This retreat was 100% necessary.

It is hard for me to even sit here and describe how desperate I was to get away two weeks ago because I returned fully restored, better than before. I am on the other side of that mental wall of misery now. Life is good and happy again, and I fully mean that.

When I packed my bags and left Alan with the boys, I did not even fully grasp why I need this so badly. I just knew that Alan works at home now, so he could handle the boys for the weekend just fine.

I did not realize how bad off my mental/emotional state truly was until I sat down on the airplane, buckled my seatbelt, was looking out the window, and heard a child cry. This was probably a preschool aged child. How many times have I flown with a child and had to quiet down a baby or a toddler on an airplane?

When I hear that sound, my heart always goes out to the parents. I have been that parent so many times. This time though the sound of the crying hit something deeper in my brain, down in my spirit, something I have pushed to the corners that comes overflowing out when I least expect it.

Tears.

No! No! I am not going to sit here and silently cry on this airplane. It is hard to explain why tears were so close to the surface, but I am going to try to explain myself anyway. All those memories of handling babies and toddlers on airplanes, they are all tied up in difficult memories I have of the hard work that I put in through all these years of being an Army wife.

I hear that crying, and instantly I am twenty-five years old, flying alone with my six-month-old to begin a new life in Texas. Alan will follow me in two weeks, but for now it is just me and the baby.

At the same time, I am twenty-eight years old, flying with a toddler and four-year-old alone because I wanted to visit Alabama longer than Alan had off from work. That day the flight was delayed two hours, and after hours of keeping the boys entertained in the airport, I was already on edge when I got on the airplane where I had to make sure Joshua did not come in contact with any peanuts, which seemed to be everywhere in those days.

The sound of the crying starts, and suddenly I was thirty-two, flying home with one-year-old John David to visit my parents who I do not get to see very often because we have lived in the D.C. area for five years. I remember that day there was a super kind lady on the plane who walked down the aisle and gave me a new and different toy for J.D. to play with so he would stop crying.

I am thirty-three years old, flying with all four of our boys to California. Mom flew with me because Alan is already in school.

There were so many moves, and there were so many airplane rides with small children and me. Somehow Alan usually was not there, and I cannot even remember all of them or why I took all of them. I just remember standing in the aisle, softly singing to my baby so he would not cry on the airplane.

I remember landing at BWI airport, with a baby, I don’t even remember which one, in tow, and completely unable to find my car in the parking garage at eleven p.m.

So all of this starts to flash through my head, and water is beginning to leak out of my eyes, while my nose fills up with the overflow of salty tears. I stiffen myself. NO! This is not the place. Every flight attendant on this airplane knows who I am because I am flying with Jennings. (I was alone in a three-person seat though, thanks to the rona.)

Instead, I focused my brain as hard as I could on praying that child to stop crying. He or she was asleep in like one minute. Thank you, Jesus!

Thankfully, I recovered, and Jennings soon joined me to talk all the way to Atlanta.

I had NO idea my brain was going to go in that direction from a simple airplane ride.

But the thing was that my head was already in that fragile place, from all the recent weeks of feeling trapped and homesick, so the airplane ride just kind of nudged me closer to the edge.

The first time this ever happened was the day I listened to a speech about the Combat Reboot program at my church. It just sort of lanced an emotional boil that had been festering for a while. Ew. Gross imagery. Sorry, guys.

Let me explain about that. Our church here in Maryland, back in the days when we all got to go to normal church, has a Combat Recovery program. One day the organizer for the Combat Recovery program spoke at a church business meeting. She was promoting the program and looking for new people to join and/or lead it. Alan has even been asked to lead the group, as it has to be lead by a combat veteran, but this is not Alan’s calling. I totally get that, as I feel that way about many things. Being a combat veteran does not automatically make you a good leader for veterans with PTSD.

I, of course, am not at all a combat veteran. Nor do I have combat PTSD. I have never seen war, lived with the daily threat of enemy fire, or had to watch friends die or be mutilated. Those are certainly not my issues.

However, as she stood up there talking about military veterans and their spouses and the challenges that they face and how this group can help them, I became a complete and total WRECK. I sat there and silently bawled my eyes out for what felt like twenty minutes. It was so humiliating and unexpected.

“Why??” I kept wondering. Why am I crying so much, and why can’t I stop??? And I could. not. stop. crying. It was terrible.

It was like every time she said the word “military” my heart just poured out more grief. This is so hard to explain, but again, I will try. I literally was left wondering if military wife PTSD could possibly be a thing. Maybe this is because this could be our last duty station? Or because we are nearing our twenty year mark? I don’t know, but suddenly, here it is.

