You are only as happy as your unhappiest child

You know how it sucks when you look forward to something for months and months, then the night comes and it is really great but you do something stupid at the end that screws a little part of it up, but that small something ruins the whole night for you and you are so mad at yourself? Well that happened to my Lily tonight and I'm just laying awake hurting for her. Heart outside of my body...indeed.

**********

Last night was Lily's 1st grade program.  She has been talking about since January.  April 19, mom, make sure it is on the calendar, make sure you can get home from work on time, make sure my camera has batteries, make sure and get a video, when can we decide what I'm going to wear, can we practice my line, here is where I will be standing, here is how the risers are arranged.  She's talked about every single detail of how the night would go.  I even know where to find her in line, and how far in her own speaking part would be.  Her siblings have been singing the songs for weeks.  

She was a little disappointed that our nanny had a test in class that night and wouldn't be able to make it.  I invited my brother and his girlfriend, but didn't tell her they were coming (because I hadn't heard for sure that they were and I didn't want her to be disappointed if they couldn't make it).  

I left work at 4, got home around 5, and we went upstairs to do homework.  She was so giddy and excited that she couldn't concentrate on learning her spelling words.  I found myself being shorter with her than I wanted to be, but something that could have taken 15 minutes took 45, and the rest of the family was waiting downstairs for us to eat.  She didn't feel like learning spelling words, and I wanted her to have a better attitude about it rather than saying, I'll never learn that word with a sourpuss face.  She did learn the three she was having a hard time with: instead, said, and thought.  (Side note: I just spelled thought wrong the first go round of typing it. :)  )  Anyway, she finally finished and went in the bathroom for me to do her hair (which was in curlers) but I told her we needed to eat, and we'd have to do hair after.  

We ate, she dawdled.  I was annoyed.  When she was the last person finished at the table (typical), and was pittering around watching what Bryson and Addie were up to, I told her she needed to hurry, we needed to get upstairs to get dressed and do hair.  She obliged but we quickly realized that the dress and sweater we laid out (last night so it would be easy peasy no decision making tonight) was size 2T, it was Addie's - and her pink sweater was nowhere in sight.  We looked and looked and finally she said she could chose a different dress (the one laid out was super summery and it was raining and 50 degrees outside) because we really only had one sweater that could match.  After much back and forth, she finally chose the dress that she wore in our family pics, but she was mad. (Note to self: must get Lily more sweaters less hoodies, why oh why do I not have a white or black sweater for that girl?!)

Her hair didn't come out great, but at this point we were kind of rushed, and I was disappointed (with myself mostly) that the dress thing took so long, when I did everything I could to make sure THAT EXACT THING WOULDN'T HAPPEN.  Overdramatic? Maybe but I was certainly feeling like no matter what I do, how much I plan ahead, it is never enough to make life run smoothly.  Ha, life run smoothly...good one, Jenny.  

Anyway, I packed up a purse full of crap to keep Bryson busy during the program while the rest of the family honked at me from the car (I joke about the honking, but that's how frantic I was feeling while loading up the bag o tricks).  As I got in the car and thought about the teenage years.  Man, they are going to be hard.  I said so to Lawrence who obviously has no knowledge of the things teenage girls care about because he rolled his eyes and said I shouldn't rush us ahead.  I thought about how much harder it will be when it's not just a missing matching sweater, but it's my sister took my sweater, it's caring about fashion, what's in style, and worrying about body shape, and acne, and hair, and, and, and....deep breaths, not a great start, but okay, we are in the car now, let's enjoy the show.  I wasn't pleased with how I'd handled the last 2 hrs of the evening, let's make the next two better.  

Matt and Heather did come, and the kids were all thrilled to see them, jumping around all crazy, like they always do.  Then it was time to get Lily to her class room and the show started.  It was wonderful, and cute, and sweet.  Lily did a good job.  She got to say the line "when I grow up I want to be an acrobat".  Which she does.  I got it all on video.  So did Addie on her camera.  Bryson was enthralled and behaved beautifully on Lawrence's lap.  He clapped and loved it when he could point out his "Loly".  All was awesome. 

After the show the kids were all over Matt and Heather again, especially Lily, and there was some talk of them coming over for a bit.  It was already 8pm, and ultimately, I didn't think it was a great idea.  They haven't seen Heather forever, and seriously the kids go CRAZY around Matt.  He's like the catnip to their cat.  He says he doesn't, but sometimes I wonder how he can think my kids are anything but monsters, they act so different and more wild around him than anyone else.  They cannot contain their excitement to be in his presence.  I told M&H that it probably wasn't the best for getting everyone to bed if they came, so we decided they would come to Lily's baseball game on Saturday and we would get together after that.

Lawrence told Lily to say goodbye to Heather and Matt and thank them for coming.  But instead she was jumping all over them, pulling on Matt's coat, acting terribly obnoxious.  Lawrence asked her what she should say to her uncle for coming, and she said nothing, then stuck her tongue out at them.  Grrr.  Lawr told her to get in the car, and I apologized, and we left.  On the way home we talked to Lily about how rude that was.  Doesn't she want Matt and Heather to come to her things?  Why would she treat someone she loves like that?  Lawr said maybe they shouldn't come to her baseball game, or even worse, maybe they wouldn't want to.  Not if she was going to treat them like that.  We were disappointed, but we didn't yell or scream at her.  We just shook our heads and got about the business of who would do what when we got home to get them all to bed before 9pm.  

No one talked the whole ride home.  Buzz kill.

After getting Bryson and Addie to bed, I went to Lily's bed.  She was reading a note from our nanny that was cut in the shape of a heart.  It said something about how sad she was to have missed the show and how she couldn't wait to hear all about the wonderful night and she knew she did awesome and she loved her.  Really sweet.  Lily hugged that little piece of cardboard all night long like it was a soft teddy bear, obviously a source of comfort for her.  

Lily was so destroyed.  She was mad at her self for how she treated Matt and Heather.  I listened to her talk for quite a while.  I told her it is okay to make mistakes, and tomorrow is a new day.  That made it worse.  She said tomorrow is not the day of her program.  She wanted to rewind today!  I asked her if we could think of some good things from the night and remember those before we go to sleep, but she said she couldn't remember anything good.  All she could think of was acting like that to Matt.  She said she was feeling really excited, but she never meant to be rude to him.  She kept asking herself why she did that.  Why would she ruin her own night.  She told me she'd looked forward to this night for so long, and now it was over and it was awful.  She was weeping and sobbing.  I told her to just let it out.  

