Deserve to be Loved

"My name is Christine and I deserve to be loved."

 

Not too long ago things began changing in my life. I realized that I was living in a marriage that couldn't even be called a marriage anymore. I realized that I was putting everyone else ahead of myself. I realized that I was accepting less than I should in life. I realized that I was putting up with way more than any person should ever be asked to put up with. I realized I was pouring out everything I had into a relationship that was going nowhere, a job that doesn't make me happy and a life that I wasn't proud of.

 

This is not the kind of life I wanted to live. I remembered being a girl with goals and dreams. I remembered being a girl who believed in love. I remembered being a girl who didn't want to settle anymore.

 

But I realized that I was settling. I had given up on my goals and my dreams. I had given up on love.

 

All because of a person. And that wasn't the right answer.

 

 

So a few months ago I began taking back my life and living for myself. I started taking care of myself, eating healthy again and going hard at the gym and taking the time to heal the pain in my hip. I started spending as much time with my daughter as I can and doing new things with her. I discovered a love for hiking and nature that I didn't know existed inside of myself. I re-discovered a love for shooting. I started looking towards my future with my daughter and thinking about the example I wanted to set for her. I began to set goals for myself again.

 

I've spent a lot of time thinking about my life and what I want for myself.

 

I still want a career. I still want adventure. I still want happiness. I still want love.

 

And that's where I get stuck. Because over the past few months I have come to really understand myself. I've come to understand why it is that I settle and why I put up with so much from the people that I enter into relationships with. I've come to understand what goes through my head that I am willing to sacrifice my own happiness and my own ability to love.

 

At the core of my being, I don't feel as though I deserve to be loved.

 

That statement is me, in a nutshell.

 

 

And that belief, that feeling, that understanding is what keeps me from being in a successful relationship. I run from the people who I feel could love me with that unconditional love that is a true characteristic of a deep and meaningful relationship. I literally run.

 

I've done it twice. A few weeks of talking, and a few dates into it, I'm running for the hills. I convince myself that the relationship would never work for reasons x, y, and z. I tell myself that I don't like them or that I'm not at a point in my life where I can be in a relationship. I push all of my feelings inside myself and I ignore them until they go away and I tell them it just isn't going to work for me.

 

Now why I feel this way goes a long ways back. I know what it stems from, and I know that it is not something I could control. I am working on moving past all of this. I am trying to believe that I am a person who deserves to be loved.

 

I've never felt like I really fit in anywhere. I always felt like an outsider. I wasn't in band, I didn't play sports, I wore glasses and I was thin and awkward. I didn't belong to the "in crowd" but I wasn't really an "outcast". I guess you could say I sort of fit in a little bit of everywhere. But who really wants to hang out with a group of people that you don't really feel like you belong with? I'd rather just be a misfit and do my own thing. 

 

 

There are so many people in my life who are constantly telling me that I am amazing and beautiful and kind and generous. They tell me that I'm worthy of being loved and that I shouldn't settle for anyone who wants to dull who I am or make me feel small. They tell me that I am wonderful and that I deserve to have someone wonderful in my life.

 

Part of me wants to believe them. Part of me wants to hear truth in their words. But then there's this voice in my head that says they are wrong and that it's all a lie. This voice tells me I'm not pretty enough, not thin enough, not smart enough, not important enough, not worthy of love.

 

I am fighting that voice with everything I have. I am spending a lot of time and energy to force that tiny little voice to just go away. I am trying to believe that I am a person who deserves the life and the love she has always dreamed of.

 

 

I'm starting with the line I wrote at the beginning of this post.

 

"My name is Christine and I deserve to be loved."

 

Here's to hoping that one day I actually believe it.

I Wasn't Sad

A couple of weeks ago I had a conversation with an old friend. I have been friends with her for over a decade. We have had our fair share of ups and downs, just like most friendships do. But despite the lows (and, oh, there have been lows) she still remains a dear friend whom I will care for always.

Our most recent conversation really hit home for me, though. She said that though her and her husband had only recently separated, she had been mourning her marriage for six months. She wasn't sure if she wanted to move on, or even if she was quite ready. But she had done her mourning, even while he was still living at home.

After a period of reflection over the course of several days I came to realize why this statement had struck a chord with me. It's because I, too, had done my mourning for a love lost while I was still existing in my marriage. I was stuck in a routine, doing what I had to do to get through each day, just taking the verbal and emotional abuse because I didn't feel as though I had any other option. But I wasn't invested in my marriage the way that I should have been.

For three years I supported him, I encouraged him, I challenged him, I saw potential in him, I believed in him, and I sacrificed for him.

I did all of these things for him, only to find out he wouldn't do the same for me. Over time it became abundantly clear that I was not going to receive from him what I was giving. I loved someone who didn't love me back in the same way.

Maybe I was a comfortable life. Maybe I was an easy way out. Maybe I was a get out of jail free card of sorts. I'm not sure what exactly what I was to him. But I know I wasn't someone to love.

I knew all of these things a year ago. And, honestly, that should have been the end of us. It almost was. We had an awful fight the night before I flew home from Arizona and he threatened to leave me if I didn't give up some of my friends. And I gave in because I wanted so badly for this to work. And at that moment, as well as others before then, he asked me to give up a part of who I was.

And I did it.

I probably shouldn’t have done that. Because it made him think that it was okay to continue to ask me to give up pieces of myself. And it made me believe that was my only option.

That night I began mourning my marriage and what I had wanted, hoped, and prayed it would be. But I continued to exist in my marriage, living in mourning, resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t have what I had wished for- my happily ever after.

I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t in love. I wasn’t excited for our future.

I just existed.

So, eight months later, when I finally reached my breaking point, I wasn’t really sad.

I was angry with things that I had learned, I was hurt by words he had said, I was upset that I had let it go on for so long.

But I wasn’t sad.  