When I was at this meeting, we had only moved in three or four months past. I was fresh off two years of moving in a row, five moves in four years, and eleven moves in eighteen years. Then there were those year long, fifteen-month, and six-month long deployments where I juggled the kids.

So many nights of being new in town, and it is like all the emotions of all those hard things that we dealt with in the midst of all these years as a military family just piled on top of each other in a very untidy fashion. You know how you stack things that are not equal sizes, and if you stack big things on top of little things and crooked on top of straight, and after a while it all just starts to slide?

Well, that day we had a full on avalanche of pent up feelings. When you are tense and fighting through a move or a family separation or a war deployment or being new year after year after year after year, it catches up with you.

This had never happened to me before, crying over I was not even sure what! I think it is the eighteen years of it just catching up with me. We could retire in two years, and I am so extremely ready to do just that. Retire and buy a house in Alabama, land of my forefathers. Maybe the Army thing possibly being almost over is a whole other part of it. I don’t know.

All the feelings started to come out my eyes and my nose:

-hurt -disappointment -uncertainty -inadequacy -failure

-abandoned– So many times I felt abandoned to deal with raising the boys alone. It was not Alan’s fault. He was doing his job, and that meant he had to go overseas sometimes. I knew that with my head, but sometimes it felt an awful lot like plain old alone. Maybe it was wrong, but it was a feeling I had to deal with.

-exhaustion -confusion -worry -frustration -anger

Well, obviously, I could go on and on. That was when I realized that no, Alan was right, combat recovery was not a good program for us. He did not feel like he needed it, and I needed recovery too much to go. That would have been a whole lot more of facing all those emotions that busted out all suddenly on me, and I could not handle it. I really couldn’t.

That incident was late last fall, and I had not had another moment of raw emotion like that one at the church business meeting until this flight to Florida.

But I am happy to tell you that I held it together for another twenty-four hours.

Then I spilled it all out onto Jennings, and somehow I feel like I ACTUALLY worked through it, to the point that I am not even the same and I am able to sit here and type about it without coming apart at the seams. I cried it all out in Florida. Poor Jennings! She got an earful!

Do you know why it helped?

Maybe crying it out, facing your problems, and talking about it always helps. I am not sure, but there was an extra layer present at Jennings’ beach bungalow. That added factor was the way that she pointed me back to what matters, to Jesus. She kept pulling up her Church at the Highlands telecasts and Christian music playlists, and it was exactly what I needed.

With God on your side, you are not relying on your own inner strength alone to get you through hard things. With God there is a bigger comforter and help that goes further than you could get on your own.

Jennings and I talked about our current problems, and we laughingly discussed and debated our old foes too. Together, we even combed Facebook and successfully found one of our friends from college days who we thought we would never be able to find. It was so good just to see her smiling face, looking exactly the same.

Every morning we ate our eggs and walked on the beach. Ugh, I would rather have cereal or a pop tart like in my younger days. Why won’t my pant size cooperate with that??

Then every evening we would take one or two walks. Two different nights we went out around midnight to search the beach for sea turtles laying eggs in the dark. There were none to be found though.

We got sun burned, ate lunch on the beach under our umbrella, and even went souvenir shopping. You might be happy to know that even down in Florida, they took our temperatures at the store, and everyone was required to wear a mask.

I got the cutest souvenirs ever, and I bought every single one of my boys (even Alan) a new Melbourne Beach t-shirt.

With every ounce of seriousness inside of me, I am telling you that this trip was a gift from God. He knew I needed it, and I am so thankful I got to go. The Lord saw my exasperation with lockdown isolation and homesickness, and he blessed me with a ticket to get me through until we visit our family in August.

If you are feeling miserable, pray!! Pray for help. You never know what that help may look like or what form it may come in, but don’t turn it down when it arrives!! You never know what God may have in store for you.

Seize the day! And pray!

We cannot wait to see all of our dear family in August! You will be getting the most desperate-for-people and visiting version of us ever. Ha! I hope you are ready!

The post Weekend Retreat: Dealing with Military Wife PTSD. Is that a thing? appeared first on Stories of Our Boys.

When we moved this past summer, it went differently than I thought it would. The vibe of the moving day exit of our beloved neighborhood was not at all the vibe that I expected, but in a good way.