It was one of the few times that her tears over something small made me cry too.  I could feel and taste her pain.  I wondered if we shouldn't have said something to her in the car about the way she acted toward Matt, I was feeling pretty guilty.  Were we too hard on her?  Did we make her too hard on her self?  Parenting isn't easy, and the truth is you do not allow your child to be rude to someone else without calling them out on it.  That's part of the job.  Lawrence suggested that she could call Matt, and she did, and whatever he said to her made her feel quite a bit better. She mostly cried and he mostly talked.  And at the end of the call she was crying less and I could see she was getting to a point of peace about it.  It just wasn't the feeling of elation and pride that I would have wanted her to have at the end of a night that she has been looking forward to for so long.  

I knew exactly what she meant and how she felt.

We talked about how she could show the video to our nanny after school today, and she could show her all the songs, teach her sister the movements.  She liked that.  Then we talked about her friend, who's baby brother Ethan is in the hospital right now for a virus.  I said we needed to pray for him to get better and for his mommy to be okay.  She said we should pray right now, so we did.  Then we talked about how our problems aren't the worst ones to have, and how we will be okay.  When I left her room, I thanked her for asking that we pray for Ethan right now, I told her sometimes we say we will pray and we forget, it's always better to pray right now.  I told her that I am so glad she has the heart she does.  She makes me proud.      

I laid in bed and hurt for her, rewinding and fast forwarding to things i could have done differently to protect her from the pain and anger she was feeling.  

I thought about how I wished she could just get over a mistake, a split second decision to not act in a kind way.  I wished I could tell her to get out of her own head, and know that everyone else understood, and no one was mad.  Then I thought about how that is not a quality I model for her.  At all.  

Today, I winced thinking about a conversation I had with a friend who gave me some very good, very constructive, very hard to hear advice, four years ago.  Four years later, I took the advice, I'm grateful for the advice, but I still am mad at myself for needing the advice in the first place.  If I'm honest, I don't think I have forgiven myself for that.  And in the grand scheme of things, it is a little thing, really.  

My good friend's mom posted the quote, "you are only as happy as your unhappiest child" on my facebook today.  I read it a few times, letting it sink in.  Man, we are just getting started.  This is going to be hard.  I want to get better about forgiving myself, and letting their little stuff slide too.  

As a mother and a woman, I am so self critical of myself.  It is so much easier to see what I'm not doing than what I am.  A great day, with the best planning, and wonderful intentions, can send me into a panic when the sweater I laid out says 2t rather than 6 on the tag.  I let the small "mistakes" cast a shadow over the successes.  I beat myself up.  I don't want to, but I do.  I'm not sure if I have any tools to stop.  I sure see the goodness in everyone else.  I celebrate everyone else, I use kind words, I let things slide, I tell them they are doing a really good job.  I mean it.  

Is that the message I want to send on to my daughters?  You should focus on your imperfections, rather than your amazingly wonderful qualities?  The answer to that question obviously is of course not.  

But when I tear myself down, criticize my body or my clothes, talk of the state of my house or my cars in disgust, list all of the things left to do and never the things done, say harsh words about the mistakes I make, expect perfection...I'm teaching her to treat herself that way.  

And that needs to change.  

I can't protect her from everything, and maybe this small lesson needed to be learned so that she can remember how important it is to treat people, especially those you love, with respect and kindness.  I hope that is true.  

The part that has my heart really aching is that she can't forgive herself yet.  And I know how bad that feels.  And she doesn't deserve to feel like that.  

No one does.  

Coulda, shoulda, woulda.  Sigh.  Forget it.  Let's be kind to ourselves today and let's remember the impact that will have on our sweet children.  Then let's try to do it again tomorrow.  And the next day.  Until self kindness is a habit that we pass down to them.  

What is one thing you can do today that will remind you of what you have done right, that screams to you, YOU ARE ENOUGH! Today, how can you let go of something you have done wrong?  How can you model that for your children?    

My 2012 motto is Do Not Let Perfect Be the Enemy of Good.  I can say it all I want, but until I start acting like good is good, I'm teaching the wrong things through my actions and my words don't matter one bit.  

A family that loves me

My mom made this for me to celebrate remember another year of blessings and accompliments:

Thanks Mom!


With this beautiful little note: 

Jenny, though I hope your other gifts reach you today, I'm sending this one by e-mail, a collage of your life in the past year. I marvel at your resiliency, knowing all you were going through that you packed so much into your life and the lives of your family.I can never tell you -- though since you are the mother of your own daughters -- how much I love you and how very much you've added to my life, since the moment you were born 35 years ago through the years to today.You are such a very special person, not only to me but to many, many, many others. You make a difference. We are so lucky to have  you, and I consider you the shining achievement of my life.I love you so much.Happy birthday,Your proud mother

AND


I also got a card so sweet that I couldn't really read it in front of them, from my brother, and his girlfriend, Heather.  I came upstairs and behind my closed door, I read and I cried.  It was too kind.  Matt just got back from Iraq in September.  I've always had a great relationship with him, but I feel extremely close to him after his year away and the time we've spent reconnecting since he returned.  This was the first card I've ever gotten from him that wasn't along the lines of "thanks for all the years of torture growing up!".  :)  


It said: 

She's the first to help someon,
to see a need and lend a hand,
to sense a pain and understand.
That's just the way my sister is. 

She's always busy, doing more
than other people can get done,
and yet she finds the time for fun.
That's just the way my sister is. 

She has so many qualities
that others recognize as rare,
but she's completely unaware.
That's just the way my sister is.
That's why I love her. 

There have been some times in my life
when I don't know how I would have
made it through if it hadn't been for you.
You support and help,
your confidence in me ~
all thees have meant more than I can tell you. 

I'll always be thankful for all
the wonderful things you are~
and especially for the wonderful fact
that you're my sister!
Happy Birthday.