Even though I put on a smiling face for those eight months and pretended all was well and tried to look forward to a future, it was all just an act. I was pretending. I was lying to myself and to everyone around me, family and friends alike.

I know there are people out there who will take this and twist my words. I can almost even predict what they will say.

But it doesn’t change the fact that this is my reality. I was a broken spirit, living inside a human shell. I was mourning a relationship I still existed in. So when my marriage ended, and it has ended, I wasn’t sad.

I was relieved. I was unburdened. I was relaxed.

But I wasn’t sad.

I had done my mourning.

And it was time to move on.

Whatever that meant.

Surviving Emotional Abuse

Not too long ago I sat down and I wrote a post. I wrote about pain and struggle. I wrote about strength and supportive family and friends. At that point in time that was really all I could write about. Everything else hurt too much to begin to put into words. Or at least into more words than one can type in an Instagram caption.

 

But I woke up today and felt the need to write. I feel like it is time to put into words the things that I am struggling to put behind me. I feel like I need to start telling my story a little bit more.

 

I could start at the beginning. But that would be way more than I feel is absolutely necessary. Especially considering that a large portion of the relationship is already documented in this blog if you read back far enough.

 

Honestly, I should have seen all of this coming a long time ago. I should have paid attention and seen the signs. I should have focused on the issues we were having instead of brushing them under the rug to deal with later. I could have saved myself, and my daughter, a lot of heart ache and tears. But we all make mistakes and we all want to believe in fairy tales. It just so happens that my fairy tale turned into a nightmare.

 

There were always little things in our relationship that bothered me. His need to be with me all the time. His need to have his way all the time. The way he worked systematically to remove some of my closest friends from my life. The way he thought my daughter's medical issues didn't exist. The way he spoke about some of my family members. Those things always bothered me, but I thought we would work on them in time.

 

Well, I tried to work on them. Once we moved to my first duty station and had a place of our own, I tried to work on them. I spent months begging him to go to counseling with me to work on some of these things. I told him repeatedly that I didn't want to listen to him talk down about my family members anymore. I constantly told him of my dreams for my career in the military and he shot them down at every turn. I asked continuously for him to help out around the house because I was working full time and couldn't do everything on my own. I reminded him that the friends he didn't want me to have had been my friends longer than I had known him and he didn't have to trust them, only me.

 

But to no avail. Every argument ended with an ultimatum- his way or he would leave. So for months I chose to let it be his way. I did everything myself, I didn't talk to my friends, I put my career goals on hold, I bottled up every emotion I had and held them all deep inside. I put on a mask every day when I went to work. No one had any idea how bad it was at home.

 

No one knew that we fought at least every other day. No one knew that he would get so angry and upset that he would punch walls or furniture. No one knew that he would throw things across the room. No one knew how terrified I was that one day he would hit me or my daughter. I kept all of that a secret. Because I didn't think anyone would believe me. Because to everyone else he was such a happy guy with an awesome sense of humor who never let anything get to him.

 

I started realizing how truly awful the situation was when I went TDY a couple months ago. I spent two weeks out of town, but I called and texted as often as I could. But then one night I was going through my Facebook and realized that I had several people listed as blocked. Except I had never blocked them. I never would have blocked them. Because these people were some of my closest friends.

 

At that point there was only one explanation- he had blocked them. And then everything came crashing down. I realized how deeply I had been hurting for the last several months, if not years. I realized how much he had crushed my soul. I realized that I had been walking around for months feeling like a broken spirit inside a human shell. I realized I wasn't myself. I wasn't happy or optimistic. I wasn't enjoying the things I used to love. I wasn't living life the way I had always envisioned I would.

 

And I realized that I didn't have to live my life that way.

 

After that, everything began to unfold. I was able to tug at strings and unravel numerous lies. I was able to contact people and confirm that what he said was not true. I was able to see clearly the depths of his deception and how many lies he had told to cover other lies. I was shocked at the lengths he went to in order to keep me from finding things out. And I was hurt that he felt it was ok to do that to me.

 

Over the course of the next three weeks our relationship dissolved into nothing. I asked him to move out of my house when I realized that his presence was having a physical effect on me. I wasn't sleeping, I was hardly eating, I was constantly shaking and on edge all the time. My own home had become an unhealthy environment for me and that was not ok. I couldn't feel that unhealthy or that unsafe in my home and still expect my daughter to be comfortable there. So I asked him to leave. And, thankfully, he did.

 

Since then I have been able to uncover more lies and discover more truths than I ever thought possible. I have realized how toxic my marriage was and I am working to heal the scars that are hidden deep in my soul. I am using Instagram and Facebook as outlets for my pain. I am not hiding anymore. I am sharing my story and I am finding strength within myself.

 

I know I have the potential to be so many things in this life. I know I am capable of reaching my goals and then going even further. All those things he said I couldn't do- become an Officer, talk to my friends, trust my family? I'm going to do them. Because he can't dictate my life anymore. He can't make me feel small anymore. He can't force me to shrink myself or to be less than myself anymore. He can't control me anymore.

 

There is still a lot of pain left to work through. Every day is still a struggle. Sometimes I find myself thinking through it all and wondering if maybe he was right and I'm just crazy for thinking all of this. But those are the moments I pick up the phone and I call someone who will remind me that I'm not crazy and that what he did, what he is still trying to do, is not ok.

 

I am left with a lot of self-esteem, self-confidence and self-worth issues. I struggle to believe in myself some days. I struggle to see myself for the amazing person everyone says that I am. I struggle to understand just how far I can go in life. It's hard to see the bright side of the future when you've been told it's dark for so long.

 

But I know I will get there one day. I will survive this. I will find strength and peace within myself. And I will be happy. Completely happy.

 

Because I deserve nothing less.

 

I know there are people in this world who will read this and think I should just "get over it". There are people who won't believe a word of what I write. There are people who will go out of their way to convince others I'm lying or I'm crazy or I'm just seeking attention.