Last time we left Virginia, in 2014, when we drove the boys away from this place so dear to our hearts, there was so much drama about it. One child was brave but sad, hugged everyone as expected and said his good-byes. Another hid in the car, refusing so much as to wave to anyone, to people he loved with all of his sweet almost-seven-year-old heart. Our pre-schooler hugged everyone and was a doll, and our baby had no idea what was going on. Everyone looked sad for a while in the car. No one wanted to leave. We had wonderful years ahead of us, exploring California, riding around on bicycles like feral children, and all sorts of exploring. The boys didn’t know that yet though. They only knew they were losing everything and everyone they held dear and trading it for the unknown.

This move, in 2019, was not like that. We had only stayed in Virginia one year, so lifting the boys back out was easier. The California and Georgia moves were still fresh on everyone’s minds. The funny thing is that we were still as attached to our Virginia community as ever, but this time the boys had something they didn’t have before.

They had trust. Their hearts rested in faith.

Our hearts and minds knew that moving was always hard and that there would be a phase where we would not have any friends. That phase may last a day, or it may last a year, but it would only be a phase. Eventually, each new place of the past had become home. Our boys knew this, and so they looked onto this move without the fear one has of something they have never done. Instead, they looked on this transition with wisdom, wisdom far beyond their years. This wisdom came at the price of four moves in five years, and it was fully earned. They trusted that everything would be okay. Not only did they trust God and each other, but they trusted us too. Sometimes, when the making friends part is coming too slowly, I feel like I have let them down.

On moving day, the boys said good-bye to their friends in the cul-de-sac, and they piled into the van. No one hid, cried, or resisted. We actually picked up Joshua on our drive out of the neighborhood because he was walking home from a friend’s house. He happily slid into the van with the rest of us.

Daniel spoke for everyone, when he said in a peppy voice, “All right! Where to next!”

He didn’t mean that question literally. We had shown the boys the new city and the house already, so he knew where we would go next. We were only moving two hours away. At the same time, we didn’t know anything about “what next” would actually be like. Such is the life of a nomad. Where to next? Will they welcome us there? Will we have anything in common with the people we meet there? How long will it take us to make friends and to feel at home again?

I was most amazed that Daniel, of all people, would take on such a happy attitude because he had the happiest year in Virginia. One of his best buddies lived next door and was in his class. I let him ride his bicycle to school with Caleb sometimes. Life had been insanely good for Daniel, with far more freedom than he had ever had before.

Yet there he was, ready and present for the next thing. That day they inspired me. I smiled, and I said, “Well, how about lunch next and then onto Maryland?”

Of course, all offers of food to cars full of males are always welcomed with open arms.

That morning I had felt sad and resistant. I lacked their faith and good attitude. Not a bit of me wanted to finish packing, cleaning, and loading, only to drive through two large metropolitan sprawls with a car full of children to a new town full of strangers. I felt old and tired of moving, but those children lifted my spirits. If they can do this, so can I.

Where are we going? Who knows? I am just going to have to trust God that it is good.

I am linking up today with Finish the Sentence Friday at FindingNinee.com. Today’s prompt is “Where are you going?” if you would like to join us.

The post Where to Next? The Trust of a Military Child appeared first on Stories of Our Boys.

When it was back in late September/ early October, our whole family was in the midst of the moving struggle. See, the thing about blooming where you are planted is that the first months, even a year, you are literally in a dark muddy hole with the earthworms and the rocks. Plus, did I mention the mud?

Moving is terrifying and exciting and new, and well it’s hard, okay, it’s plain ol’ hard.

But around that time that I mentioned, friends and family began to announce their visits. Some were even overnight stays! I watched my calendar for late October/early November fill up, and I thought, “Hmmmm. I feel like these dear people are being sent to me to cheer me up.”

At first, my selfish little head thought it was all about me. “Maybe this is what I’ll need to get my act together.”

Now it occurs to me that I am not the only one here who benefits from these visits! I’ve witnessed the benefit to the whole family. This wasn’t for ME, but for US.

The first visit was a whole family of OUR friends.

Our oldest children have grown up together since age 5, and even when we live far away, we see them every year. It’s quite remarkable. I was excited to see them, and I especially enjoyed watching the boys happily bouncing on the trampoline with their old friends.

There is something downright sacred about old friends. We should never take people we can be comfortable with for granted, people who know where we’ve come from, the real us, thorns and all, and yet they hang around. It’s such a beautiful thing.

The second visit was Alan’s parents.

We all looked forward to it. Nonna and I shopped until I could not even walk a step further. The boys got to take Nonna trick-or-treating with them. I could see how much it brightened up Alan’s days to have his family here. He came home early from work everyday, unheard of for Mr. I Love to Work. Best of all for me personally, Nonna helped with homework duty. Hallelujah!

Isn’t it sweetly wonderful how happy children are about seeing their grandparents? They are instant rock stars.