You know, I get pretty sentimental when it comes to my mom and Matt.  And it's hard to put into words what my little family unit means to me.  I hope neither of them mind me sharing their sweet sentiments here.  I could read over and over the kind words they shared with me today, and I don't want them lost at the bottom of a pile of papers or lost in email clutter land, but displayed proudly for me to reread and remember the love that I am surrounded with, that I have always been surrounded with.  I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have to have the mama and brother I do.  

Wordless Wednesday - Christmas Card 1984

Yeah, and you thought I was exaggerating about the glasses?

Um, no.

The Photo That Went In My Mom's Christmas Card
circa November 1984
Jenny 8 years, Matt 7 months

Guest Blogger Melinda: The Send Off

**Melinda is a friend I've had since the 5th grade, she lives in Idaho and works as a High School teacher, where she waits for her deployed husband to come home , they have a 4 month old son, Che. Melinda keeps a private blog, and I asked her to post here regarding her recent goodbye to her husband. I've found it difficult to put into words the feelings I have about my own brother's deployment. Melinda's husband is in Mississippi with Matt and they will head to Iraq together. Because I love her and because of this, I feel extremely close to her right now. She is a gifted writer and I was touched by her words about their send off.**

I waited a week before trying to write this. It's like writing what I saw at a funeral, which you might rightfully question as not a good idea. But it's like documenting my hours of labor. Something important that I went through. That was hard. That I might have to go through again, so it's a good idea to process it for future reference.

Last night, as Juan and I chatted about his three days of leave in November (right before he officially flies overseas), we quickly came to the mutual conclusion that it was a bad idea for me to try and spend his leave with him. Several well-intentioned civilian acquaintances have mentioned that I could go down and see him if I chose, and I feel like a bad wife for saying, emphatically, NO. And Juan agrees. Here's why:

1. Military bastards change their dates all the time. If I had been a blogger at the time I was planning my wedding, I would have told you all about that. The effort and expense of a possible date change would be very bad on my blood pressure.

2. It's expensive, and we're trying to save money. A current dream is to use our accumulated vacation fund to spend an entire summer in Mexico when Che is three. I'd blow hundreds of that money for a few nights down in Mississippi. Not a good exchange.

3. It's not fun flying as a single parent with an infant. Five hours. I don't know this from personal experience, and I have no desire to find out.

4. Juan needs time to bond with his new guys. He went from Delta Company to Alpha Company just before the deployment, which cut off his entire military social support system. He needs a chance to make non-Iraq memories with the people who he trusts with his life. I get that. Go watch a football game together, drink some shots. Pack six guys in a hotel room. All that important stuff.

5. And the big one: saying goodbye again would really, really suck.

One week ago, I came home from a loooong day, with puffy eyes and a bone-tired body. Last Monday night, yes, my last night with my husband for a year long deployment, was spent at parent-teacher conferences. I thought about taking the day off, but in the past, I weirdly have had the luck of getting the stomach flu or food poisoning on that very day, and frankly, I think the parents are getting a little suspicious. So I sucked it up, raced home. Got there five minutes after my mom did. She unpacked, set up on the couch, and commenced the much-needed nurturing.

Juan and I played 'pack the duffel bag' and I don't mean a fun bedroom game. Elsewhere, I suspected, in hundreds of Idahoan National Guard homes, delicious nooky was taking place, but not here. We were finding goggles, batteries, headlamps, mouth wash. Asleep by 11:00.

Awake at 2:30.

On base, I dropped off my soldier and crawled into the back of the Tahoe with my sleeping bag, catching a cat nap for about an hour . . . a nap punctuated by slamming doors of late soldiers and the mass chanting of hundreds of voice shouting, "Go Desert Storm!" No, not that. "Go, Desert Wind!" Maybe. "Go, Desert Kitty Cat!" Who knows. They were like a huge football team before a game.

So I slept. Then drove to the hangar and hung out with him for an hour and an half or so. There were sweet old ladies and motorcycle gang veterans there serving us breakfast burritos, stale cookies, and watery coffee. God bless them! Every time I think that they're doing something corny, I remind myself that they could be cozy in bed. They think that it's more important for us to not feel alone right now, for us to feel loved. What must Vietnam have been like for them to feel so determined to love on us right now? I can't even imagine?

So in a room of high strung children playing in the dead middle of the night, clutching their daddy dolls, hugging their daddies' knees, it started to slowly hurt. I felt that nervous before-a-race feeling from high school. I went pee three times. We chatted about nothing at all. Juan told me the gossip on everybody new - those that I'd likely never see again.

Some politicians wandered in, looking so incredibly polished, pressed, and out of place. No media was there, not that I saw. Must have been, though, for the mayor to show, right? I sound cynical, but Juan's last deployment taught us a thing or two about politicians and their lust for photo ops with troops. Take away a camera and they 'stand you up like a fat girl on prom night' as my husband put it once or twice.

Then they called for the troops to gather in 15 minutes.
15 minutes passed very quickly. Juan kissed me and said goodbye. Turned away happily to his guys. Probably fake-happy -- you do what you can to get through it, I've found. I walked out into the night and suddenly I felt sick, literally like I was going to vomit, which was handy since I was right next to a row of port-a-potties. And I started bawling. Finally, it was just me and the darkness and I could really let it go. I didn't have to be strong, organized, disciplined, supportive. I could just cry. So I did.

Somehow I hadn't thought I wanted to come to this whole goodbye thing. I thought I'd kiss him goodbye at our doorstep, on our terms, and he'd drive to an armory and they'd bus him to base. No count-down. No politicians. No other families in the same predicament as me.

This was the classic band-aid dilemma. Rip it off quickly? Tear it slowly, little hair by little hair?

That thing I'd dreaded so long had come.

And then, as I strode away, I heard a song: sunk deep in my National Guard hoodie three sizes too big with a bleach stain on the sleeve, my phone rang with Joan Sebastian. Juan.

"I didn't mean to send you away," he said apologetically. "I thought we were supposed to say goodbye right then and line up. I guess you are allowed to come walk us out to the plane and all that."

Put the band-aid back on and try to rip it off again. Slower this time. I returned to the too-bright hangar with puffy eyes. His were wet, too, though. Rare.

I just couldn't stop touching him as we walked out into the darkness of the runway. My fingers on his hand, on his face, wanting to press my face against his, just hungry. I know what it's like to say goodbye for a long time.... just not quite like this. Not when I need him so much, love him so much. Share so much with him, have so much to lose.

