Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God.
Phillipians 1:3
Seven years ago we became eligible to PCS.. If you are in the military you know that a PCS is a major pain in the butt and selecting your choice of assignments is a migraine waiting to happen. Considering we were leaving the armpit of America and I had begged, literally begged for a year and a half to leave, I didn't really care where we were going. Anywhere was better than where we were.
I had a few requests and they had to be met. They must be met.
- The town must be more up to date than 1989. I know that makes me sounds like a snot box, whatever. I came from the big city, that I loved and moved to 1989. I could settle for around 2002.. but we had to surpass the 1990s.
- We had to have a Target and a Gap. If we had nothing else, I could survive with those two stores alone to shop in and order everything else online. Nothing but walmart but 18 months nearly killed me.. Driving 90 minutes to Target? For the birds.
- No snow. I had decided that I liked southern weather and was done with the cold.
- No tornados. Spending the night before I had Bella and a few other run ins with the sirens was enough for me. We'll revisit this later..
We studied and studied, the available jobs and "the list". I was in the States, Jason from Iraq. We finally narrowed it down and made our selections. Fort Campbell, Fort Benning, Fort Campbell again and Fort Bragg.
We waited anxiously to find out where we would move next. I was so excited I couldn't stand it.
Jason checked his email over and over again waiting for the assignment to come through. It didn't. One day his telephone rang, it was the assignments officer. "What do you think about Alabama? To an aviation unit?" What.the.crap. Jason is not even a pilot. We wanted to go to Alabama about as much as we wanted to stay in Arkansas.
The Army clearly doesn't like us although I have serious doubts that they like anyone..
I remember sending out the first email to my friends letting them know I was moving to Alabama. Roll Tide. War Eagle. What in the world did that mean? Blissful ignorance in those days let me tell you. You're going to go live with Forrest Gump. Oh dear Lord.. Are you going to come back here with an accent? I doubt it..
We arrived at the end of May, I was pregnant with baby number two and sweating out of my own skin. Seriously, the humidity somedays reached 90%. Ninety percent. And the allergies. They call this death valley and they aren't kidding.. there are months I can't even breathe through my nose. Jason left four months after we arrived and I raised two babies in a place that I could honestly have taken or left. No sign of snow though and still no sign of Forrest Gump.
Jason's first boss's wife was a lovely lady who continuously went out of her way to make me feel welcome and accepted and loved by all things Army. The life of a typical army wife is just not my style, I am up to my eyeballs in preschoolers.. And I get hives at the thought of meeting new people. You can believe me or not, it is true. Still, Lydia was persistent and continued time and again to ask us to visit their church. I always smiled and said I am sure it is lovely place but we aren't looking. She kept asking. I kept saying no thank you.
When Will and Amelia were both babies, I enrolled Bella in a gymnastics class. She went once a week and loved it. After much discussion, Jason and I decided that she would benefit from starting preschool also. I asked a few ladies at gymnastics for recommendations for school. And what did they say.. Lydia's church. That I had politely and persistently declined to attend. It was as if God was speaking to me.. We visited. We visited again. I never felt unwelcome because I wasn't Baptist. For 1.5 years we visited that church before joining. I needed to know in my heart that it is where I belonged. Without a doubt. I needed to know it was my church home.
A month ago, Will had his tonsils removed. We were in the hospital for 9 hours the first day. Our pastor and my friend sat with me during the surgery. I received texts and phone calls to check on us throughout the day. Friends spent the night with us the first two nights we were home. When we went back to through the ER because of complications, I was met there by my friend and our Pastor. Visitors came every day to sit with us, visit with us, bring us food. Text messages, telephone calls and emails. Food to the house. God speaking to my heart.. this is where you belong. This is why you are here. I never would have gotten through that week without so many of you..I never would have survived that in DC. It never would have been like that anywhere else. I know that.