The third visit comes Friday. You’ll never guess who is coming.

Are you on pins and needles? Ha!

My cousin Amber!!!!!!!

I’ve been after her for a visit ever since her mother’s funeral last year. My plan was that we’d still live in D.C., and I’d take her to see all the monuments and Smithsonian museums. However, we moved, so we have to drive a little further for the sight-seeing, but who cares!!! Amber’s coming!! Hurray!!!!

Don’t you love it when you’re all deep in the planting dirt, and you get glimpses of sunlight as you start to break on up through the earth?

Our sprouts are growing. Each stalk of our beings is figuring out where the room to stretch out to the sun is. Before you know it, there will be new leaves, buds, and even flowers. Maybe we won’t even wait for spring. We’ll be like the early daffodils of late February, always showing up before you were quite expecting them.

It’s been 4 months now since the planting, and there are still days with tears, but this weekend is not for tears. This weekend Amber is coming, and we are going to go exploring. I cannot wait.

²⁰ If someone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, ^[d]how can he love God whom he has not seen? ²¹ And this commandment we have from Him: that he who loves God must love his brother also.

1 John 4:20-21

The post Exciting Weekend Ahead: 4 Months into the Move appeared first on Stories of Our Boys.

This year we moved AGAIN. Did I mention that already? Maybe I’ve brought it up too much. Sorry about that., but moving is everything. Where you live and who you’re surrounded by, that’s your life setting.

I was at the eye doctor this week because I’d run completely out of contacts and haven’t been to the eye doctor since 3 states ago. The eye doc asked me many of the usual questions, including this one:

Of all those places you’ve lived, what did you think? Which one did you like best?

It’s funny how when people ask me this, all of a sudden I AM the old Rose in Titanic, at the end of the movie, looking back like “It’s been 80 years.”

I cannot fairly choose one of our duty stations and say, “This one was the best,” because so much of my memories of each place are colored by what was going on in my life at the time.

My best life experience was always Virginia. Always. I had this wonderful support network of friends there, 4 seasons of weather, and an active neighborhood. It was the best, and yet it was still too far from family, and the traffic was atrocious.

But when I see a photo like this:

I know where my favorite place is. It’s wherever the ocean is. The shore is my favorite place to be. So many of my best memories were there.

The first time I saw the ocean was on a truck driving trip I took with my dad. For a short while, he had his own trailer moving business. He drove the big rigs you see hauling mobile homes on the interstate with those signs that say “Wide Load”, and they have those escort trucks. My dad’s cousin Dale drove one of the escort trucks.

By the way, Dale’s escort truck was one of my favorite childhood things too. This truck had a 10 foot antenna on it. 10 or 20! I got in big serious trouble one time for climbing up and swinging on it until it broke off…

But going back to that trip with my dad, I was around 5 years old, maybe 6, and I got my first glimpses of the deep blue crashing on the shores, and I loved it already.

Beach with the Grands

My next life-changing memory at the beach was the year my grandparents took us to Panama City Beach and rented this little beach house that was only a block away from the shore. I was with my grandparents, my Aunt Linda, and my cousin Amber. My excitement was off the charts.

You see, it was hard for us to take vacations like that where you go to a place and stay there for days on end because we had my sister, who is severely disabled; plus traveling is very expensive.

I grew up sharing a room with my sister, Amanda. We shared a bed even, until 4th grade. Amanda is only 15 months my elder. Caring for her was a full time job, which Mom did pretty much by herself. I had to keep my room tidy, or Amanda would chew up my things. She is blind and unable to walk, but also her brain never developed past that of a sixteen-month-old.

Sometimes at night she’d freak me out pretty good by suddenly smacking her hand over my face when I was trying to sleep. I kind of get a chuckle about it now, but it wasn’t always funny at the time. I understood though, and I loved Amanda. We all loved her, cherished her, and protected her, not that I recall anyone ever trying to bother her when we were around.

Have you seen the movie Wonder?

I related to that movie on a level I haven’t been able to relate to any other movie, although trust me, the book is WAY better. Read the book! In the book, Auggie has an extremely deformed face, which causes the family to have to do things differently and subjects them to lots of staring, and Auggie requires special attention.

Auggie has an older sister, named Via. She’s the one I could relate to in the book. When a family has a member who needs an extraordinary amount of extra care, I think the other members try to make up for it. I always had zero desire to take any more from my family than was necessary because Mom and Dad’s hands were already full. So you do your homework without being told, you plan ahead and study for tests, you make sure you can send yourself to college, and you just try to do the right thing and not cause any problems.