 

But they haven't experienced what I'm feeling. They haven't walked a mile in my shoes.

 

So talk all you want.

 

I'll just be over here.

 

Surviving emotional abuse.

One Call Away

"I'm only one call away.

I'll be there to save the day.

Superman got nothing on me.

I'm only one call away."

 

-One Call Away by Charlie Puth

 

The past month and a half has been a struggle for me. If you've been following along on Facebook or Instagram you may have noticed a difference in my regular posts.

 

The photos I've shared have been about a variety of things. I've shared photos about emotional abuse. I've shared photos about pain. I've shared photos about strength. And all of these posts have been purposeful.

 

Maybe some of you have seen them and thought I was posting in support of a movement. Or perhaps in support of a friend who is going through a difficult time.

 

I'm not.

 

I'm posting them for myself. I am the one going through the difficult time. I am the one who has been experiencing emotional abuse. I am the one who has been in pain. I am the one who is digging as deep as she can inside herself to find every last bit of strength she can and put it to use just to get through the day.

 

I'm struggling. Every day. Getting out of bed, going to work. putting a smile on my face for my daughter and for my coworkers. It isn't easy. It takes more effort than I care to admit. And by the end of each day I am utterly exhausted.

 

But then I can't sleep. So I am up until all hours of the night, surfing Facebook, reading books, scrolling through Instagram, thinking.

 

It's the thinking that gets me. It gets me every damn time. Thinking about what I envisioned for my future. Thinking about what I wanted for myself, for my daughter, for our life. Thinking about the path I believed I was on. Thinking about the trust I put in another person only to have it thrown in my face. Thinking about the lies and the deceit. Thinking about the pain caused by someone who said they loved me. The pain caused by someone who has told me they knew all along how deeply they had been hurting me... and they did it anyways.

 

And then I take the time while I should be sleeping to try and think more positively. To find hope and strength. To find compassion in my heart. To find healing and discover the depths of my ability to forgive. To feel worthy and to feel loved. To know that I can overcome all of the negativity I have experienced for so many months.

 

It's a struggle. Every day is a struggle.

 

But you know what?

 

I'm going to make it.

 

Over the past several weeks I have come to lean on my family and a few close friends for support. They have been there for me in ways I never could have imagined. And they have been there for me in ways I'm sure they don't even know they have been.

 

I feel so incredibly blessed to have these people in my life. So blessed to be able to call them my family and friends. So blessed to have relationships in my life that help me to feel worthy and loved. So blessed to have people who believe in me and who would do anything to support me. So blessed to have family and friends who are just one call away.

 

These friends and family members have been there for me in some of my worst times. They have seen me struggle. They have seen me fall. They have seen me stand back up again. They have seen me fail, and then seen me succeed. They have seen me settle for less than I deserve, in life and in love.

 

And they are here for me.

 

I am so incredibly thankful for the people in my life who are only one call away. I cannot begin to describe how much their kindness and generosity and love means to me. Words could never do justice what I feel in my heart for these people.

 

They know who they are. And it is my fondest hope that they will read these words and know how much I appreciate them being here for me in this time.

 

To all my friends and family who have shown me that they are just one call away, please know that I am forever thankful.

 

And remember that I, too, am only one call away.

 

 

Chores: A Family Responsibility

Let's talk about chores.

I have never personally met anyone who actually enjoys doing chores. They aren't my favorite, they aren't my husband's favorite, and they definitely aren't my daughters favorite. If I had to guess, they probably aren't your favorite either.

Am I right? Or am I right?

However we may feel about chores, they are a part of life. If no one does the chores then we live in chaos. And I don't know about you, but I don't really want to live in a pig sty... Despite what my childhood bedroom may or may not have told you to the contrary...

Chores aren't fun. I hate doing the dishes. I hate sweeping the floors. I hate dusting the furniture. I hate cleaning the toilets. I hate giving the dogs baths and brushing their teeth. I don't really like chores. But they are a part of my every day life, regardless of how I feel about them.

My husband doesn't like chores. He doesn't like doing the dishes. He doesn't like doing the laundry. He doesn't like all of the things mentioned above. But, regardless of how he feels about them, they are a part of his life, too.

My daughter? She really doesn't like chores. She's nine years old and would rather be outside playing with her friends. Or playing with her Legos. Or watching Netflix. Or reading a book. Because who really wants to put their laundry away when they could be down the block on their bike?

Now I will be the first to say that my daughter doesn't have much to do in the way of chores. Of course she is responsible for clearing her dishes from the table after she's eaten, cleaning up her toys in her room and making sure the floor down her hallway is kept clear for people to walk. But I don't really consider those to be chores.

Kaley's "chores" are putting away her laundry, taking out the recycles and cleaning up the yard after the dogs. Those few things have been her chores for over three years now.

This past week, it was brought to my attention that maybe Kaley shouldn't be responsible for cleaning up after the dogs. People have said it shouldn't be her responsibility for reasons like they aren't her dogs, her step dad is home all day and it's just gross.

Sure, dog poop is pretty disgusting. No one wants to deal with it. But in our home they are her responsibility.

Yeah, her step dad is home all day. But he's also had nine spine surgeries and when they implanted the spinal cord stimulator in the summer of 2014 he was told that bending over could pull the wires out of the device and render it useless.

No, none of the dogs are really "labeled" as being "Kaley's dog". Why is this? Because we have asked her to show that she is responsible enough to take care of a dog. And she hasn't quite done that yet.

So, while we wait, two of the dogs remain "mine" and the other is a service dog for my husband.

But are we really in the wrong for expecting her to clean up the yard after the dogs?

And, let's be real- we live in South Carolina where it rains more days than it doesn't. So how often is she really out in the backyard cleaning up dog poop? Maybe once every three weeks when we've finally had four or five days without rain.

