Deep Thoughts and the Great Cherry-lanche of 2011

It's hard for me to believe sometimes, but I have been out of the work force for eight years now. When I separated from the Air Force I had zero intention of staying home. I worked at the kids' daycare for about five months and then took a temporary contracting job on the base, hoping that it might eventually turn into a permanent job. I hadn't been in that job two months when we received our orders for Germany. (We got the notice for orders less than an hour after we put an offer in on a house. Fun, right?)

Finding a job for my career field in Germany is a difficult thing when you don't have a degree. I went to a job fair not too long after we arrived and one of the HR people told me that if I had been Jason's AFSC he would have hired me in an instant--but because of the agreements in place with the German government there would be a problem hiring me with my lack of degree. (There are/were ways around that for high-demand/hard-to-fill jobs, but it wasn't worth jumping through hoops for a career field as prolific as mine. It sucked but I understood.)

So the decent-paying jobs were out. The odd job that I was qualified for didn't pay enough to cover day care in Germany. We ran the numbers six ways to Sunday and it kept coming out the same way: I would have literally brought home less than $100/month when you subtracted daycare and other work-related costs. Jason's work schedule was going to be unpredictable and brutal, making 'family time' something of a rarity. It just wasn't worth it for us. After hours and hours of discussion Jason and I decided that I would stay home for the duration of our time there, taking care of the kids and attending school while I was there. (We also decided that we would have another kid and that I would stay home with all the kids until the youngest went to school, but that is a whole different post.)

Lately I have wondered just how badly this time "off" is going to hurt my ability to find a job when the time comes to pack all these rugrats off to school and do something productive with my time. What are my future prospective employers going to think when they see that I took 10 years (give or take) off to lie on the couch and eat bon-bons all day? At the upper end of my 30s, am I going to be unemployable and obsolete? It sometimes keeps me up at night.

Then I have days like yesterday. I don't think I have mentioned it here but the degree I am working toward is in Emergency Management. I would love to someday work for Red Cross or FEMA. My dad has told me before that he can't think of better job experience for disaster preparedness and response than managing a house with four boys. Most days I just laugh; yesterday I kind of agreed with him. I'm getting great on-the-job training. Here's my latest resume bullet:

Single-handedly saved an individual...

...from a massive landslide...

...brought about by an undeniable force of nature.

Man, let me tell you. There is never a dull moment in this house!

Mother's Day Lesson

I don't like Mother's Day. (Well, hello there. What a nice first sentence back, eh?) It's not a bitter "I don't like" such as those anti-Valentine's Day sentiments you sometimes hear. I even enjoy bits and pieces of it. I just don't like the pressure of all that attention. Is that weird? I'm pretty sure it is.

Growing up, there was a lot of pressure to get holidays and special occasions right. There was an elaborate plan and there were high expectations: Everyone had a role to play, lines to say, and appearances to uphold. I probably don't have to tell you that there was a 100% fail rate. It was stressful and I don't know if I will ever completely get over it. I feel this way about all holidays to a certain extent but the worst are the ones where the attention turns to me. I face the day with dread, knowing beyond certainty that I will never be able to act and react in the ways expected of me.

This is all internal, of course. Self-induced torture. And decidedly unfair to my kids. I should be able to just enjoy the--my--day without being a mass of nerves. I should be able to let them, and Jason too, make a big deal about me without feeling...selfish and wrong. I need to remember this. It's an important lesson, I think.

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Other, good, things I want to remember about the day:

Sam walked four miles this morning to buy me flowers while I slept in. They were from everyone, but Jason didn't want to leave and have me wake up to an empty house. Sam was so proud that he picked the flowers out himself.

Jake made me a magnet and a card at school. The magnet is classic Jake, stick figures on a baseball field with his family in the stands. He is, of course, at bat.

In the spirit of being real, Zander was a true pill bug today. He gave out hugs and kisses aplenty, but there were several tantrums today. Eh. He's four--and a passionate four, at that. I wouldn't trade this kid for any of a trillion others.

Cuddling with Izzy after his nap may have been my favorite moment of today. Sitting with him in my arms I took in the sweet lines of his face; the rounded curve of his cheek, his upturned nose, and his bowed lips. I know from experience that someday soon I will wake up to find that he's turned into a little boy overnight. I want to remember always the way his little arms feel when he's hugging my neck.

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I don't know how my kids are going to remember this Mother's Day, but these are the things I'm hoping to take with me from the day. Did you learn anything this Mother's Day? I hope you all had a great weekend.