Okay, I know that was a long tangent, but I had to tell where I was coming from to fully explain my deep connection with the ocean by age 14.

Here was a place where I could leave all my usual cares behind me. Amanda, who as I said, we did love her, but she didn’t come with us to the beach. She was at home with Mom, the one who truly needed a vacation.

The beach was glorious, and I could never go without getting soaking wet from tip to toe. We had floats, friends, and Coca-Cola in the refrigerator. Who needed Disney World? Not us. This was amazing.

And that line where the water meets the sky on the horizon points to God.

It just does. You can’t look at that expanse and not see its Creator. Every time I go, it puts me in my place, and there I stand, staring in awe at the vastness of it all. It’s the perfect place to pray.

On the shore, against the never-ending enormous sky and sparkling water, all that land stuff seems smaller. The problems are there, but they don’t feel so close by with the waves crashing at your feet. It’s a spiritual thing. God feels closer and life seems clearer. At least, that’s how it has always been for me.

Even with the loudness of the waves, there’s a calm that I feel there. God is there, steadying my anxiety and reminding me that He is in heaven, and here am I on earth, and I let my words be few while I soak it in.

The sea shore is definitely my favorite place of everywhere that I have been. Just talking about it has made me want to hop in my car and go!

Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, or free, but Christ is all and is in all.
12Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with hearts of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. 13Bear with each other and forgive any complaint you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. 14And over all these virtues put on love, which is the bond of perfect unity. 15Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, for to this you were called as members of one body. And be thankful.

Colossians 3:11-15

The post Of all the places, which one did you like best? appeared first on Stories of Our Boys.

One of my favorite parts of this strange life we lead is choosing my next house. With each one, I say, “Such and such a thing is killing me. Our next house will DEFINITELY have….

-sidewalks

-a bigger master bedroom closet

-4 bedrooms

-more kitchen cabinets!!

It’s always something.

I love getting to see new places and try new set-ups. I don’t even mind redecorating, though it takes so long to get a house looking the way I want it to look that it’s always time to move before I finish.

My mother-in-law is wanting to do a project, which she probably saw on Pinterest. She asked me to dig out a photo of all the houses we’ve lived in for this project.

This is no easy task, but it got me thinking. It’d be fun to do a blog post about all the different houses we’ve occupied. Some of them weren’t “houses” exactly, but they were our homes, for a little while.

2002 Alabama

We got married in 2002, but Alan was away at training for most of that time. I was the weird-o married Resident Assistant for my very last semester of college.

This dear old dormitory is now slated for ye olde wrecking ball. A new Tutwiler Hall is being built “adjacent” to the current building.

2003 Texas

Our first house together!

There is no excitement like moving into your very first home together as a married couple. The sad cloud that hung over us was that on our drive into town, they announced on the radio that Alan’s unit was headed straight for Iraq. This was 2002. We weren’t even in Iraq yet. I was devastated.

Thankfully, we were able to squeeze in 3 blissful months together in this house before Alan was shipped out.

My crowning achievement was that flower bed. It was no longer puny under my watch. When we moved out only 18 months later, it was a glorious bed of petunias surrounding the bushes. The move-out inspector was so impressed, he didn’t charge me a dime for the giant bleach stain on the hallway carpet. I was never good at carpet.

2004 Texas

Alan came home a year later and wanted to move onto the military base, so off we went, from our beautiful civilian 3 bed, 2 bath duplex, across the street from my best buddy, over to this old, ugly 2 bed/1 bath duplex on the base. As you can probably tell, I wasn’t thrilled about it, and I never felt like I truly belonged in it, but whatever. Another year, another rental.

2005 Arizona

We were ecstatic to receive orders to move out west in 2005 because if Alan had stayed where we were, he would’ve gone straight back to Iraq in 2005/2006.

This house holds a special place in our hearts, largely because Joshua was born there, but also because it was a fun place to live. It had shag carpet, no air-conditioning, a pebble yard, and a pool in the backyard. I’m telling you, I’d still want to live there. I can’t even explain it.

2006-2008 Back to Alabama

Oh, 2006, what a year! You couldn’t pay me to repeat it, but that’s another story. We had summer orders again, so we bought a house in Texas. Alan called me on my plane trip to the new house to tell me, “I have new orders. We’re headed back to the South instead. Not Texas.”

We flipped house A, crashed at Alan’s parents’ house for a month, and then rented a house in location B, a lovely split foyer that came with a swing set in back. This lovely split-foyer felt humongous, just the two of us and our baby.

