears and shares all your stories. I am so thankful for this sisterhood, it has always served me well. I think its part of our duty to our country and I proudly serve.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o106/sweetlyssa05/white-square.jpg" /></a></div>Coleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06714355506495019652noreply@blogger.com2