There are days when I question the decision that Jason and I made.. to split up our family. There are specific reasons behind our decision. Medical reasons particularly. Two kids with asthma that are in and out of the ER, with no family near us again. It was hard. We know we made the right decision but still, I somedays have my doubts. The day of Will's surgery, we found out that Jason will be deploying for the fifth time. I heard God speaking to my heart again. This is where I wanted you to be..this is your home.
There are days that are longer than others. The road is often more uphill than down. And that's okay. While sometimes I think an easier path would be nice, I know that it doesn't do anything to build character. It doesn't do anything to teach us about ourselves. We learn about who we are and how to survive when we are faced with difficult situations. I don't know everything but I know this, we are survivors.
We have been here six years now and I am so thankful for my home state. I even converted my drivers license and residency two years ago. Huge for me because I still claimed Ohio even though we left years ago. It was huge. It was me finally admitting that we would never go back like I had always thought and hoped. It is okay. I am at peace with it. It is better this way. If you ask my kids where they are from, they say Alabama. They have even on occasion said War Eagle and Roll Tide. I try not to throw up when I hear it. We are Buckeyes, driver's license or not. I hear them speak and smile. I don't care who you are, there is nothing better than a southern accent. Especially on a toddler child. It literally makes my heart smile. Last year I saw my Ohio friends for a girls weekend, I hadn't seen them in a year. We went to Nashville so I'm going to blame the fact that we were still in the south but they said "do you hear your accent?! I love it!" I most certainly did not. But oh well..I'm surrounded by it so I suppose it is only a matter of time. I think of my pastor and what he says, "I'm not from Alabama but I got here as fast as I could." I think we'll stay awhile..I'm still looking for Forrest Gump after all.
www.simplicitybychristy.com
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
On why a big butt is important..
We are not a very modest household. It is something that actually surprises me because I am a modest person in general. I don't like anyone looking at me. I don't like anyone changing in front of me. Locker rooms? Appalling. Breast feeding? Not my thing, I did it in the bathroom under a sheet. I remember when I was a nanny in college and I would do overnights for a long weekend.. I would shower, get dressed and then sit in the bathtub to shave my legs. I would say please behave for 5 minutes and lock the door and they would beat on it and scream the entire time. Then came my own kids, and they just barge in and privacy in the shower is a thing of the past. I'm lucky to go to the bathroom alone. Ever.
Which brings me to last Saturday. I'm getting dressed to go swimming and the girls are in there with me. They are giggling. Really giggling. I ask them what is so funny. Bella doesn't want to tell me. I finally tell her I know she is laughing at me, so they better just tell me. She sighs. She doesn't want to hurt my feelings she says. She loves me, I I am beautiful. But she and Amelia think I have a big butt. A jiggly butt. The jiggly is making them giggly. Literally that's what she tells me.
I can't help but laugh at this when they tell me. I know that it is probably not the best reaction to have, they just told me I have a big butt after all. Now, before you come at me guns blazing, I know my butt is not that big. It could be smaller of course. It once was in fact much, much smaller. Shocking probably to those of you that know me now. Shocking even more that to hear someone tell me, even a 7 year old, I have a big butt doesnt bother me now. Previously it would make me actually feel bad about the size of said behind. Now? Ehhh, who cares. This butt, so to speak, has grown and given birth to four children. Lucky that I love them more than I love weighing 110 pounds with rock hard abs.. and hours in the gym every day.
Not everyone is born thin and beautiful. Some people are and stay that way forever. Some people gain and lose 75 pounds four times and really, really find out who they are when people see them differently. Some people struggle every day to be happy with how they appear to the outside world. And why? Who do they really need to make happy besides themselves? It matters who you are on the inside, what your heart looks like and how you treat people. It doesn't matter how long your hair is, if your skin is clear and if you wear a size two your entire life. So what I had a double chin from 2004 - 2009? Do you not want to be my friend? I'm probably better off without you anyway. My butt jiggles a little bit now but I have four beautiful healthy children. I'm perfectly fine with it.
