Memorial Day

(I apologize for the syntax errors in the blog. I am sure there are many. My grammar brain has not yet woken up. Please bear with me for this one. I'll do better next time.)

Today we went to Ft Riley's Memorial Day ceremony. I'm pretty sure we got there on time, but we may have been a few minutes late. The point is we went. The kids we dressed appropriately, and Codey was wearing his dress uniform. During the ceremony the kids were quiet and respectful (even Emilee). They even saluted during Taps and The Star Spangled Banner.

As we were walking to the ceremony, we were passed by a woman and her two boys. They couldn't have been more than 8 and 10, maybe 11. I started looking around, and I noticed a lot of single women with children, and I couldn't help but wonder, "Were these widows of Iraq or Afghanistan?" "Are these children here to honor the memory of their fallen father?" Or, "Are they here because Dad is deployed, and he wants his kids to honor his lost friends?"

I had all these thoughts as we were walking up, and we couldn't even hear the words yet.

I started out wanting to go because I wanted to teach our kids what Memorial Day is all about. I wanted them understand that there were many, many generations before us who sacrificed more than we can imagine to ensure that we have what we do. I wanted to honor the fallen soldiers who gave their lives so their buddy wouldn't have to. Soldiers who died because they believed in the United States and the ideals that we stand for. However, as I was standing there watching the women with their children during the playing of Taps, I thought, "Maybe I'm not here for the fallen soldiers." I realized during that song that I was there for the wives, husbands, children, parents, and other various loved ones who are still mourning that loss. The loss of their spouse, child, parent, or friend, that they will never get over.

I know my husband isn't deployed, nor has he ever been, but it's coming.  Eventually, he will get those orders, and he will go.  He wants to go. It's his job. If he doesn't go, somebody else will. So, he thinks it should be him, and maybe he's right. Why not give some other guy and his family a break? When that time comes, I am sure I will worry about him and his squad. I will worry about so many things. Like, are they getting enough sleep? Is it too hot or too cold for them? Are they missing us like we're missing them? Mostly, as I'm sure you know, I will worry about their safety. I will worry that eventually, the slow driving Ford coming up the road is for us. That they're coming to tell us, "Ma'am, I am sorry to inform you..."

My thoughts today turned into, "I'm so glad I'm not that wife. I don't know what I would do," even as I was standing there looking at what very likely may have been THAT wife. She has gone through an immeasureable amount of pain and grief. She has had to suffer through the loss of her soul mate, while also comforting the children that Daddy left behind. (Note that while I am using "she," I know there are plenty of husbands who have gone through the same thing.)

I realized at that moment that I am not really here for the fallen soldier. I was there for the wife and children. I was paying my respects to them because their suffering is ongoing. It's real. It's here. It's NOW, and it doesn't go away.

So, I will continue to take my children to ceremonies that honor the dead, and I will teach them to honor the living who have been left behind while they're at it. In this military life, they are bound to have friends who lose parents. I wish it wasn't that way, but that sad reality is that over 6,000 coalition forces have been killed since these wars began, and we're not done yet.

Ceremonies may be boring, and they may be pointless to some, but I feel that as a fellow military wife it is my duty, my mission, to teach the next generation to remember. Remember those who have fallen, for sure, but also remember those who are still here.  Thank them for their sacrifice. They deserve it.

Can you ever be prepared?

After spending a week in KC followed by a week in the mountains of Colorado, I have some thoughts. I spent so much time "preparing" for our trips the past couple of weeks. I sat down and thought about what I would need to pack, what I'd pack it in, how we'd arrange it in the trunk (we have a small car, you see), and so many other things that made me feel better about how the trip was gonna go. I even made lists, and I followed them while I was packing ...to the letter.  I was PREPARED!

Then, I got home, and started looking at pictures from the tornadoes that ravaged Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, and Minnesota. Surely these people had a plan. They knew where they were going to go if there was a tornado. They all "knew" what they were going to take with them to their designated "safe area." If there was a tornado, they would be fine because they were "prepared," right?

WRONG!

There are so many things in life that we cannot prepare for, no matter how much we try and think we are. I sure thought I was ready for our trip, but I failed to plan for the kids not liking our snacks that we packed. I didn't have enough drinks for the kids. I was not prepared for the kids to wake up randomly in the middle of the night during our drive because their necks were hurting. What was I supposed to do about that?

When I made my packing list for Kansas City, I failed to plan for cold weather. I mean, it's Kansas City in the middle of May. It should be warm and muggy, right? Again...WRONG! It rained and was chillly the whole time we were there. I had to change my packing list as I looked at the weather for our trip. Then, because the kids only have XX amount of warm clothes, I had to do laundry on the trip...definitely not something I was prepared for. Laundry for 5 is a whole different ball game than for a smaller number. Especially when you're doing it for 3 small humans. Keeping track of all their socks is, by itself, enough to cause an anyuerism.

Colorado was a different story too. While I didn't expect it to be WARM by any means, I didn't expect, nor did I PLAN, for it to SNOW! SERIOUSLY, IT SNOWED! Like, three, maybe four, of the 6 days we were there, it snowed.

Then, after I started looking at pictures of the devestation across the midwest and realized, these people planned too. What good did it do them? Absolutely none.  Well, I guess that's not entirely true. Some of them are alive, but for what? They have no home, no job, no vehicle. A lot of these people are older, retired. They spent their whole lives planning for the "golden years" to have it destroyed by a 45 second long
tornado. All that time planning, out the window, quite literally.

It got me thinking, what good are our plans? Why bother? What are we planning for? If you know me, you know I am a planner. I make lists, and I follow them. I even make lists about the lists I'm going to make. I organize my shopping list by store, department and aisle. I kid you know, AISLE!