And then, one final kiss, and he melts into a crowd of uniforms climbing the stairs up to the plane. A text message. He's sitting over the wing. He can see my phone's light in the crowd. He waves his pen-lamp, and I feel a jolt of love. Such a small thing. The last sight of him.

We stand there in the freezing cold -- I wore flip-flops, dummy that I am -- and listened to wives sniffle and, worst of all, a steady wail from some of the children old enough to know what they were getting into.

Next to me, a very young woman with a baby 21 days old. Her parents or her in-laws were late to the send off; they left their house at 2:30 and got there late, got lost on base, arrived to see a plane with darkened windows and a crowd full of sad faces.

We each felt our own private grief, each yearning for a little more time with one particular man. Like a crowd funeral. With hundreds of different caskets. So private, and yet so public. A feeling I'll likely never be able to share with very many people that I know.

To my right, the young mom whimpered for an hour straight, devastated.

To my left, a pack of Army moms laughing and telling inappropriate jokes and gossiping about who'd been kicked out for the DUI and planning a Biggest Loser party that night.

They made me happy, just standing next to them. Lifted my heart. It was a defining moment.

Yeah, it was sad, sad as hell, something I sure don't want to spend hundreds flying down to Mississippi to repeat.

But I have a choice, don't I? I don't have a pack of Army wives just yet -- again, he's in a totally different company than he was just a month ago. Just when I was getting to know people, build my support system.

But I cannot be that young wife with the baby at my feet, stuffing my hand into my mouth and sucking at it in desperate sadness. Now can I?

I have to laugh. Find funny people. Distract myself from sadness. Stay safe and sane. Right?

In the cold we waited, like I was saying. What was the hold-up? The Governor's wife was determined to shake every soldier's hand. That's nice, honey. Why don't you buy us a Starbucks and let us go home? But that's what the higher ups do. They make speeches and send us to war and keep us waiting on a dark runway.

And then the sun started to come up. The plane started to taxi away from and then toward us, then speed up to zoom past. And just before it left the ground, when I was feeling so damned alone, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and it was a familiar face. In a uniform. That came just to see Juan, just to support me at that hard, hard time. His friend Joyner, whose wife has been through this before and who has been so helpful. He hugged me and watched the plane fly into the rising sun and disappear. He walked me back toward my car, past the port-a-potties, and said he hoped I had a good day, that he had to get to work. That if I needed anything . . . that he'd 'cut my grass' . . . that all I had to do was call.

In the Tahoe, I turned up the Van Morrison. Put on "Crazy Love", the one to which we'd walked down the aisle, and I swear I felt every note. And I realized I've never listened to that song before, not really. It really seemed to fit, the whole 'thousand miles' and 'when I come home'.

And I drove around aimlessly, like you do in college after a gut-kicking break-up. Fell asleep on a quiet street near downtown. Woke up and went to a meeting with a BSU professor. Then went to an afternoon conference on multiculturalism in the schools. Got stared at a lot. I'm sure I've looked shittier, but not in public, not in a professional capacity.

Met my mom for dinner at a psuedo-New-Mexican eatery (we were a tad disappointed). SO glad I didn't have to take Che along for all this. Had to change his poopy diaper on the floor of the bathroom because God forbid they have a changing table or a counter of any sort.

It felt good to have her. Motherhood feels like a wonderful new start for us. It felt wonderful to have someone to come home with that night. A full belly. Exhaustion.

A phone call in the middle of the night from an ex-student who wanted to talk. I can only hope he was drunk. Sheesh.

Little sleep and start all over again.

Now, a week later, (sorry for the novel), it's sinking in again, but in a different way. 390 days to go.

How will I get through missing him so much?

I will. Because I have to.

Yep, that's the thing. I have to. So I will.

Sad things sorry - and a nutshell.

Wow. Can't believe so many people read this blog. I'd never know it by the number of comments I get in a given week...

So, I guess I really upset a lot of you by posting that I had some sadness to write about. Sorry for that. I have to laugh a little thought because some of you who criticized me for leaving you hanging...don't let me into your lives at ALL. Good or bad! Hanging or full disclosure! It's okay to need to process sad things and it's okay to want to write about them. It's also okay to not be able to. Still, I didn't want to worry anyone. I guess I wanted to say that while I do have some sad things, I'm really doing okay. Just penning up some emotions that might better be let out.

I keep trying and I can't. I'm all blocked up when I try to write with any structure or coherence. It's hard to give the feelings any words. And then after making an statement about needing to write about sad things, and being jumped on, I really can't write. Maybe a nutshell will help, I don't know...

For those of you who don't know, my little brother has been deployed to Iraq and is in his last weeks of training in Mississippi before leaving the country for over a year. He is my only sibling and he is a very big deal to me. I want to write a lot about him and how I'm feeling (or the feelings that I'm not feeling, stuffing away, later to haunt me or make me cry at inopportune moments). I have friends who have husbands deployed with my little bro. And their sadness is so raw, I don't know what do with it all (future guest post by Melinda coming very soon). At the same time we said goodbye to Matt, Sabine also left. I have more to write about her goodbye, but I can't, not just yet. I got to wake up to see her face every day for almost a year, and I really miss seeing her so much. It's such a weird experience having someone be so close to your family, living with you, seeing the good, the bad, and the crazy, and then having them gone to be seen who-knows-when. I knew it would happen but it doesn't make me less sad. People think that because Julia is such a great AuPair, then I shouldn't miss Sabine. But I don't miss having a good AuPair, our Julia is an AMAZING AuPair, so I do have that. It's just that I miss my Bean-Bean. Just like being with one friend doesn't make you miss another friend less. I'm worried for my friend Jeanine and her mom, my heart aches for them and losing Jack a few weeks ago. And I haven't been able to talk in length with Jeanine to find out how she is doing and how they are coping. But I know the man that Jack was deserves a million posts plus one!