I sat the girls down and very seriously had to tell them that it is never okay to tell me that something is wrong with their appearance. That it is never okay to tell someone they have a big butt, they are fat or they are ugly. That you don't like their curly hair. People are different, God made us all beautiful and different and wonderful. Judging someone from the outside may make you miss something really great on the inside. And the inside, may be really, really great.
Which brings me to last Saturday. I'm getting dressed to go swimming and the girls are in there with me. They are giggling. Really giggling. I ask them what is so funny. Bella doesn't want to tell me. I finally tell her I know she is laughing at me, so they better just tell me. She sighs. She doesn't want to hurt my feelings she says. She loves me, I I am beautiful. But she and Amelia think I have a big butt. A jiggly butt. The jiggly is making them giggly. Literally that's what she tells me.
I can't help but laugh at this when they tell me. I know that it is probably not the best reaction to have, they just told me I have a big butt after all. Now, before you come at me guns blazing, I know my butt is not that big. It could be smaller of course. It once was in fact much, much smaller. Shocking probably to those of you that know me now. Shocking even more that to hear someone tell me, even a 7 year old, I have a big butt doesnt bother me now. Previously it would make me actually feel bad about the size of said behind. Now? Ehhh, who cares. This butt, so to speak, has grown and given birth to four children. Lucky that I love them more than I love weighing 110 pounds with rock hard abs.. and hours in the gym every day.
Not everyone is born thin and beautiful. Some people are and stay that way forever. Some people gain and lose 75 pounds four times and really, really find out who they are when people see them differently. Some people struggle every day to be happy with how they appear to the outside world. And why? Who do they really need to make happy besides themselves? It matters who you are on the inside, what your heart looks like and how you treat people. It doesn't matter how long your hair is, if your skin is clear and if you wear a size two your entire life. So what I had a double chin from 2004 - 2009? Do you not want to be my friend? I'm probably better off without you anyway. My butt jiggles a little bit now but I have four beautiful healthy children. I'm perfectly fine with it.
I sat the girls down and very seriously had to tell them that it is never okay to tell me that something is wrong with their appearance. That it is never okay to tell someone they have a big butt, they are fat or they are ugly. That you don't like their curly hair. People are different, God made us all beautiful and different and wonderful. Judging someone from the outside may make you miss something really great on the inside. And the inside, may be really, really great.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Ten things I want to say to you on Tuesday
1. I don't own a dog because I hate poop. If I don't want to clean up after my own dog, I most certainly don't want to clean up after your dog. What in the world is so hard about this people..
2. Seriously, the juniors section is for juniors. In high school. If you aren't seventeen anymore, don't shop there. I don't want to see butt crack and cleavage when you bend over. Or when you sit down. I'm also tired of explaining this to my kids..
3. Same goes for bathing suits. There comes a time when the bikini simply has to be retired. (For me it was 2005) Just own it and move on..
4. A chocolate covered donut with sprinkles is not a sandwich. I'm not serving it for lunch.
5. Let me introduce you to the word no. Clearly your child doesn't hear it very often.
6. Every body in the world is busy. Are we all in a competition to see who is the busiest these days? I would prefer to go back to who has the best personality and the best hair and visit with my friends..
7. You really can survive on 6 hours of sleep. Trust me.
8. You most definitely can survive two weeks without seeing your spouse. If you whine to me about it, I'm probably going to roll my eyes at you. Or walk away. Or literally bite.my.tongue.in.two.
9. If you always have to tell people how awesome you are - you're probably the only one that thinks that. The rest of us, we just smile and wave.
10. Quit being such a Negative Nancy, Drama Llama and Sally Showoff on Facebook. I'm pretty sure there's a limit to how many people you can hide on Facebook. Pretty soon, I'm going to hide myself.