Then along came baby #2, so this house has a special place in our hearts as well. It was a terrible job, though. Alan was never home. Then we went from that job to another Iraq deployment. This time Alan would be gone for 15 months! I decided to move closer to my parents. Parenting 2 babies by myself was more than I could handle, and I knew it.

Off we went again…

2008-2009 South Alabama

Living near my parents for the deployment was a dream. Dad cut my grass, Mom and Dad babysat all the time, plus I had somewhere to go hang out–my parents’ house! But at the end of the day, we still had our pretty “deployment house” to come home to.

2009-2011 Washington, D.C.

The year of two delightful snow blizzards: 2009 and 2010, we lived in D.C. Actually, we lived in this little town house until 2011. I felt crammed, and I was longing for a single family home, so we relocated to the suburbs of north Virginia.

D.C. was such an adventure for us. As a family of four, we were fairly portable and enjoyed traveling the city together. We also hosted dozens of friends and family members who wanted to see the capitol city without spending $400/night for a hotel room, and we loved hosting everyone. I’d do that all over again in a heart beat. Our D.C. years are full of fond memories.

I can explain about that chair. It was just the four of us during those years. Alan and I had put Joshua and Caleb to bed in the respective bedrooms, and we thought they were asleep. We were downstairs playing Ticket to Ride, I believe. When the game was over, Alan went upstairs first and found this marker mayhem chair mess in the office. It was quickly discovered that Caleb, age 2, was obviously not asleep at all, and during his insomnia he had tiger striped the chair, himself, the floor, the wall, and popped all the keys off my laptop keyboard. Yep. All in one night. Back then, we weren’t sure how we would ever survive that little boy, but now it all makes for smiley memories.

What did he have to say for himself that night? He said, “I a tiger!! Rawrrrrr!”

2011-14 Virginia

Living in North Virginia, we continued to host friends and family who came to visit. Plus, we entered the world of being elementary school parents. Also, Alan went to Afghanistan for a while.

We loved our Virginia neighborhood and lived there longer than any house we’ve ever lived in. The house and yard were both spacious, and we fell in love with the community.

2014-16 California

I cannot find a picture of what the front of the house looked like. I’m officially starting a new tradition of photographing our houses, but if you look across the street in this photo you will see another house with an upstairs balcony. That was what our house looked like too.

This was our 3rd military housing experience, and our best one by far. This privatized Navy house is the biggest home we’ve ever lived in. The neighborhood was gorgeous, and our master bedroom had a balcony on it! Not only that, but if you looked through the bushes at just the right angle, you could catch a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean. Such a dreamy place to live for our two home school years!

2016-18 Georgia

Desperate to be done home schooling, we drastically down-sized in Georgia so that we could afford good private school tuition. Still, I loved that house. It had only 3 bedrooms, yes, but the rooms were large, all of the rooms in this house were huge, the master bath was amazing, and it had a fun backyard with a massive hill in it.

2018-19 Back to Virginia

Now that we’ve left the Virginia house I am convinced that the split foyer house is the BEST house for us. I know many of you think I am crazy and that we need a bigger home, but we do not. We needed more closet space and more kitchen cabinets, but that could be done if you own the home.

Why it was perfect: All of the main living space is on one floor. It makes getting kids ready for school in the morning a billion times easier than our current situation. The boys will also tell you that they loved that house. All split foyers have a massive downstairs room, which our kids used for video games, and yet they never felt far away. I still knew what was going on down there.

We’ve lived in split foyers twice, once in Alabama and then this Virginia one, and I gotta say, I think they are surprisingly functional.

2019 Maryland

I appreciate our house here. We actually bought this one because we expect to stay a while, but I miss how compact our last two houses were. Now I’m back to trying to figure out where everyone is. You hear people say often in our house, “Where are you???” Ugh.

How I miss our 3 bedroom in Georgia and our split foyer. I don’t think we will be one of those families who retires to a mini mansion. Give me a nice ranch with a screened in porch and a neighborhood with sidewalks. Oh, and of course, tons of kitchen cabinets.

Now just for fun, here’s a bonus question for long time blog readers and family. Can you tell which state the house in this next photo was in?

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A couple of moves ago, my mom was visiting us, and she was noticing my boys sitting with a new friend they’d made. She said, “That’s funny. It’s like they have that same friend at every place y’all move to.”

I’d never thought of it that way, but that made me stop and think. We meet all new people with each move. In fact, it usually takes us a year to figure out who exactly the new main characters of our lives will be.

But the boys do often make friends more quickly than we do. There’s usually an outgoing boy close to their ages who will take to them. He’s always a little more secure than we are, more energetic even, but good. We haven’t run into many boys we didn’t think were good kids, honestly. Sometimes it’s a neighbor and sometimes a church or school friend, but there’s always at least one good friend, who according to my mom, is exactly like all their friends in the past.