And then the really tragic news. On Friday, Julia's good friend was killed in a car accident. Her name was Sarah, and she was 23. She was from Julia's small hometown in Germany of 1000 people. She has been in the US for about 6 weeks, in South Carolina to study for a year. She is the oldest of 4 and her family and Julia's families are very very close to each other. Obviously the news of this, has been devastating to all of those who loved her. And even though I didn't know her, this loss for Julia and her family is weighing heavily on my heart. I want to be whatever love and support I can to my sweet girl in this time of mourning. And I pray for comfort over all the mother's in this situation. It's hard to know what to do when someone is filled with raw grief. I feel grateful that in the times that there are no words to say, Bryson's smiles seem to genuinely brighten Julia's days, even when she is feeling very down. Babies have that gift. It's hard to understand God's plan and trust him in a tragedy such as this, but we do know with certainty that she was welcomed into His loving arms. Even though it leaves a big hole for those that knew her, here on earth.

In addition to that, breast cancer is about to claim the life of my friend Julie (if it hasn't already and I just haven't gotten the news). We've all been waiting, holding our breath when we check the blog, and having mixed feelings about what we will see there. Yesterday they thought she was breathing her last breaths, but now we don't know more...

It's among some of this sadness that I do find perspective. But perspective doesn't make it less sad. If you pray, and feel so inclined, you can pray for Julie's husband, Brian; for all the people who loved Sarah, and for her little sisters and little brother, for her mom and dad; you can pray for my Julia's family, that while grieving for their friends, they can trust that their daughter will come home safely to them and that we will take good care of her; pray for the safety of my brother and that of Juan Garcia while in Iraq, pray for Jeanine, Colleen, Nycole, & Aristeo as they attempt to have peace about the void that losing Jack has left in their lives. And while your at, give a little thanks for all the good things He's doing in your life. Open you eyes and just look, you'll see it. I sure am.

So each of these things deserves more words and more time and more care. This certainly didn't feel very therapeutic. But I can't leave you all worried out there, now can I?

Winds of change

Things will be changing again today.

I'm tired, and overwhelmed, and excited, and scared, and nervous, and sad, and happy.

I'm even a little superstitious I think. On the day Sabine arrived, Lawrence lost his job. On the day Tamara started as our nanny before that, I broke my foot. Both knocked us off our feet for 3 months. Pun intended. Heh. I'm downright scared of getting a new person to care for our children! :)

Julia comes today, I pick her up tonight at midnight. Sabine will still be here until Tuesday. Five more days. It's bizarre that this year went so fast. And what a year it was.

We lost a job, and got a job, and had a baby, and made it through a pretty life changing year. Nothing earth-shattering, but hard and different and great for us, nonetheless. It's nothing that hundreds or thousands of people aren't going through right now. And we had this girl, this young woman, who arrived, and lived with us, and experienced it all with us. Typical American life? The ups and the downs. She knows us. She KNOWS our kids. She was an extension of us and our love, discipline, and even frustrations with them. And at times, with each other. She was easy and kind and respectful. And she loved us. And we loved her. Love. Past and Present.
And future.

And now things will change.

A new girl, a young woman, is coming today. And she is going to experience the ups and downs of this year with us. We don't even know what they are yet. And I'm sure we will love her and she will love us. She will come to know us and vice versa. And it will be totally different, and totally great, and another chapter in our life.

With this change comes uneasiness for me. I'm happy about it, I'm sad about it. The beginning of one thing stems from the end of another thing.

And on top of it all I've got a lot on my plate. So I'm a little overwhelmed. To give you an idea. As I said before, Julia arrives tonight, tomorrow I have financial statements due to Mr. Gates, who, you know, just invested a lot of money into my little company, then I will food shop for the parties I am throwing this weekend. Yes, plural. On Saturday, my brother, Matt will arrive, we will prepare for Sabine's going away party and Julia's goodbye party. There are 29 people expected. At my house. Which is, by the way, messy and covered with smokey and sandy laundry from camping last weekend and swimming this week. And toys and towels and WEEDS in the backyard. On Sunday, I will say goodbye to Matt and then host a baby shower for my friend Shawna, together with her mom and another friend. On Monday, it's back to work for me, where the hardest worker in my staff is on vacation for 2 days. Tuesday I take Sabine to the airport at the crack of dawn. And somewhere in there I will get to know Julia and teach all the ways of the Herman house and family. And I haven't added Bryson to the handbook, yet, but I should since he requires the most time and effort. Other than Addie who has been nearly impossible as of late.

So my blog is run-on. And my heart is excited and sad. And my party might not be in an immaculate house. Or in a weedless yard. And the food might just be the basics. And the baby shower games might be played on regular paper rather than fancy paper. And the brownies made from a box. And the gift bought on the way. And I will meet my work deadline somehow, I always do. And Julia will be great, the kids will love her, they will give her a hard time at first, but they will love her. And Sabine's family can't wait to see her again. And Matt will be okay. And he WILL come home. And I have some of the best friends and women in my life, family too, some who live far away and support me no matter what. Who let me have that big long cry I needed to have on the phone rather than in their arms. And isn't it fun to be at the other end of THAT call. And, oh yeah, there is a vacation planned this month.

So if I can just make it one week. Things will settle and I can "relax".

And at the heart of it all, I have my Lawrence, my Lily, my Addie, & my Bryson. They are the faces that make the winds of change more carefree and full of hope of happy days to come.

My Soldier

My soldier
That's what they called him
If you have any questions, "ask your soldier"
If you need to get a hold of "your soldier" here's how to do it.

In my mind, I know I am unlike most of the family in the room, because, unlike them, my soldier doesn't pay my bills or provide my medical insurance.
I feel somewhat unworthy of my sadness because I only have to explain to my children why their uncle won't be around for a year.

Others have to tell their kids about a daddy who will be missing every day and every night.

I want to commit to keeping in touch and making sure my soldier knows he is loved. As often as I can. But I don't have to keep a marriage alive.

My soldier isn't my son, and he isn't my husband. I keep controlling my tears because I think that mine are less warranted than someone who has a soldier who runs their home and their heart.
And I can't imagine how those family members feel, because of how sad I feel about my soldier going away.

But even so. He is my soldier. He's the soldier that is mine. He's the one that I'll write to, and think about, and worry for.

He probably wishes I wouldn't, but I'll even pray for his safety.

Often. Daily. Hourly, even.
I need my soldier to come home, to stay safe. To remain unharmed.
For me. For my mom. For Heather. For Addie. For Lily. For Bryson.