2. Seriously, the juniors section is for juniors. In high school. If you aren't seventeen anymore, don't shop there. I don't want to see butt crack and cleavage when you bend over. Or when you sit down. I'm also tired of explaining this to my kids..
3. Same goes for bathing suits. There comes a time when the bikini simply has to be retired. (For me it was 2005) Just own it and move on..
4. A chocolate covered donut with sprinkles is not a sandwich. I'm not serving it for lunch.
5. Let me introduce you to the word no. Clearly your child doesn't hear it very often.
6. Every body in the world is busy. Are we all in a competition to see who is the busiest these days? I would prefer to go back to who has the best personality and the best hair and visit with my friends..
7. You really can survive on 6 hours of sleep. Trust me.
8. You most definitely can survive two weeks without seeing your spouse. If you whine to me about it, I'm probably going to roll my eyes at you. Or walk away. Or literally bite.my.tongue.in.two.
9. If you always have to tell people how awesome you are - you're probably the only one that thinks that. The rest of us, we just smile and wave.
10. Quit being such a Negative Nancy, Drama Llama and Sally Showoff on Facebook. I'm pretty sure there's a limit to how many people you can hide on Facebook. Pretty soon, I'm going to hide myself.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
the things you learn from a pink dot
Bella didn't learn to read until she was in kindergarten. I specifically didn't teach her to read until she went to kindergarten. I knew she was capable, had the ability prior to entering kindergarten but I didn't think she needed to learn this particular skill until she got there. Now, if you know me well, you're probably confused. I am a good reader. A very good reader. A very fast reader.
It is because of this that I didn't teach this child to read. I wanted her to learn at her own time, not my time, with her peers, at the schedule and pace of her kindergarten teacher. I would help her along but I didn't feel that she needed to go into kindergarten knowing how to read in order to achieve greatness. In order to be the smartest kid in her class. I knew she was smart and she it just wasn't something I was going to push her at. I "read up" very early on. I knew how to read before I entered kindergarten. In first grade, I surpassed the "blue birds" to my own group and had to color during reading time until other students caught up with me. In second grade, third and fourth grade, I had to go to the grade completely above me for reading. It was challenging yes, uncomfortable too.
While I was confident in Bella's abilities and skill, I wanted her more importantly to also not be bored early on. To not go to kindergarten feeling like she already knew something she was supposed to learn there. I wanted her to want to learn to read. She did and picked it up very quickly. Today, she is a very good reader. A very, very good reader. There are some days she takes five tests in a day. I think it is too many but who am I too say too much is too much. Why should I discourage her for being too smart? For loving to read? Which brings me to the pink dot.. Bella has gotten so good that she has now surpassed the first grade reading level. The last time she was tested, she tests at the end of third grade. Two grades ahead of where she is. It is amazing. I am so proud but I don't make a big deal out of it. I don't want her to get a big head after all. All this really means to her is she can read up to a certain level - it's color coded by a certain dot in the library and she has free reign to choose her books. She reads silently each night for 20 minutes and I spot test her occasionally. She scores 100% and I mostly leave her alone. Each morning she tells me the title of the book, I sign the reading log and so on. She's reading at a third grade level and can read anything between 1st - 3rd, so no problems.
The past two weeks Bella has been pretty emotional. Not her usual happy go lucky self. I'm a little concerned, I talk to her and get nothing from her. I ask my friend Tracey, our acting children's minister, to talk to her.. Bella loves Tracey and they go out to lunch and to a bridal shower, a fun day for them.
Tracey asks me if I know about the book Bella read for AR? The one about the soldier who died? The one who lost his legs in the war? My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my ears and I think I'm going to throw up. What book? An AR book about a soldier? That my child has checked out from the library? THAT I HAVEN'T READ!?! We limit everything war related in our house. Especially now with Jason facing his fifth deployment. Bella and I have a very, very long discussion. About the book. It's a pink dot, well within her reading range, she checked the book out at the library and read it. It's about a dad and a little boy that go to the Wall to look for their Veteran. On the way there, they meet another veteran who is in a wheelchair because he lost his legs in the war.