All the Stories that Could Have Been

Do you remember those special pieces they used to do in the news? One of those morning show people used to go to some random city, flip through a phone book, and randomly pick some Joe (or Jane) America. Then he would interview the person to show that everybody has a story worth telling. I always thought those were fun and interesting...and really, not a bad precursor to today's blogs. We're all just out here telling our story, showing the world how we became who we are.

I started blogging more than five years ago for the same reason that a great deal of bloggers started: to keep my far away family and friends in the loop on our life. That blog was about the kids and our family unit. Yeah, it was told with my voice, but it was a reflection of us, not me. For a variety of reasons, that particular blog just didn't work out the way I expected. It was a source of great frustration for me at the time, but it led to better things because now I blog for myself. This blog is about my life, my thoughts, my fears, my struggles, my joys...it's the one place in my life where I can use that many "my's" without guilt. Because here? It's not about the kids or my marriage or anything else that I feel should hold some sort of priority. Here, it really is all about me.

I struggle with where to take this blog sometimes. I want to tell my story, but I don't always know how to do it. To know a person's now you need to know their then...and y'all have missed out on a lot of "then". Some of that comes up in ways that fit and make sense, but I avoid a lot of it due to the potential fallout. (For those who aren't aware, pretty much every family member and real-life friend I have knows where this blog is. Hi guys! Love ya!)

On top of all that, I'm not even sure what my story is. I'm a military spouse, but that's not all I am. I'm a mother, but that doesn't define me. I'm not just an on-again, off-again student (thankfully, since that particular dial is currently set to "OFF"); a daughter; a sister; a granddaughter; an American veteran. I'm more than just the sum of my parts. It's not even that I'm searching for who I am because I don't really think you can ever truly know that until the end, if you ever really know it at all. Living is changing. Who I am now is not who I was one or ten years ago; it's also not who I will be one or ten years from now.

It's funny because there have been times in my life when I could have told you who I was in that moment. Or, who I felt I was, anyway. It's like I have a list of all the stories that could have been running through my head. I defined myself by my job when I was active duty. (That took awhile to get over.) When Jason and I were trying to grow our family I would have defined myself as "that chick that can't get pregnant again". I've been the deployed mom, the daughter caught in the middle, the grandchild desperate to get home in time, the hurt and bitter *fill in role of your choice* , that skinny chick with body image issues (sigh), that girl who lost 50 pounds, the girl that gained the weight back...man, I've held a lot of roles in this life. I'm sure I'll hold more. I feel like I have the best hold on who I am in this moment...but I have no defining label to give you. I'm just me.

Do you have a focus and direction in mind for your blog? What roles have you held in the past that might have made for interesting reading material? And does anyone remember which morning show used to do that interview?! It's killing me!

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Don't forget to enter the CSN Stores giveaway! Comments close this Sunday, 12 December.

setting the stage

So what is it like in a house with four kids? I am sure that our house seems like complete mayhem to some people. We have a 12-year-old, an 8-year-old, a CRAZY 3-year-old, and a baby. (Yes he is. His birthday isn't until next week so shut it and let me enjoy this last week as the mother of an infant!) We are loud and completely nuts. Our boys, who couldn't be more different if they tried, are always going in different directions. Admittedly, it is a little nutty around here at times.

I figure it's a little like my dad wanting to live in the Southwest. He moved to Texas a few months ago and he loves it. He goes out hiking the various mountains and seeing all the sights in what seems to me to be the middle of nowhere. And as much as I can see that he enjoys it there, desert life just isn't something I would choose for myself if given many other options. The pictures he sends are beautiful in their own way and I know he would like to see us end up in that area of the country...but the heat! Every time I talked to him this summer I would ask him what the temperature was, knowing that it would be a triple-digit number. There would be a moment of silence when he told me and then he would say, "But it's a dry heat!" Which, to him, makes all the difference.

I've always wanted a big family. I know that it isn't for everyone. We get by on little sleep. The noise can be overwhelming, the homework neverending. The laundry! Oh, but the laundry is insane. I spend more time in the kitchen than I care to think about. Someone always needs something and someone else (Zander, cough, cough) is always getting into something he shouldn't. My entire house is cluttered and the decorative style could really only be classified as "Early primitive Lego"...but there is laughter and there is love in abundance. There is always someone with whom to read, watch a movie, snuggle, play a game, and just simply be. It is crazy in this house for certain...but it's a calm crazy and we wouldn't have it any other way.