I need him to come home and keep being part of my family. For most of my life, he's been half of the two people who are my family.
There's something I haven't told my soldier, and I'm sorry, even ashamed of that. I'm proud of you. I am. I'm really proud of my soldier.

Because he is a good man, and a good brother, and a good son, and a good uncle. And a good soldier. If you get to call him your soldier, too, you know how lucky you are.


And even when I was in a sea of soldiers last week, and I couldn't see his face. I knew which was one he was.

Because, He is my soldier.

He's my baby brother.

My mom just sent me the news. And my stomach turned. The news we were expecting, waiting for, dreading, and proud of. And I'm swelled with a mixture of emotions. I'm really proud of how my brother has excelled in his work with the National Guard. He's good at it, and he's been noted at the top of his class more than a few times. Selfishly, I don't want him to go to Iraq. Selfishly, I feel sad for my little girls who will desperately miss their uncle and for my mom who will endlessly worry for her only son. I feel encouraged that only two soldiers were lost in the last round of soldiers who went to Iraq from Oregon, but I know to their families, two doesn't feel like "only". It feels like everything. I'm sad, I'm worried. But I am also very very proud.

You see, he's my baby brother.




Breaking News, Central Oregon, Eastern Oregon, Politics »

Eastern Oregon Guard troops to deploy for Iraq in November
By Julie Sullivan, The Oregonian
April 26, 2010, 7:22PM
It's official: Oregon Army National Guard soldiers will be among the
last troops to serve in Iraq. On Monday, the Department of Defense
ordered 600 troops based in La Grande to deploy in November.

They will serve during "Operation New Dawn," the final phase of the
Iraq war scheduled to begin Sept. 1 when American troops shift from
combat and intelligence into a role of advising and assisting the Iraqi
forces, said a Pentagon spokesman.

Under President Barack Obama, the number of U.S. troops serving in
Iraq are scheduled to drop from 95,000 today to 50,000 on Sept. 1, and
to withdraw completely from Iraq by Dec, 31, 2011.

Despite the mission's new name, the 3rd Battalion of the 116th Cavalry
Brigade will be performing an old job -- guarding supply convoys. Last
week, nearly 2,700 fellow Oregonians from the 41st Infantry Brigade
Combat Team returned to the state after 10 months providing convoy
security across two thirds of Iraq and other security operations. Two
Oregon soldiers were killed by a roadside bomb during the tour.

The 116th soldiers are based in Hood River, The Dalles, Woodburn,
Redmond, La Grande, Baker City, Ontario, Hermiston and Pendleton. They
are tank and infantry units, best known stateside for fighting
wildfires. They will deploy as part of the 116th Cavalry Brigade Combat
Team, in Boise. About 230 members of the battalion will remain at home.

More on the 41st
Read past coverage by The Oregonian on the deployment of Oregon Army
National Guard troops from the 41st Infantry Brigade Combat Team.
The La Grande-based unit last deployed for "Operation Iraqi Freedom" in
2004. Three-quarters have served at least one tour, said battalion
commander, Lt. Col. Phillip Appleton.

He said the troops will train in Idaho beginning this summer, then move
into intensive training at Camp Shelby, Miss., after formally
mobilizing on Sept. 17. They are expected to spend 10 months in Iraq.

"The most important thing is that employers and families continue their
support to make the soldiers' transition easier," Appleton said.

A little bit of drowning.

A few of you have reminded me that there are no blog posts since Mar 22. Well that was the day I returned to work, and my new normal changed. So that's the reason there are no posts. Because today is that last day of the quarter, and because I have no time to share the good the bad, and the ugly with you all, I'm going to to give you a "little things" list, JCH style (her style is way more articulate and spunky than what I have time or energy to do)!

Going back to work hasn't been as bad as I thought
Going back to work has been a million times harder than I thought
Got walked in on at work while pumping by male coworker = humiliating
Milk supply isn't the best, but I'm making due. One bottle of formula per day.
Sabine is in Miami today to meet one of her BFFs from Germany who came to see her- SO excited for her.
Mom came to watch the kids
Mom's car broke down 25 miles outside of Portland (she lives 6 hrs away so it could be worse)
Mom's car can't be fixed
Used car shopping with mom this week
New work out goal is 5 days out of 7 per week
Last week I did 6 days! Love extra credit.
This weekend I get to go jean shopping.
With a gift card from Xmas. Wahoo!
My friend Julie has cancer again. For the third time. After an 11 month "break". I'm pissed! Devastated! Grrr. Words can't describe how much I wish she didn't have to rally her troops and get her fighting gloves on. AGAIN!
Damn Chemo is getting in the way of a super fabulous vacation she had planned though, and that BITES!
Riding in a car with my mom driving is enough to make me wanna drink
Riding with my mom driving in a stranger's car, in the city, while they sit in the back seat = priceless thrill ride (of course, no offense mom!)
Keep "forgetting" to eat or drink water all day and that is no good - but where to fit it in.
B at work, was on vacation at work for 3 days last week. SHE DOES A LOT OF WORK. I know, cause I did her job while she was out. I'm not good at her job. I'd rather review that work, not DO it.
I'm glad she's back, and will make sure to treat her like the GEM she is from now on!
I scrapbooked last Friday and Sunday - I'm up to June 2009!
Shred on-line boards has added 4 members looking for accountability partners; positive energy from great women supporting each other is essential for a lovely life
I can't stop wondering if being "brave" for posting before and after pics on this blog is a compliment or not?
I miss Robin Cummings!
Why are we so hard on ourselves, moms? STOP IT!!!
My friend Melinda came from Boise during the week to recycle some maternity clothes and cloth diapers passed on by another friend. Only a few minutes to chat, but great to see her. Found out her hubby is going to "the yucky place" with my brother next year. He's going, Matt's going, might be in the same unit, however all that works.
I'm getting to bed too late and getting up too early.
This is the first time I've set an alarm clock since having children.
BUT...Bryson is sleeping through the night.
Addie is going through the hardest time with me returning to work. Bedtime battles = understatement.
Lily has been doing awesome. She isn't getting the credit she deserves because I keep being too busy with the other two to notice properly. I'm working on that.
Seriously, my baby has the best smile ever...you can't help but get a little tickle in your heart when he squeals and smiles at the sight of you. Yummy!
My girls have started fighting with each other like sisters. A lot! It was a good ride...
We went to church on Sunday and I felt so loved by God. Especially during the singing.
Sabine came too, I liked having her there.
Passover is this week, we talked about it a lot and then hid the Matzah - Addie found it and got a dollar, then we hid it for fun. No one knows why we hide the afikomen, but we did it because that's what you do.
Saturday the Powers came over for a BBQ. It was great, the 3 girls played good. I love them and the friendship they bring. So excited their family is growing! Yep you heard that right? !!
Lawrence got to go skiing on Sunday, with a friend, he forgot what a good skiier he was with out me or kids to hold him back. HE DESERVED IT!!!
I'M SO SO SO SO SO SO thankful for how great Sabine did with my three children last week. She can totally do this. She can do it well.
I hate to think of the day when she will leave our family. I don't know yet when that is, but no matter when it is, it will be too soon!
Uncle Matt is on the way this morning so Gma Lanie "Yanie" as Addie says, doesn't have to go it alone. He has only been home for 3 days after drilling for a month in AZ, so I REALLY appreciate being able to count on him in a pinch.
Thanks to Heather too!
I haven't found my "organized" rhythm that makes me feel sane. No balance yet. Not sure what to do when I have a free minute because there are too many things to choose from.
So I chase my tail a lot. Sometime for 20 full minutes.
My husband has been amazing lately. He's really stepping it up with a smile. Our marriage feels SO strong and on the same wave length for several months now. Boy is that a good thing!
Date night is a MUST this weekend. A MUST!
We both need to dig a little deeper for patience and a good discipline strategy for our nutty 2.5 year old. Kinda going through the noneffective, inconsistent motions right now...with a dash of doing it right here and there.
This is my "me" time for the day. I'm drowning. Last day of the month and the quarter. Can't close until I finish my review of the year end closing that happened while I was on leave.
So.Much.To.Do.
I'm still in a good mood. A good drowning mood.
I am blessed.