And all of this is in a pink dot? A pink dot? Suitable for 7 year old? Ugh, I think I'm going to vomit. Or scream. Maybe pass out. I'm not sure which. I ask Bella why she hasn't talked to me about the book. Why she didn't ask me or tell me that she read it if she was this upset. "Well, mama, the lady in the book says that these things are happening over there. And you keep saying that my Daddy will be safe. That he will go and he will come back. But what if he goes and loses his legs over there. Or what if someone shoots him. I think that the lady that wrote the book just knows more than you. And I didn't say anything to you because I didn't want to worry you."
Some things you just shouldn't learn from a book..especially anything regarding war.
It is because of this that I didn't teach this child to read. I wanted her to learn at her own time, not my time, with her peers, at the schedule and pace of her kindergarten teacher. I would help her along but I didn't feel that she needed to go into kindergarten knowing how to read in order to achieve greatness. In order to be the smartest kid in her class. I knew she was smart and she it just wasn't something I was going to push her at. I "read up" very early on. I knew how to read before I entered kindergarten. In first grade, I surpassed the "blue birds" to my own group and had to color during reading time until other students caught up with me. In second grade, third and fourth grade, I had to go to the grade completely above me for reading. It was challenging yes, uncomfortable too.
While I was confident in Bella's abilities and skill, I wanted her more importantly to also not be bored early on. To not go to kindergarten feeling like she already knew something she was supposed to learn there. I wanted her to want to learn to read. She did and picked it up very quickly. Today, she is a very good reader. A very, very good reader. There are some days she takes five tests in a day. I think it is too many but who am I too say too much is too much. Why should I discourage her for being too smart? For loving to read? Which brings me to the pink dot.. Bella has gotten so good that she has now surpassed the first grade reading level. The last time she was tested, she tests at the end of third grade. Two grades ahead of where she is. It is amazing. I am so proud but I don't make a big deal out of it. I don't want her to get a big head after all. All this really means to her is she can read up to a certain level - it's color coded by a certain dot in the library and she has free reign to choose her books. She reads silently each night for 20 minutes and I spot test her occasionally. She scores 100% and I mostly leave her alone. Each morning she tells me the title of the book, I sign the reading log and so on. She's reading at a third grade level and can read anything between 1st - 3rd, so no problems.
The past two weeks Bella has been pretty emotional. Not her usual happy go lucky self. I'm a little concerned, I talk to her and get nothing from her. I ask my friend Tracey, our acting children's minister, to talk to her.. Bella loves Tracey and they go out to lunch and to a bridal shower, a fun day for them.
Tracey asks me if I know about the book Bella read for AR? The one about the soldier who died? The one who lost his legs in the war? My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my ears and I think I'm going to throw up. What book? An AR book about a soldier? That my child has checked out from the library? THAT I HAVEN'T READ!?! We limit everything war related in our house. Especially now with Jason facing his fifth deployment. Bella and I have a very, very long discussion. About the book. It's a pink dot, well within her reading range, she checked the book out at the library and read it. It's about a dad and a little boy that go to the Wall to look for their Veteran. On the way there, they meet another veteran who is in a wheelchair because he lost his legs in the war.
And all of this is in a pink dot? A pink dot? Suitable for 7 year old? Ugh, I think I'm going to vomit. Or scream. Maybe pass out. I'm not sure which. I ask Bella why she hasn't talked to me about the book. Why she didn't ask me or tell me that she read it if she was this upset. "Well, mama, the lady in the book says that these things are happening over there. And you keep saying that my Daddy will be safe. That he will go and he will come back. But what if he goes and loses his legs over there. Or what if someone shoots him. I think that the lady that wrote the book just knows more than you. And I didn't say anything to you because I didn't want to worry you."
Some things you just shouldn't learn from a book..especially anything regarding war.
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