That made me think about myself. Do I have that one same friend at each place? Hmmm. No, I don’t exactly, BUT there are certain roles that your friends fulfill, and eventually I do tend to find that at each place.

Maybe you can relate. Here are a few of my favorite kinds of friends. Which one are you? Which one am I for you? I think I’m different ones for different people, depending on their circumstances.

The 10 Friends You Need at Each Duty Station

#1. The Outgoing Friend Who Gets You Out of the House

I could sit here and name names here. What’s funny is they always managed to arrived when I needed them most. God knew what he was doing.

This friend is IMPORTANT. Every single one of these seems to have come along at a time when I was feeling alone and needed someone to pull and tug me out of my pjs and out into the world. Maybe they are less insecure than me. They want to get out and see the world and for some reason have decided to take you with them.

The outgoing friend can keep you from a world of isolation, which can be a sad road to go down. They are fun too, and conversation is so easy with them because they will happily do most of the talking. But their never ending ideas for talking topics helps you to get talking too because they are just the master of this.

#2. The Everything in Common Friend

You have so much in common with this person that it feels unreal– amazing. How is this possible? And yet it is.

They are from the same state, the same college, or they have the same kind of kids, and they even get why this or that didn’t work out for you because it didn’t work out for them either! Maybe you wear the same size dress and listen to the same music. You both love Anne of Green Gables and don’t really care about Star Wars.

The everything in common friend is sometimes a special bond level of friend, but if one of you isn’t outgoing or careful about communication she will be harder to keep in touch with than Outgoing Friend.

#3. The Healthy Friend

This lady doesn’t eat sugary stuff or fatty fare either. She exercises daily and looks like you did at 24. It can be tempting to be jealous of her or to hide from her if she’s the kind that’s trying to change you. But get to know her before you run away. Your friendship may help you add years to your life and have less heartburn.

Most of my super fit friends have been very fun and have not tried to take away my hamburgers or force their tofu on me.

Much can be learned from her. I used to watch what Amy (half of my friends are named Amy) would order when we ate out and try to copy it. That way I knew for at least that meal I was “eating healthy.”

#4. The Helping Friend

Being a natural helper is a whole personality type. It’s a wonderful personality, but you have to be careful because you don’t want to take advantage of them. This friend loves to help others. She will actually even think of your needs before you say them. It’s a gift.

The helper friend will also take on your problems sometimes. She’s perfect to have around, but we just have to be sure to help her sometimes too.

So actually you can also learn from the helper. From her we can learn how to help and think more selflessly. You will want to pack her in your suitcase and take her with you to your next duty station, but alas, she has a life of her own.

#5. The Hilarious Friend

Some people can’t help but be funny. I have a friend in Virginia who cracks me up so hard, with barely even trying. She is gasping-for-air level funny.

That whole “what people remember about you is how you made them feel”, this is most obvious with the hilarious friend. I need more of these in my life!

#6. The Wiser Friend

She may not even be much older than you, but she seems to have just been there/done that on everything. Her kids are older, so she knows the phase you are going through with yours and doesn’t judge.

Older friend adds perspective to what you’re going through. She says things like, “It’s just a phase. He’ll grow out of it,” or “Try doing….yada yada yada.. That’s what I did, and it worked for us!”

We all need the older friend to listen to. Now I’m not talking about the one who has forgotten all the problems and sees the past through rose-colored glasses, but the one who has done what we’re doing and can still remember the pain!

#7. The Young One

Don’t underestimate the younger friend who asks for our advice and doesn’t even have forehead wrinkles yet. The young one has a place too.

Young friend is still optimistic and energetic. Her idealism is something we’ve forgotten, and it can be okay to be reminded. Also it’s our job to help her with the struggles of young parenting, when in fact, she wants our help.

Also, sometimes her energy can be contagious. I remember being with a younger mom of three a couple of years ago. She was listing the twenty thousand things she was doing that day. All I could think was, “Good gracious. That is an insane amount of places to be in one day. Did I ever do that?? Maybe I could do more…”

#8. The Meal Bringer

Whether it’s a surgery or a newborn baby or just a nervous breakdown, there’s always that one who will make you a meal and bring it to your house. God bless these women. There is no more glorious sight! And goodness knows, between 2013 and 2016, I was ever so thankful for the meal bringer.

#9. The Non-Judgey Friend

God bless the often irreverent, non-judgmental friend. She is right up there with the hilarious one. Irreverent friend says things you would not post on Facebook. She offers wine, makes time for coffee, and provides the most honest of advice.