Despite drowning this week, I can also say that I haven't been this strong, mind, body, and soul for a really long time. There isn't time to blog about it because I'm sinking most days with so much more to do than what is possible. There is a whole blog to write on each of these sentences. Maybe I will, maybe I won't.

Thanks for your support this week Jenn, Sabine, Kirstin, Lawrence, and Mom...can't believe the overflow of love that keeps me afloat.

Three Cheers for Uncle Matt

For the last week I have been gearing up to be on my own with all three kids during the day for the first long periods of time. Sabine went to visit a friend in the Midwest and check out Chicago (a much deserved mini vacation for her!) I know this shouldn't be so difficult, but there are a lot of different little needs going on around here - and I'm still figuring out how to meet them all while going on very little sleep. For example, while alone one morning, I was nursing Bryson (who hasn't been nursing great by the way, though you'd never know it by his enormous size!) and I hear "Addie went POOPIE in the potty, mama", so I know that if I stop Bryson from eating, he won't start again, and I'd really love for him to get a full feeding, but I also know that Addie CANNOT yet wipe herself. For a moment I consider asking Lily to wipe her, but then I remember, um, she's FIVE and I doubt she'd actually go for it anyway, no matter how big of a help she likes to be...this might be where she'd draw the line. So I ask Lily to get me a wipe from Bryson's changing table and bring it to me, and tell Addie to come into his room next to the glider where I'm nursing, and I wipe her little poopie bottom while feeding my two month old, all the while Lily is laughing hysterically while I demand for her to bring me a plastic baggie and some hand sanitizer to dispose of the wipe. It takes her 10 minutes to do this as she is simply drunk with all the laughter. And yet I feel pretty good about finding a solution. I said to my mom the other day, "I have three children, I need to learn to take care of them all by myself". Even if it means I have to wake Bryson from a short nap, throw him and Addie in their car seats and race to be the last mom in car line to pick Lily up from preschool, with my shoes untied and my teeth not brushed, apologizing to her teacher for my lateness. I still think, "Yay, I did it!" haha. Lily says, "Mom, I knew you were coming, sometimes you are late". Yes Lil, "sometimes" I am. Only sometimes.

So, while I know I CAN do it, at the same time.....

...I felt OH so relieved that my little brother said he was free and on his way through town and could stay for 2 nights. Even if I wasn't on my own, I knew it would make the girls so happy. They adore, ADORE their uncle Matt. And they spent two days climbing all over him, wrestling, dancing, game playing, crafting, make believing, you NAME it, they played it. He even got Addie down for 2 naps!! He's also come along way with maneuvering an infant and wasn't awkward with Bryson like he used to be with the girls. (No offense meant by that, holding a newborn IS awkward when they feel so breakable). It isn't always fun and games. The girls are always so excited that they go nuts and misbehave for the first full day of seeing him. They can't get enough that they act like lunatics! I wish he could see them in their natural environment so he would know that they are good girls. I know he does know that, but he always has to deal with them being so spastic and riled up that it is many hours of CRRRAAAAZZZY when he arrives! :) Exhausting would be an understatement. But luckily he's young and seems to always muster up all the energy required to have fun with them whenever he's needed.

Bryson gave him lots of smiles and also made sure he knew that he was happy to see him.
When it was time for Matt to leave the girls were very sad. They were happy that they got to see his girlfriend, Heather, who came to pick him up. Lily played HARD the last 30 minutes with them (yet another made up game of taking off socks!) and was pretty sad to go to school, even though she had a field trip to the fire department.

Matt is in the National Guard, and so since he signed up there has been the possibility of him being deployed. Now we know, he will have to go for a year, probably leaving in August. We don't know where yet, or even if we'll get to know where, but I can't stop thinking about how hard it will be to have him gone for so long. I will miss my brother, but my children will miss their Uncle Matt so so much.

I have a lot to be thankful for lately. I'm WAY behind on thank yous. Thank yous of many types - any of you reading may be sick of hearing me say thanks to people by the time I get caught up on thanking people in my life. But I am so thankful for the last few days with my little brother and with the fun he got to have with my girls. And even though it shouldn't make a difference in the way we love our family, I can't help but being more nostalgic about our time together. Knowing that we won't be together next Christmas or next Thanksgiving made this Thanksgiving and THIS Christmas all the more special. And as the Fall draws closer I know I will feel that more and more each time we see each other.