With that being said, I think, no I KNOW, that I am going to try my hardest to stop with so much planning.  My plans don't really matter. They almost always lead to frustration and irritation on my part.

I am reminded of this verse from Jeremiah 29:11 " ¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Why should I be worried about whether my plans are going to work out when the One who created everything from absolutely nothing says to me that He knows His plans for me?

This is not to say that we shouldn't save for retirement or a rainy day, and that we should go through life with aboslutely no sort of planning or preparation whatsoever. But maybe, just maybe, when things don't go the way we expect them to, we shouldn't let our panties get into quite such a big wad. Maybe those "plans" that we had didn't match up to the plans that He has for us.

We need to try harder to remember this. I need to try harder to remember this when things don't go the way I think they should have. It's not really my plan that matters.  Not even a tiny bit.

Stress ...kind of

     So, let's see. My kids are nuts. Hence, my life is nuts.  Let me back up a little. I love nap time. It's like, by far, my favorite part of the day. I try so hard to get all my kids to sleep at the same time. I need that peace and quiet during the day to refocus my brain and get through the afternoon and evening. I love bedtime too, but nap time is definitely my fave. The kids have been increasingly difficult to get consistent naps from here lately. It's like they do well for a few days, and then all of the sudden, no naps for 3 days straight. I don't get it.  They need naps.  Their tiny little bodies need that rest to function properly. Today was Anna's turn to not nap. She stayed in her room the whole time, and she was pretty quiet for the most part, but still ... she didn't sleep. I got the occasional "MOM!" and I'd go in there only to have her say, "I wanna get up." Too bad Anna, you must rest. Am I crazy for requiring my children to be in their room, in the bed, and quiet for two hours every day? Maybe.  By this evening, Anna was a mess.  She was too tired to function. She didn't want to eat. She didn't want to do anything. If she had just listened to me earlier and slept her life would've been much easier this evening.
   Why don't kids listen to their parents? Is there a child out there (aside from the obvious answer) who listens to their parents all the time? I'm thinking not. Even the "best" kid must have their moments of rebellious weakness, right? I know I did. My kids do...I'm sure my husband did.
     While I was cooking dinner tonight, Allison nearly smashed Emilee's 4th and 5th digits off of her right hand. Seriously. Nearly.Smashed.Off. I tell them all, repeatedly to not play with doors. Don't open them if their closed. Don't close them if their open. I had my little finger smashed in the hinge side of the door when I was in preschool. It had to be surgically reattached. Since then, it has always been my fear that it would happen to some other kid I was with. It's happened to Anna before ... kind of. She's had her thumb smashed in the front of the door but nothing major.  Tonight, Emilee had her hand smashed in the hinge part of the door.  Alli and Emilee were playing in the bedroom and when they left, Alli shut the door behind her. Unfortunately, Emilee's hand was in the back of the door. And when Emilee started screaming, Alli freaked out and froze and wouldn't open the door back up. Codey went running, Emilee was screaming in pain, Allison was screaming in fright, and Anna was yelling at Alli for hurting Emilee.  It was crazy.
     I'm too tired to finish.  I'll write some more tomorrow. Night.

Not Sure

     So, I decided to start a blog. A place to vent/talk/wonder about our lives without any character limitations and FB drama. Facebook is great, and I enjoy being able to talk with people, but it seems like there are those who are just there for drama. It's annoying and obnoxious. I enjoy the idea of a diary/journal type thing. I like writing, but never seem to have time. For some reason, this seems quicker. I can type way faster than I can write. Plus, the kids can't rip the pen out of my hand.
     As I sit here, watching it snow (at the end of March, no less), I am realizing how far Codey and I have come since we first met. He was working at the bowling alley in KC, and I was working at St Lukes and going to school. Things have changed so much since then. We have changed so much since then.
     I love our kids. They're beautiful and smart and so freakin' funny. This morning, the kids were in our bed and Alli said to Codey, "Get up you old man!" She just says random crap all the time! And it's usually pretty funny.
    Anna is sitting on the love seat next to me with her pink pretend laptop. She's pretending to type. It's amazing to me how much she wants to be like it and how much she imitates me...and how well.  When one of the other kids is hurt, she very often gets there before me and offers comfort to them, kissing their booboos and rubbing their backs. She's sweet.
    Emilee is smart. It's impossible to play hide & seek with her. She'll give you away every time...if she's not hiding with you, that is. If she's your hiding buddy, she's perfect. If you leave her out, she's going to tell the other kids where you are.
    The Army confuses me. We have a love hate relationship, the Army and I. I LOVE that it's a steady paycheck and pretty good insurance. I hate that everything is last minute, and information travels so slowly down hill. Usually by the time it gets to us, it's crawling slower than a snail's place. Everything is so last minute with them. It's just frustrating. Another reason for the blog, actually. Typically if I post something negative on FB about the Army, the typical response from people is, "Well, you chose it," or "It's the Army. What do you expect?" And you know what, that really ticks me off.  Yeah, so what if we chose this life. That doesn't make it any easier when my husband is called away at a moment's notice because some E1 is an idiot, and my husband has to cancel our plans to cover for him.
    So, before you decide to read my postings on a regular basis, you should know that this blog is going to be about my life. And the Army is a part of my life. My kids are a part of my life. My husband is part of my life. Even the dumb dog is a part of my life. And all of those things have positive and negative aspects. Sometimes, I'm sure, I'm going to be more focused on the negative. Sometimes, I'll be focused on the positive. So, if you can't handle that, don't read it. I don't have time for extra drama. Believe me, all those things I listed below cause me enough drama already.
    I hope you will read it though, 'cause you'll probably learn something and be pretty entertained by my life.
   Adios for now!