Maybe our understanding of things that should be a kids responsibility are out of line... Maybe we shouldn't expect our kids to do the same kinds of things we were expected to do as kids... Maybe kids are meant to live a life free of responsibility...

But not my kid. My child is expected to be a functional member of this family, with specific responsibilities to help our family be the best we can be. And if we all share the household responsibilities, even the ones we don't enjoy, then we will have more time to spend with one another and doing the things we love.

Because no one person should be responsible for everything if the home is meant to be happy.

The Child I'm Raising

I know this first post should probably be one that re-introduces myself and my family and talks about all of the things we've been up to for the past nearly two years... But it isn't going to be. I'll get around to that. I promise.

I was scrolling through my Facebook Newsfeed for probably the 52nd time today (because who doesn't spend at least 3 hours of their day stuck on Facebook!?) when a post caught my eye.

It was a link to an article that was titled Good Parenting Summed Up in 15+ Pictures. Since the title had my attention, I clicked on the link. Because we all click on at least 73.4 links on Facebook everyday, right?

As I looked through the pictures in this post, I began thinking about my own daughter. Some of these pictures reminded me of things she would do. For example, there is a picture of a little boy
helping" a bunny climb a wall. The bunny he's helping? It's part of a statue. But it was important to him that he be kind enough to "help" the bunny climb the wall to its' friends.

Things like what that little boy was doing are things that Kaley does. And up until I read it in black and white, I hadn't realized that it could be considered a sign of good parenting. I hadn't thought about it in those terms.

I've been the parent who has seen her daughter do those things and urged her to just continue on because she wasn't actually helping anything. I've been the parent who has seen her daughter do things like that and been frustrated by the fact that we were now running thirty seconds behind schedule. I've been the parent who witnessed her child crying because she couldn't follow the fire truck to see if her friends up the road were ok.

But I should have been thinking about how kind hearted my daughter was in those moments. I should have been seeing how warm and loving she was to those around her, even the animals she considers her friends. I should have been noticing how willing she was to lend a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on.

I shouldn't have been focused on the ten seconds we lost when she wanted to "talk" to the squirrel. I shouldn't have worried about the fact that she was "helping" or "feeding" an inanimate object. I shouldn't have told her she was being silly for these little things.

Those small little things my daughter does? I've never seen them for what they truly are- her gifts to the world around her. I've never considered that they were signs of good parenting. I've never thought of them as a symbol that while she may test my patience and drive me up the wall, she is a kind little girl with an open heart and mind.

I realize now that I have taught her well to appreciate the world around her. I have taught her well to be kind to others, even when you don't always agree. I have taught her well to be patient with children younger than her and to help when they ask. I have taught her well to live with a kind heart and an open mind.

I am proud of my daughter. I am proud of the young woman she is becoming. I am proud of the child I have raised, and I look forward to the rest of the days I have left to watch her grow into the woman she is meant to be.

Even if she does drive me crazy most days.

More Than Battle Buddies

I have been in the Army for almost seven months now.

 

Seven months sounds like a long time, but it really isn't. It's quick. It's short. It's nothing compared to the life that I still have left to live and the life I am providing for my family.

 

Is it hard to be away? Absolutely. I miss my beautiful little girl every day. I miss waking up to my husband every morning. I miss cuddling with my dogs while I read my book. I miss it all.

 

But this has been an amazing experience, for myself and for my family.

 

When I joined the Army almost seven months ago my goal was just to make it through BCT and AIT. I wasn't planning on making friends. I wasn't planning on getting to know anyone. I just wanted to get through.

 

And then I got on the plane with four of the craziest guys I have ever met and flew to Oklahoma to begin my journey. Along the way we met a couple others heading to the same place. And when we got there? Talk about a ton of people. There were about 50 of us waiting for the midnight bus. And let me just say that it was a terrible bus ride.

 

We had no idea what we were in for when we stepped off that bus. It was cold. It was raining. We had all our stuff with us. We were a mess. But we got there.

 

And then we made it through reception.

 

Reception was some of the worst days. They were long and tiring and we weren't doing anything but sitting around waiting for our name to be called for the next appointment. Oh, and there was a holiday that week so we spent an extra two days in reception. Joy.

 

But I realized during that time that there was no way I was going to make it through by myself. I started talking to the other females in my platoon and getting to know them. I learned their names, where they were from, what they did before the Army, and why they decided to join. I started making friends.

 

And then we went to the other side of the tracks and began our journey through BCT. And we met the males in our new platoon and began talking to them, getting to know them. We learned their names, where they were from, what they did before the Army, and why they decided to join. We made more friends.

 

And then we talked to the people in other platoons and got to know them. And guess what? We learned their names, where they were from, what they did before the Army, and why the decided to join. And pretty soon I had nearly 200 friends in the Army. It was crazy!

 

My platoon at BCT has seen me laugh, seen me cry, seen me angry, and seen me in pain. My platoon at BCT has been there for me when I've needed someone to just tell me I could do it. My platoon was there for me when I didn't know where else to turn. They supported me, just as I supported them. We helped each other and we made it through. We graduated from Army Basic Combat Training. We did it. And it was an amazing journey.

 

And I walked away with memories of people I will remember for a lifetime (though some of them I wish I wouldn't...).

 

Then I came to AIT with about a third of the people I graduated BCT with. And when we got here we formed a new platoon with Soldiers from another BCT. And we started talking to those soldiers and getting to know them. We learned their names, where they were from, what they did before the Army, and why they decided to join.

 

I have now spent 3 and a half months in AIT. And I have even more friends than I did when I graduated BCT.

 

And I say friends because that is what we have become.

 

These people aren't just my battle buddies. They are my friends. And some of them are my family.

 

They have seen me in my darkest days and supported me and helped me find the light again. These people have picked me up when I've been down. They've laughed with me and helped me to feel included. They have helped me understand what it means to be willing to sacrifice your own life for another.

