Raising the Future...

I love my children more than anything else on this Earth.

But I am not just raising children...I am not just raising a daughter and a son...and I am not here to be their friend (yet...the time will come later for that)...

I am raising the future of America, a wife/mother, a husband/father and coworkers/friends/neighbors on which you can depend.  

I am raising a daughter with the traits, qualities and morals that I would allow to date my baby boy and a son with the respect, dignity and reliability that I would permit to date my sweet daughter.

I am raising young people that you will welcome into your home when they come calling on your son/daughter, productive members of society with a strong moral compass, hard core work ethic as well as a heart full of compassion, empathy and respect.

What does that look like?

Well, to you (thankfully) it looks like cute, well-mannered children that are confident speaking to adults and babies alike, little ones that are well-groomed, well-mannered, cheerful, generous, loving, intelligent, and obedient.

I like that THAT is what you see. That means my work is paying off.

But on those days when they want to push the boundaries, make bad decisions, and test the waters of rebellion, it looks like a battle of wills with a little girl that just KNOWS she is right and can shoot daggers with those eyes. It looks like a little man that thinks tears or anger will solve his problems and that Mamma will cave. It looks like yelling and spankings and Shor tempers and GO STAND IN THE CORNER!

It looks like a mother, convinced she is doing it all wrong, crying in the shower.

But then they get ready for bed...we give tight hugs that speak volumes without a single word...we kiss pink noses and tear-stained cheeks...and they rest well knowing that nothing has really changed. Mamma still loves them a million times around the moon and back. The rules are still the rules, the expectations are still the same.

Consistency.

Responsiblity.

Structure.

And you know what? They wake up in the morning with a smile, a hug, and a kiss...and we do it all over again. Because what I teach them today will help them tomorrow.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

Guilty When He's Gone...

I know it's normal. Hell, pretty much anything can be described as 'normal' in the face of military life. Everything about our lives and our reactions to it are 'normal' because there is really no such thing as 'normal' in a life that is so incredibly ABnormal. So instead of everything being unusual, it's just a 'normal' aspect of military life. Comical if you think about it too much...or even just a little.

So here's a good one.

I feel guilty when he is gone.

Yes, I know how weird that sounds. I've said it before, will probably say it again but it remains that I don't love him because I need him. I need him because I love him. There is a HUGE difference. Thus, I feel guilty in the face of a whole slew of situations when he is gone. When we celebrate achievements (big or small), attend parties/social functions, enjoy ourselves at a school event or even just have a little too much fun doing nothing on a boring Saturday (i.e. in our jammies half the day while we play with the puppies and make crafts). Then I stop to think about how much he would enjoy this...whatever 'this' is at the time...and I feel bad for having fun without him.

You see, my hubby is a pain-in-the-ass antisocial dude. I love him to pieces and he has gotten a LOT better in the 10 years that we have been together...A LOT. I mean, he'll actually talk to people now...TALK...to men and women and even kids.

When we met, we were still of the "Let's go to a bar after dinner." age...and when we would go out in groups, we'd go to this bar or that bar or whatever after dinner. He'd stand silently with his back to the wall, holding a drink (that he never drank) with his hat pulled low and simply watch. He saw everything because though he appeared to have zero interest in what was going on around him, he was always aware and always watching. He would leave his 'post' for only three reasons...if someone was being inappropriate to any of the ladies in our group, he'd shoo them off...if I pushed the issue of joining me on the dance floor for a slow dance...and to leave. Let me tell you, he was SO social it hurt. LOL.  But I've never felt anything but safe and protected with him. And it is a blessedly comforting feeling even (and sometimes especially) for someone as fiercely independent as myself. I would use a lot of words to describe him...both then and now...but social isn't one of them.  However, he finds the most pure and simple joy in seeing the kids and I enjoy ourselves. He may not get the same enjoyment out of whatever it is as we do...but if we are happy, he is thrilled (in a hat-pulled-low, non-smiling sort of way).

How many people do you know that truly find their joy in yours?

And so, when we have fun while he is gone, it makes me feel a bit guilty. He would love this or that or whatever...not because he loves crafts or dress up or spending allowances at the $1 Spot at Target...but because he loves us and finds the purest joy in our happiness.