Thank you so much, Uncle Matt. Even though the girls get so excited, and they wear you out, and Lawrence and I use you as our personal tech support guy, and even though I didn't feed you yesterday on accident, I hope that when you leave our home, you feel and know one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt.

You are loved.

Blanchet Family Reunion Pics - August 8th

I wrote a little about the family reunion at Red Bridge State Park August 7-9 here. But I didn't post any pictures, like I thought I did. This is the LAST of my catching up. Hooray, I am caught up with something. What a great feeling! After this camping trip we were going to plan one more (and it was going to be this weekend) but I felt so run down and exhausted that we didn't and can I tell you how GLAD I am that we are not camping this weekend. Oh so so so glad. We have a busy enough weekend ahead, but no packing, no crouching, no decampfiring, and not crawling out of a tent in the freezing cold at 4am to go PEE!


Lily and daddy making dinner over the campfire

Addie and Marley (my cousin Amy's son) - Addie is almost a year older but you'd never know it!
Addie and Rosy - my best cousin friend! :)
Addie having "dinner" on the first night. What, they are whole wheat and we are camping, who cares if she was eating them straight out of the pan?
Lily and Addie so happy after getting Grandma Lanie's tent set up for her. They were big helpers and made the process SO much quicker.


COOOOOOOOOLD. Getting Addie bundled for the night. With a lot of laughing.
Play Doh table. Yeah, I'll admit it, we are always the cool and prepared parents at these things. Maybe it is my obsessiveness in not wanting to be the one with bored kids, or maybe it is needing validation from older family members of how well behaved my children are, or maybe it is shear laziness that if I bring enough for them to do, I don't have to entertain them myself. In any case, the kids are always excited to see what Lawrence and I have in our trunk of fun (aka the Trailblazer) and this year we picked up a brand new pack of Play Doh for the occassion. Allowing ME to sit for almost an hour in one shot. Heh!
The camping spot of the reunion this year was perfect for bike riding. There was a large parking lot without much traffic right next to our tent, so the girls rode bikes a lot. Addie doesn't ride as much as she waits to be pushed, but she is getting the art of pedaling down slightly. Even if she refuses to actually do it as a method to make herself go.
Brushing your teeth outside. AWE-some!
Me and Kristen (my cousin John's wife) comparing bellies! We are both having boys, Kristen and John are expecting their first child, John Hunter Blanchet on Oct 28. We are excited for next year to see our two little guys playing together at the family reunion.

My brother was in LaGrande for his National Guard drill, so he got to come for a few hours one night. Of course this made the 3 ladies of my family (mom, Lily, & Addie) MORE than thrilled. I thought this was a very good picture of he and mom.
Riding your bike in your PJs...priceless.
Susannah and Lily
Lily on her favorite seat - Uncle Matt's shoulder
Me and Addie with my cousins Petra and Clemy - The last day I was trying to get things ready to go and Addie just wanted to be held. My back was killing me after 3 days of holding Addie and crawling in and out of the tent. So I said "mommy can't hold you, who can't hold you?" She said "Pet-Pet". So sweet, then Petra did hold her for the whole morning. We love you Petra! :) We were so happy to see Petra, who is back in Mexico working at the mission-based deaf school. We always miss her so much, what a wonderful young lady.


Grandma Lanie and Addie having "MILK TIME" and snuggles with bear-bear by the breakfast campfire.

Uncle Matt doin' what Uncle Matt does best...I think their faces pretty much say it all.
Aunt Caroline holding the Birthday gift that Addie and Lily made for Grandma Lanie

21 weeks pregnant! Posted only 5 weeks late! :)

Great Aunt Cressie (one of two of my Grandpa's sisters we have left) and me and Addie being shy.
Cousin Amy and her new baby Shelby Rayne.
The girls and Uncle Matt. Neither will leave his side.
CUUUTE!

Our family playing in the river. It was SO cold but we had a great time.

What a wonderful family reunion. I'm so glad that my family does this every year. Lily now remembers and looks forward to it. When I was a kid our family had a campground near Ukiah that my Grandpa's family (and his cousin, I think, owned). Anyway, I remember the reunions with such fun and fondness. I can remember the exactly places I slept, and the swing, and the little swimming hole in the nearby creek. My mom did a great job of keeping me in touch with so much of the extended family over the years. Her cousins, her aunts and uncles, their kids and (now) grandkids. I'm so close to so many of them, and I realize that some of my other cousins are just now meeting them for the first time that they would remember. It feels so special to have a deep relationship with the older generation.

It's really awesome. One other special person that I don't have a picture of here (though I'm sure my mom will dig one up and email it to me pronto after reading this) is Opal. She is my mom's cousin's (Herb) wife. Before my mom had kids, she didn't think she really wanted kids. Opal DESPERATELY wanted kids but was never able to conceive. My mom told Opal if she ever had kids she would give them to Opal. So when I was born and Opal met me for the first time, she said, "Thanks, hand her over...". By that point my mom had already grown very attached to me and decided she'd go ahead and keep me. Over the years it has always been a joke that Opal was "almost" my mommy. I even told Lily that if Grandma Lanie wouldn't have been my mommy, Opal would be my first pick. I don't know if it is because of this, but Opal and I have always had a strong connection. Herb and Opal tried several times to adopt a baby, ending in heartbreaking story after story (many of which I'm sure I don't know). They were foster parents to 100s of kids. At some points I remember their modest home being filled with over 10 foster kids. Opal's loving heart and need to parent was almost filled by helping these kids. There was one boy who she tried to adopt for his full 18 years, David. He was Native American, and there were issues related to that that made it impossible for the adoption to go through. When I think of Opal's story, I think it is an example of lives being touched because things don't go our way. God has plans for us in this life that are so much bigger than our own. Hundred's of kids (including the awful ones, like small boys with sexual abuse issues) were taken in and cared for and shown love (some for the first time) by Herb and Opal. They made a difference in more lives in more ways that is even fathomable. The made more of an impact that some of us will ever make during their fostering years. All because their hopes and dreams and prayers were not answered. They are a reminder that we have a choice of what to do with our dissapointments and life long pains of wishing and wondering what if.

My family is a little bit redneck, a little bit country folk, and a lot of bit wonderful people with really big hearts that I am so proud to call MY family.