 

I never want to see these people hurt. I never want to see them cry. I never want to see them struggle.

 

I want them all to succeed. I want them all to know happiness. I want them all to know love.

 

I want them all to feel as though they have a family bigger than just the people back home.

 

I have grown to love these people over the past 3-6 months. I have grown to care so immensely for these people that I don't know how I am going to leave them.

 

I didn't join the Army to make friends. But I will forever be thankful for the bonds that have been created during these initial months and for the people who have become lifelong friends and family to me.

 

Thank you for pushing me through and being there for me.

 

I love you all and I am so proud of each and every one of you.

I am an American Soldier

As you all know, I've been absent from the blogging world (not to mention Facebook and Instagram...) for several months now.

Thank you United States Army.

It's official.

I am a United States Soldier.

Honestly, saying it out loud still seems so unreal. I say it, and I hear myself say it, but it doesn't sound like it could even be possible.

Yes, I went through Basic Combat Training (BCT).

But it still doesn't quite seem real.

Let's talk a little bit about BCT...

During BCT, there was a schedule for everything. From wake-up at 0500 (sometimes earlier) to lights-out at 2100 (sometimes later). We even had a schedule for when we were allowed to do our laundry. If you ran out of socks on Wednesday, you were out of luck because your laundry day wasn't until Thursday. Turn them inside out and call it "good". And then, if you were lucky, you might have been back to the battery in time to wash and dry your clothes.

Now that's not to say BCT wasn't any fun... I had a blast!

I learned how to shoot. I participated in some seriously awesome, massive bruise producing obstacle courses. I learned how to move as a member of a firing team in a combat situation. I made it through a 4K, 8K and 16K road march carrying a 30lb pack. And I made some amazing friends along the way. BCT was an amazing experience and I honestly wish everyone who is physically able was required to go through it once in their lifetime.

Not only did I learn new things, I learned a lot about myself.

I learned that I can be confident in myself.

I completed BCT. Me. I did it all.

I shot 34/40 targets on the range. I passed all three of my PT tests with flying colors. I wore the uniform every day, even when I didn't want to get out of bed. I earned my position as squad leader.

I did those things.

Was it hard? Absolutely.

Did I miss my family each and every day? Hell yes.

But am I proud of what I accomplished? Am I proud of what I am still doing?

More than anything.

People have told me I am selfish for joining the military, especially with my daughter and my husband both needing extra medical care. They have told me I was wrong for leaving them to pursue my dream. They have told me I should have just stayed where I was and lived with the choices I had made.

Let me tell you something.

This isn't just my dream.

This is my husband's dream. My husband fully supports me and tells me how proud he is of me on a daily basis. He is excited for our future and can't wait to live the Army life again, even if he is on the other side of the fence this time.

This is my daughter's dream. It is important for children to grow up knowing their parents have become everything they've ever wanted to be. My daughter is witnessing me becoming the woman and Soldier I have wanted to be since before she is born. She is watching me push myself and succeed. She has seen me earn the right to call myself a Soldier.

This is my family's dream. Joining the Army is going to provide for us, keep us healthy and safe. Becoming an Army family is making us stronger, even when we are apart.

We are an Army family.

I am an American Soldier.

MY Healthy. MY Happy.

Let's talk about body image.

 

This is something I really struggle with. I always have. It's not just a post-baby thing, and, yes, I know my baby is eight years old.

 

When I was little I was a gymnast. I was tiny, I was fast and I had some pretty awesome upper body strength. I was selected for team. My mom was all for it until they told her that her eight year old daughter had to go on a diet and lose weight. She said there was no way it was going to happen and I didn't do gymnastics for very long after that.

 

As I got older, I discovered my love for Irish dance. I began taking classes and I began competing. I was good, I learned quickly and I proved it in competitions. It became the only thing I wanted to do and I dedicated myself to dancing as often as I could, even if it was down the aisles at the grocery store and irritating the heck out of my parents.

 

In middle school, everything changes. Your body changes. Your hormones kick in. You start thinking more about how you look to other people. You find small things about yourself that you don't like. You criticize yourself for things you can't necessarily change.

 

I was an awkward kid with bangs and glasses. I never felt pretty enough. I never felt good enough. I never felt smart enough. But I was thin.

 

I didn't like the mole on my right cheek. I didn't like the way my hair looked. I didn't like my nose. But I was thin.

 

As I progressed through middle school, I began to focus more and more on how thin I was. I wouldn't eat breakfast. Then I wouldn't eat lunch. Then I would lie and tell my Mom that I had eaten a big lunch so I wouldn't have to eat a snack after school. And I ate a few bites of dinner.

 

I wanted to make sure I stayed thin. It was all I had going for me.

 

When I started high school, I got contacts. I had grown a little bit, so I wasn't so awkward. I had changed the way I parted my hair and grown out my bangs. I felt like a completely different person, yet still I felt like I wasn't enough.

 

But I was still thin.

 

I started my freshman year of high school weighing 95lbs. I started my sophomore year weighing just over 100lbs. I was 5'5" tall. I was a walking twig.

 

My junior year everything changed. I was pregnant. I became a wife and a mother. I moved across the country.

 

I was allergic to my own daughter and my pregnancy showed it. Our blood-types were incompatible. I gained 75lbs when I was pregnant. I gained the last 50lbs of it in the last eight weeks.

 

I wasn't thin anymore.

 

After Kaley was born, I immediately dropped about 30lbs. I was sitting somewhere around 150lbs. I hated myself. I hated every inch of myself. But I had just moved across the country and I had no idea what to do. I tried dancing when I could, but I didn't have enough space. I tried walking around the neighborhood, but Kaley would scream every time a plane flew over head. Pinterest didn't exist and I was 17 years old with no idea how to take care of myself.