You can say literally ANYTHING to her, and she will not judge you. When something crazy has happened, she is the first one to call because you don’t have to clean up any of the details. Tell it like it is. She doesn’t care.

#10. The Neighbor

You’ve planned a whole recipe, got it halfway cooked, and then realized you have no tomatoes, not even canned tomatoes. What to do? You call your neighbor. They always have diced tomatoes, or butter, or milk.

They have a key to your house when you’re out of town, know how to let the dog out for ya, and check your mail. It’s a sad, sad world without at least one neighbor friend.

These are just fun attributes, but the bottom line is friends are worth their weight in gold. I wish I could take all of mine along with me every time we move and we could just build our own colony– in Monterey –but without all the taxes!

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The Military life is a unique one for sure.

Sometimes I find myself saying things that are sort of ridiculous, so I took a few minutes to jot a few down. Maybe you can relate.

“I just can’t possibly sit through another church’s new member class. I won’t do it.”

–I said this with all the drama and emphasis you can imagine. Sitting for more than 30 minutes is agonizingly painful for my back, so new church member classes are both boring and torturous. I do not care about how many big theology school words you can throw around. You preach salvation by faith in Jesus. You stick to God’s word? I’m good. I’ve visited a few times, and everything seems to be right on. Add me to the roll. Do not put me through another one of those hours long classes.

“I moved the box of books to the basement, so really I’m done.”

When moving, “done” is definitely a relative term.

“I have 4 children, and the youngest is in 1st grade, but I know nothing more than a kindergarten parent here. Literally, I know nothing.”

New schools are each intimidatingly different from whatever their last school was, and they don’t go over the basics with 3rd grade classes the way they do for kindergarten parents, so you hang on to every word at Open House and read all the papers. Next year I can be more cool.

“We’ve moved 4 times in 5 years. Yes. 2014: Virginia to California. 2016: Cali to Georgia. 2018: Georgia to Virginia. 2019: Virginia to Maryland.”

This is what I said to Alan this week. He had asked, “4 times in 5 years? Is that really true?” So then I recited the list of moves.

“Yes, I know I have an Alabama driver’s license, Texas plates, and a Washington, D.C. insurance policy. I’m an Army wife. My husband is overseas in Afghanistan. They make us move a lot, and we are not required to get new licenses as part of a military exception. Can you please not give me a ticket?”

Okay. That one was actually 8 years ago I said that, and that Alabama state trooper did in fact still give me a speeding ticket. Oh well, I guess I was speeding, and you can’t win them all. I win almost none of them. If I get pulled over, you can be guaranteed I will also get a ticket.

“We haven’t decided whether or not to fool with curtains yet.”

“Maryland is the most expensive state in the union, and that is coming from someone who has lived in California, D.C. and northern Virginia.”

It’s the everyday costs more so than the housing costs I’m referring to, ya’ll. They charge you exorbitant fees to take your grass clippings, there are high HOA fees, and don’t even get Alan started on how expensive it was to register our vehicles. However, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that school lunch is only $2.50.

“You have got to see the Goodwill store here. It’s amazing.”

“I’m still getting up the nerve to go see my PCM because I don’t know if it will be a nice, helpful one or a mean, lazy one.”

You would not believe some of the experiences I’ve had, unless you’ve been a mil spouse or just a person for a long time too. Then you would definitely get it. Choosing a doctor blindly can be scary.

“We don’t have a dentist yet to put on this form, but they just had their check-ups 2 months ago, so we are not going quite yet.”

“I can’t pick a dentist blindly. How do you know the good ones from the ones who invent cavities to fill?”

I’m telling you, this happens.

“This place has the coolest library EVER!!”

“Where do people go here to eat BBQ?”

“I still can’t remember which day is trash and which day is recycling.”

Okay I know I said 14, but here are 2 more because they just keep coming to me…

“Honey! What is our zip code???”

“Wait. What state do I live in?”

I usually ask myself this at the grocery store for some reason. The sad thing is that it’s not just a freshly-moved problem. It’s a frequent-mover thing. It could be a year since our last move, and I will ask myself this in the store, usually wondering if I will be able to find certain regional foods, like Dale’s meat tenderizer.

Hope you enjoyed the list! Feel free to add to it in the comments section! Maybe I can make a Part 2.

Okay…Just one more!

“I rescheduled my heart procedure for 2 months out because that way Alan should definitely be in town. Hopefully.”

The post 14 Crazy Things I Said this Week that Make Perfect Sense for a Military Wife appeared first on Stories of Our Boys.