laugh

When your husband deploys it is extremely easy to forget to laugh. Tonight, a wonderful friend of mine had me laughing so hard that tears were pouring out of my eyes. I can't remember the last time that I spent an hour just laughing at the silly things in life. My life reminder of the day is this: LAUGH! Find anything on this planet that will crack you up and then go at it. We all need to remember it's good to giggle. It rejuvenates the soul. :)

My hands are wrinkly. It seems no matter how much lotion I put on them, or how gentle of a soap I use...they are still wrinkly. And getting more so with age.

I have stretch marks. I mean, I HAVE stretch marks. These stretch marks are so vivid, and so present that my belly literally looks like a road map, or like tiger claws going down my entire torso...these are the gifts from my four beautiful children. I lotioned and lotioned when I was pregnant, and they still came. They are only some of my permanent scars from childbearing.

I hate shaving my legs, but I love having shaved legs. For me, personally, it's the whole process of having to shave. It's an inconvenience that I am expected to keep my hairs from existing on my legs. I also hate getting waxed. Who seriously wakes up in the morning and goes, "YES! I get to get waxed today!"? If a person exists that is like that, please introduce her to me...

I have "back fat." And I can't blame it on the bra. It's there even when I'm naked. It's my current theory that it's part of the whole triplet pregnancy, sagging skin stuff, but I'm not exactly sure. No matter how many crunches, squats, or exercises I do...the skin still hangs.

My stomach hates me. That statement might seem a little dramatic, but I am completely convinced that it wants to kill me. I can hardly put anything in to it without it causing me vast amounts of pain. Or maybe, it's trying to save my life, by forbidding me from eating anything with fat, grease, or dairy. Maybe it's trying to literally prevent me from killing myself with junk food. Maybe my stomach, is trying to make me lose weight.

I LOVE crunchy food. I could easily sit down and eat an entire bag of Doritos with no problem. It's not so much the taste, but the crunch that I enjoy. Toast gives me equal amounts of pleasure. And no matter how many Weight Watchers meetings, or Jenny Craig consultant conversations occur...I will NEVER buy in to the notion that eating celery sticks, or carrot sticks, or popcorn can satisfy my need for that crunch. They simply do not fit the bill. However, due to the graciousness of my angry stomach, I no longer get to enjoy those chips.

Working out makes me tired. It makes me so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open when I'm finished. It always makes me laugh to read that working out gives you energy. I promise you, every single time, I am ready for a nap when I've finished working out. It does, however, make my days much more productive. It makes my mind feel sharper and more alert. But so does eating nothing but boiled chicken and raw vegetables (this seriously has worked wonders on my brain clarity).

I am lazy to a fault. It's strange how a person can be lazy, and bored at the same time. In theory, the notion of boredom should push someone beyond their laziness and in to the act of productivity. This doesn't usually happen with me. I find myself desiring less and less stuff to do, especially as more and more things need to happen.

I love my husband being in the military. I love hearing him put his dog tags around his neck. I love watching him lace up his boots. I love hearing him attach his patches to his ACU top. I love that it keeps him physically fit. I love that it's a stable, reliable job with benefits. I wish it didn't take him away from me as much as it does...but...as I get older, I am more able to recognize that there's beauty in the distance, and that the times apart really do make our relationship stronger, and our love deeper.

Every night before I go to sleep, I lay in bed and imagine that my husband is holding me. It happens every night whether I am intentionally thinking of him or not. And every single night, my heart aches, and my body physically longs to feel his presence next to me. I never knew what it meant to physically long for someone. It was always an abstract thought in my mind. I now know what it feels like. I can tell you that it sucks.

I am so sick of diets. I think it would be absolutely wonderful if we could banish all fast food restaurants and junk food. I feel this way mostly because I know that those foods make my body feel terrible, but the temptation of them is awful. Tonight I sat in my car eating a home made salad, while my daughter ate chicken nuggets and french fries (her request on our special mom and daughter night). It took quite a bit of strength to not lean over and steal a fry...