 

Just before Kaley turned two, her father and I separated. Then and there I decided it was time for a change. I wanted to be healthy and I wanted to be happy. I was determined to get to a point where I was happy with my body again. I started going to the gym and working out. I began running a few years later.

 

In the last six years my weight has fluctuated. I started off with the goal of weighing 120lbs. But after a while I realized that probably wouldn't be the healthiest goal. So I decided I wanted to weigh somewhere around 135lbs and feel good about myself.

 

I reached that goal. I reached the goal a few years ago. But I still didn't feel good about myself, so I kept working at it. I tried desperately to reach my new goal of 125lbs. I managed to get to 127lbs, but I still didn't feel good about myself.

 

What did it come down to? The bulge at my lower belly and my love handles.

 

That was a year ago.

 

Today I still have the bulge at my lower belly and I still have my love handles. Despite going to the gym almost religiously. Despite all of the running and the clean eating I've done. They are still there, though the love handles are finally starting to go away.

 

A little over a month ago I went to MEPS to process my enlistment for the U.S. Army. While I was there, the doctor had to examine my C-Section scar so they could document it. As she was examining my scar, she noted the bulge at my lower belly. And she completely changed my perception of myself.

 

The bulge at my lower belly? That's something that will always be there. It's a result of how they stitched me up after my C-Section. It's something that will never go away, no matter how hard I work to get rid of it. It's just going to be there.

 

Now when I look in the mirror and I see that bulge, it doesn't bother me as much. I worked hard to try and get rid of it and I got discouraged on more than one occasion because it was so stubborn. But now I know it's just a part of me and I feel so much better about myself.

 

Body image is huge in society today. Society tells everyone that they should be thin and they should eat clean and they should do everything they can to get rid of every weird bump on their body. Society doesn't want to see the beauty behind child birth. They want the model who can go from 9 months pregnant to stick thin in twenty-four hours. But that's not real life.

 

I'm not going to stand in front of the mirror and berate myself for having a lower belly bulge anymore. I'm not going to stand on the scale and hate myself for gaining two pounds.

 

I am going to live. I am going to work out, and I am going to eat right and I am going to be healthy.

 

But I am not going to strive to be society's healthy.

 

I am not going to strive to be as thin as the girls on the covers of magazines.

 

I am going to be MY healthy.

 

I am going to be MY happy.

 

Ten Year Dream

Five days.

 

Five days will mark the thirteenth anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Center in New York City.

 

Five days will mark the thirteenth anniversary of unnecessary deaths, the loss of family members and a number of casualties.

 

Five days will mark the thirteenth anniversary of a tragic event that rocked our nation.

 

Also happening in five days?

 

My birthday.

 

Almost thirteen years ago, I woke up thinking it was going to be a birthday like any other birthday. I rolled out of bed, shut off the alarm and went to find something to eat. I ended up in my Mom's room, where she was watching the news. We watched the footage replay of the planes striking the World Trade Center and the chaos that ensued within the surrounding area.

 

It was definitely not a birthday like any other birthday.

 

Most people forgot that it was my birthday. No one sang. No one gave me a hug at school. Nothing. Our country was devastated.

 

Honestly? I wasn't thrilled that it was my birthday. I didn't care that it was my birthday. I was concerned for the people in New York, and then for the people in D.C.

 

My aunt worked in the Pentagon. We were fortunate enough to not lose her that day.

 

It was a national tragedy and every citizen of our country felt the sadness and the grief and the despair down to the very core of their being.

 

...............................................................................................

 

A few years later, when I was 15, we lived through the third anniversary of the tragic events of September 11th. I was dating the boy who would someday become my first husband. He was talking about joining the military when he graduated high school.

 

That got the wheels turning.

 

My birthday had become a day the country recognized and stood together for. My birthday had become a day that many people had joined the military for. My birthday had become a day that many young men and women had died for.

 

I decided my sophomore year of high school that I wanted to join the military.

 

I wanted to join the United States Marine Corps.

 

It became my dream.

 

...............................................................................................

 

My junior year of high school everything changed.

 

I became a wife and a mother.

 

I moved across the country.

 

I began preparing for my life as a wife and a mother.

 

But my dream remained the same.

 

I wanted to serve my country.

 

...............................................................................................

 

Fast forward a couple of years, and my life has completely changed.

 

I'm a mother always, but I'm no longer a wife.

 

I'm learning how to parent on my own and I am spending my time trying to find a way to support my daughter and myself.

 

I know that I am not a candidate for the military as a single parent, but I still haven't given up.

 

I still have my dream.

 

...............................................................................................

 

Now, here we are.

 

Ten years since the dream began.

 

And it's finally becoming a reality.

 

Almost one month ago I enlisted in the United States Army.

 

It's not the Marine Corps. But that's okay. I've been around the Marine Corps long enough to know that they life they live isn't one I want to take part in anymore.

 

My dream became the Army over the years, without even realizing it, I think.

 

I am fortunate enough to have a husband who is a medically retired veteran of the United States Army. He tells me almost every day how much he wishes he could go back and wishes he were still with his unit. He misses being in the Army and the purpose it gave his life. He is thrilled to support me in fulfilling my dream and I'm happy to know that it has become his dream for me.

 

I am also fortunate enough to have a daughter who understands that this family loves its country. That our family has sacrificed for this country and that her mother feels a need to serve her country and fulfill her dream. My daughter is fully supportive of my decision, though she is sad that I have to go away for a little while. She's also excited that when we move to our first duty station and we are all settled she will get to have a kitten.

 

I am incredibly excited to embark on this adventure! Ten years is a long time to wait for a dream to become reality, but I'm glad I waited.

 

I'm glad I had it in me to voice my dream to my husband. I'm glad I had it in me to see the recruited and take the ASVAB. I'm glad I had it in me to finally decide that the best decision for my family, and myself, is to fulfill my dream.

 

Our future is big. Our future is bright. Our future is full of amazing adventures.

 

My family is happy. My family is healthy. And my family is 100% supportive.

 

My hope is that my friends who have followed me since I began blogging a year and a half ago will also be supportive of my decision and continue to follow my journey, and our family's journey, through this incredible experience.

 

So... What do you say?

Saying Goodbye

A few days ago I announced that I intend to shut down my blog and Facebook page. I will also be including my Twitter in this shut down as I hardly use it effectively and only ever post to it when I post to Facebook because I have them linked. It doesn't make sense to keep it for a blog that is no longer up and running.

I briefly mentioned why I am shutting down, but I don't feel that I gave enough information to you. So I am going to in this post.

I first want to say that I absolutely love blogging. It has been so much fun to grow my blog, meet new people and share my experiences of the last nine months with so many people! I am sad to be ending my blogging run, but I think it is what is best for myself and for my family. It's time consuming, and time just isn't something I have on my side right now. This is not a decision I came to easily. I spent over a month praying over this decision, waiting for God to show me the right path. And He has now. God is helping me get my priorities straight.

Why don't I have any time on my hands? Well, because we have a lot going on. Always. And I enjoy it, but I have to be sure to keep my priorities straight. Unfortunately, blogging isn't at the top of the priority list so I'm choosing to remove it from my schedule. It's an added stress to sit here and think that I should be writing for all of you but I just don't have the time to do so. Why would I keep the stress of something on my shoulders when I know I won't be able to get it done anytime soon? It doesn't make sense to me.

Life has always been full of things to do around here. There's just so much to get done all the time. Of course there's Kaley. She's my number one priority, as well as Pat's. We do everything we can to make her life as enjoyable as possible and to spend as much time with her as we can. Yes, there's the inevitable loss of time due to her having to go to school. I have to send her to school and I am happy to say that she loves going to school. And I am lucky enough to be able to work at the school she attends so I get to see her throughout each day. A quick hug when we pass each other in the hall makes all the difference to her!

Then there's my work schedule. I work between 25 and 30 hours each week at the school. But, let's be real. I'm a teacher so my work comes home with me at the end of each day. Between grading papers, lesson planning, communicating with parents and getting my supplies in order for each lesson, I'm looking at working an additional 10 to 15 hours. Unfortunately, though, I don't get paid for those hours. Because of this I have begun working a second job. We're trying to pay for a wedding here, people, and weddings aren't exactly cheap.

And don't forget that I'm still in school. I was 2 points away from a passing score on my last exam. Two. Points. Ridiculous. So I have to retake my exam, but it isn't available for retake until the middle of March. That means I have plenty of time to study and complete my last two classes before I retake the exam, but it takes up a huge chunk of time each week. And I need to take advantage of every opportunity available to get in more studying.

What else? Wedding planning. We're actually doing pretty well when it comes to wedding planning. The date, venue, reception hall and entertainment are all figured out. I have had several meetings with photographers in the last two weeks and am setting up meetings with caterers over the course of the next couple of weeks. I still need to find someone to bake the cake and cupcakes, and then there's a lot of little stuff to get done, but I'm feeling like we are in a good place at the moment. We will get there. I just need some dedicated wedding planning time over the next few months.

Last, but certainly of massive importance is Pat. His appointment with the VA a few days ago didn't end very well. We have several major decisions to make in the next couple of months and a lot of talking to do in terms of our course of action as it pertains to his injuries. And the VA? They're not helpful. At all. I'll just leave it at that.

Add in the other things we have going on like going to the gym, running, coaching cheer, four basketball games every Saturday, and the need for family time, it amazes me that I ever get to bed at night. But I'm managing.

 

All of these things are important in our lives. Kaley loves cheer, Pat enjoys running the scoreboard for the basketball games, and I need to go to the gym and run to keep my sane. I love my jobs, Pat has decided he's going to walk for another ten years, and we will have a beautiful wedding at the end of May.

Our life is busy, but it's a good life. We enjoy the time we spend together and we all work hard to keep our family happy. It isn't easy, but we all make sacrifices and we all understand that everything is worth it in the end.

I will miss blogging. But I hope you all understand that there are a great many more things going on in my life that take precedence over this blog. Maybe someday I will be able to come back. In the meantime, though, I am so thankful to have had the opportunity to share my life with all of you and to meet some of the most amazing people I have ever known. I appreciate each and every one!

Managing Your EMail (in GMail)

Last year I taught Middle School Information Science. This year my grandmother is teaching Middle School Information Science. We have had several updates this school year in terms of technology which allow our older students to have access to many different Google products. One of the things they now have access to through our school is email.

So I was sitting in the computer lab a few weeks back and listening to my grandmother explain to them how to manage their email. Now I know how to manage me email. It's not that difficult. I'm just not good at keeping up with it. But based on the fact that these kids had no idea what the concept of email management was, I thought there are probably a great many more people who don't fully understand the importance of or how to manage their email inbox. So I've put together a list of steps to follow to manage YOUR email. And I've used a before and after picture from my own email inbox to show you that I'm not overly on top of things and that I'm only human like the rest of you.

This morning when I logged into my email for the blog, this is what my email inbox looked like.

There were so many emails in my inbox that didn't even need to be there. Some could go to the trash, others could go into folders, some should be kept because they are important.

When managing your email, you should try to keep the clutter down to a minimum. Keeping hundreds of emails in only your inbox causes you to quickly use up the storage space you are allowed. Trust me, that storage runs out fast!

The "Golden Rule" of email management is to only keep what is currently active in your inbox. Most of the time, that's no more than 5-10 emails because, again, we are only human around here. So the email from your Aunt Betty that's been sitting in your inbox for over a year? You can probably send it to the trash. Still want to hold on to it? Create a folder.

Not sure how to create a folder? Just follow these three simple steps!