I love cooking. I love the smell of the food that my mind creates. I never use recipes. I'm just not really into them. I think it is much more fun to let my mouth create and blend spices and sauces and flavors and textures, and then see if it ended up being something good in the end. I love that my husband adores the food that I make. I love that he misses it when he's away. I love the excitement in my children's voices when they know I am cooking them dinner. They don't always eat what's prepared, but they feel so happy that I've cooked them something.

I used to think I would be something completely different than who I am. I used to believe that the value in life was in status symbols: degree, husband, house, job, car, etc etc. I now believe that almost all of those things are literally meaningless. I could care less if someone thinks I'm wise, or pretty, or rich, or classy. My life's purpose is not to fulfill someone else's opinion of who I should be. Nor is it to fill some status quo of who I think I should be. Truthfully, my heart's desire is just to be a lover. I want to love with a depth and a passion that the world hasn't seen in ages. I want to love Christ, love my husband, my children, my neighbors, my family, my peers, fellow citizens, and fellow humans deeply. I want to love until my heart gives out. And it doesn't necessarily matter to me if anyone credits me for this. I want to do it, not so that people will think greatly of me, but simply because it's needed. People need to feel love without judgment. There's so little of that nowadays...

and so it goes...

I am sitting here in my grandfather's chair listening to my husband put the kids to bed. He is leaving to go back to Iraq. Tonight is an emotional night. These moments have been filled with laughter, and also with tears. Tonight the children will lay down to sleep with laughs and smiles and happy thoughts, and tomorrow they will wake up and he will be gone again. We have prepared them. They know that he will be gone in the morning....they know he's in the military and that he leaves to protect people... But I always wonder if they will ever feel abandoned. I have often wondered if children feel abandoned because of the things the parent left behind says, or if they feel abandoned because of the actions the parents leaving makes, of if they feel abandoned simply because the parent isn't there. Both my husband and I work very hard at assuring the children of his love. In our home, we daily pray for him, we look at pictures, watch videos, talk on the webcam, and talk about happy times with daddy. Every night I tell them how much he loves them and can't wait to be with them again. My husband works extremely hard to show them how much they mean to him. He is in no way, an absentee father. When he is home with us, he is engaged, involved, and a complete participant in every way. How will all of these deployments affect my children in the long run? My husband and I are adults...we have CHOSEN this life. Our children just sort of have had it pushed on them. Will they grow up having dysfunctional ideas about love and relationships? Will they seek out emotionally unavailable men because of some need to "replace" their father? Is it quantity of time that matters, or quality?
And so now the time has come. Our oldest child is having her story read to her and then off she will go to bed. My husband and I will do what we always do on the eve of a separation...watch the Notebook (his idea), snuggle in bed and then cry and comfort each other until we fall asleep. I will savor each second of hearing his heartbeat. I will revel in every breath and the warmth that comes off of him next to me. I will sleep peacefully, and in full comfort with his gentleness and love. And in the morning, I will rise and I will take him to the airport and I will let go of him when it's time for him to walk away. I swear to you this...only with God as my strength am I able to get in the car and come home. Only with God holding my arms and my legs am I able to let go of him and then walk away. Only through Christ will I be able to comfort my children when they cry in the morning. And only through my Lord and Savior will I have a peace that surpasses all understanding, in the midst of my heartache and sadness. It is out of selfishness that I cry. Because I would give anything to have him stay here. But it is out of obedience that he goes. And in his sense of duty, I also find mine. I will obey my God and king, by obeying my husband, and caring for our children, and carrying on. All praise and glory to Christ my king. May the days of separation go by quickly.

disintegrating

In the last two weeks, I have been on the receiving end of several packages. My grandfather's stuff has arrived, slowly and gradually. First his chairs, his coffee cup, his rugs... And now, his stuff is mine. It's weird how these transitions occur. One minute these pieces of material items belonged to someone I held so dear in my heart...and now they sit in my living room, in my kitchen, in my cupboard. His coffee cup is faded and broken on the handle. His chairs smell like him. And I am saddened. I am heartbroken that he isn't here.