Step 1.

Open the email and find the toolbar at the top. Click on the "Move To" button.

 

Step 2.

Type in the name you would like to folder to have. It should be short and accurately describe the content of the emails you plan to place in the folder (also called a label). For example, I have a Giveaways folder, a Passionfruit Ads folder and a Blog Hops tab, just to name a few. The titles are short, but accurately describe all of the content within them.

Once you've typed in the name of your new folder, click below where it says "(create new)".

 

Step 3.

You would think that after clicking on the "(create new)" button, you'd be done, right? Wrong. Google has added in another screen for you just to complicate your life. But not really.

Often times once you've created your new label you're good to go. Google gives you the option to "Nest" it under another folder, though. This is a great option if you have sort of a catch-all folder that you put things into, but want some division in that. For example, if you want to create a folder that's called "Projects" but you are working on multiple projects at once, you may want to "Nest" a new label under the projects folder. The choice is yours.

If you don't need your email to be that complicated, simply click on the "Create" button and you're good to go!



Folders are awesome. They store your emails based on the labels you create and keep them from eating away at all of the storage space you have available. Use them! Create labels and actually use them! It will help you to be more organized and keep your email running longer. I promise.

Now that you've set up your folders, how the heck do you find them!? Google likes to be tricky sometimes so they sort of hide things away. But they're not really hidden. You just have to know what to do. So if you've just successfully made 72 new folders for the hundreds of emails you had sitting around in your inbox, just keep reading to locate your disappearing labels!

Look at your email. You have this lovely sidebar on the left hand side of the screen that says things like "Inbox", and "Important" and "Sent Mail". These are all great things to have, but none of them are the labels you just worked so hard to create. Your sidebar navigation currently looks something like this:

Take your mouse and hover over the sidebar. It's like magic, I swear! Your sidebar should now look something like this:

Keeping up with managing your email isn't that difficult. Honestly I should be a lot better about it than I am. It only takes about 3 minutes to move all those emails to the folders they belong in and it ends up saving you a lot of time later when you're trying to find that one email that your co-worker sent three weeks ago that you need to act on about two days ago. It's worth it to take the time to make it happen. Why? Because in the end your inbox looks so much better and you aren't left feeling so overwhelmed! Just take a look at the difference it made in my email!

End the Homework Struggle

I don't know about you, but we have a tendency to struggle with homework in our home. Honestly, I kind of feel like a bad mom sometimes because it's not like I have 2 or 3 more kids to supervise during those after school hours. I only have Kaley. And we still have difficulties.

Kaley has ADHD. She is medicated. That's a struggle in and of itself which you can read about HERE. But due to her ADHD, homework is such a hassle most days.

I know, I know, there isn't hardly a child alive who loves doing their homework. But, at 7 years old, most of them are willing to sit down and just get it over with. Mine? Not so much. By the time we get home at 3:30, she's done for the day. Her medicine is wearing off, her attention span is practically zero and the ability to focus flew out the window about an hour ago. That's just the way it is.

So how do we make it through? How is it she still has A's in all but one class (forgive the child for her B in math- she's just not very good at it...)? Because over the past two and a half years that she has had homework I've found some things that really work with her ADHD. And I've decided that I won't be selfish with them anymore and I will share them all with you because I know ADHD is something many children struggle with.

1. Do NOT let yourself become frustrated.

This is one that I have had a difficult time with, to be honest. It has taken me a very long time to learn that my frustration has an adverse affect on Kaley's productivity level. When I become frustrated, she knows it and she pays more attention to that than she does to what she is supposed to be doing. Many of us parents think that raising our voices, expressing our irritation is letting our children know what they should be doing. It's not. It's just taking what little focus they have even further away from their homework. Not conducive to completing the assignments.

 

2. Do NOT let your child become frustrated.

If they've been sitting at the table, staring at "3+7=" for 20 minutes and can't seem to figure it out, have them move on to the next problem. Or, better yet, give them a 5 minute break to get some energy out. Odds are they are staring at the problem because they are frustrated by a question they probably answered 10 minutes ago that they aren't sure of and just need a little help to refocus on what is in front of them. So take a few minutes to have a conversation with them or let them play with something they enjoy or give them a few apple slices or a glass of milk. Just find something to take their mind off their frustration for a couple of minutes so they can get back to it with their mind cleared.

 

3. Pay attention to them.

Even if they seem like they are completely focused on the page in front of them, take 5 minutes out of your day to sit down with them and watch them do their homework page. Honestly, Kaley gets so much more done when she's supervised than when she isn't. I know it's a struggle sometimes to take a few minutes, trust me. Our lives are crazy. But just taking that time will let them know that you're paying attention. And then when the time is up, their motivation to get done is still there because they know you were paying attention so they're pretty sure that you still are paying attention. It makes a huge difference, I promise.

 

4. Let them work it out the way they need to.

This stuff isn't easy for most kids. That's why they have homework. They're reinforcing what they learned in school that day to help solidify it in their minds. So if they need to use a number line to finish their addition facts, let them use a number line. If they have to read every word of their book out loud, let them read out loud. Let them figure out what works best for them. They know their learning style better than anyone else could hope to know. So if you give them the opportunity to do it their way, they are more likely to not fight you on the whole idea of homework. And this works even on days they are positive the sky is purple.

 

5. Always check over their work.

ADHD kids have minds that run a mile a minute. There is just no slowing it down. And this can lead to carelessness and mistakes when it comes to things they should be taking their time on. If they've just finished a math sheet with 30 problems in less than 2 minutes, check their work. You'll likely find something they missed or that they answered incorrectly. If they read a 10 or 15 page story in 5 minutes, ask them questions about it. Ask them to identify characters, tell you about the plot, identify how it ended. Chances are they'll have to go back and look through it to tell you because they just read the words without taking the time to comprehend what they read.