Paper

We are coming to the time in Auralia's life where she's beginning to take pride in her accomplishments, and can vocalize or demonstrate that she wants nothing more than our pride in her as well.

She's so funky, this child of ours. A mix of Jeremey and I, so completely and undeniably ours. She seems to have taken bits and pieces of both of us to meld perfectly into Auralia.

My child of hope.

Auralia hands me paper every day. Every hour. Sometimes it seems like every minute. Parts of the day are spent coloring outside the lines, learning the alphabet or recognizing shapes. I draw heads and stick people, elephants and cows, giraffes, mice, barns, moons, bones, moose, and more. My artistic ability is growing by leaps and bounds. And she takes pride in coloring in their eyes, or ears, hair or boogers. She loves to draw boogers. She loves to draw sticks and circles that she calls hearts.

It makes me yearn.

Sometimes the need to express myself is overwhelming. And perhaps Auralia understands this more than most people.

The need to press pencil, pen, paintbrush or crayon to paper can consume me. The urge to tap a keyboard or to stroke piano keys is like a nicotine craving, sharp and serrated. And the urge should be so easy to fulfill.

How is it that these urges, these cravings and needs to express ourselves, that most women feel, get pushed aside? The same way we get so busy that we forget we need to pee, we toss aside our thoughts, feelings, and dreams because we're too busy to listen to ourselves.

Or we're too afraid to.

I want to write. Something that will move people. That will make people yearn, or their hearts swell, stomach's drop, eyes fill.

I want souls to quiver.

Maybe it starts now. Maybe it starts with Auralia holding up a notebook and a crayon to me and saying, "Paper, Mama."

From: Passing the Light. By Chesnay Susan Thomas 1968

i will
dance naked
when i first
learn
to walk...
and there
will be
a rainbow of light
colors
to blind
the binding minds
the closed hearts
of the men and women
who said
"never"
i will not
simply walk
but
fly
with wings of gold
woman
warrior
feeling with a heart
the fineness of the journey
and dancing naked
at the edge of dawn
is the gate
that moves my soul
into the endless
realm
of possibility

Appreciating Anticipation

"We can always do that next year!"

...not so great words for a military family. And probably heard more around the holidays than any other time of year. There is SO much to do around the holidays with family and friends, really cool things to take the baby to, great experiences, great food, and not enough time over holiday weekends to fit it all in. Which is ok... I don't need to overwhelm or overfeed my family too much, because we always have next year to experience it all together. Right?

Well, not so much.

There are not too many things worst or even close to as bad as a deployment, but anticipating a deployment might just be up there on the top of my list. You start thinking about what he's gonna miss...different holidays, birthdays, anniversaries plus the day-to-day drivel that becomes important once your spouse is gone and missing it.

So for the next few weeks we'll recognize and appreciate the memories we're making. Every day. Every moment. Which isn't something that every family takes the opportunity to do. Thinking about how your spouse will most likely be gone for the next Thanksgiving or the next Christmas, and a child's birthday or two, makes every day that you are sharing together a little more appreciable.

A lot bittersweet.

A lot more important.

Inconvienent Hampering

I have been grumpy. And most of it I can just blame on PMS or hormones or whatever, but a large part of it is that I feel inconvenienced. I really hate that.

It all comes down to the choices that we've made, or haven't made. And I do indeed feel like most of the time, we make the right choices. There's a reason, somewhere out there, that my husband needs to be away from me and my child for long periods of time. I won't know it until I get to look back on the period of time, but I'm sure it'll be there. I just can't seem to comfort myself with that fact though. Not yet.

The months after our daughter was born while he was away, was a time where I was needed at home with my parents. In specific, my mom needed me while she underwent multiple surgeries. And while that's a really shitty reason to be needed back home, it gave us time together that I wouldn't give up for the whole wide world. She's closer to my daughter than I could ever hope, and she taught me in those months how to be a better mother to my daughter.

In the next coming months I'll finish my degree in Colorado, I'll be needed if my mother does need yet another surgery, I'll be around family who, while they don't really need me.. Maybe they'll do better when I'm around.

But man, my head hurts.

It's so much different thinking about separation when you have a child who knows that their parent is gone.

How am I supposed to teach her strength and courage and resiliency except for by example? And while that's all good in theory, we haven't actually tried it out yet. (Enter tearful chuckle here)

I think, one of the best parts of being a parent, is getting to share it. And one of the saddest parts of the military, is how sharing is often hampered.

How do you spell that?

K-O-R-E-A

That's what's going on.

Yep.

July of next year, Jer reports, unaccompanied by moi, (due to the fact that where he's going to in Korea doesn't want family members) he'll be there for a year.

So.. I'll be moving back to Colorado around Christmas time of this year.. because in January he reports to Arizona, unaccompanied by moi, again (due to the fact that the military hates us)... he'll be there til mid June.

Does this suck or what?

Ya.

That's about all I got right now... today is a busy day. So, more later.

My Child Loves Ham.

Blogging has not been on my list of things-to-do recently...which isn't a necessarily a bad thing. My life has been busy. I'm working from home, handling a 15-credit school load for the first time in years, have been in Colorado, been sick, been diagnosed with kidney stones, and I have a sick toddler. Plus normal every day duties.

I like being busy. I really, really enjoy it. Except for when I'm tired. I've felt just utterly exhausted for about 4 days now.

And I feel...ultimately blessed, because I have a husband who doesn't mind taking care of things either while I'm gone, or when I come back from vacation sick and in pain and with a very cranky baby.

I was reading a magazine article yesterday about the life lessons you learn from your children.. one parent had said, "I learned that love at first sight really does exist." Did I love my baby at first sight? I really did, and I know (and completely understand) parents who don't absolutely love their little one at first sight. Pregnancy, birth, and hormones are all tricky things even in the best of situations..so I understand that it can take some time to bond with a baby... But I was one of those parents that loved my baby as soon as I had her in my arms. More than that tho... I think I loved her from conception.

Does that make parenting easy? Nope. Does it give me a different perspective? Nope. Does that make her an easy-going, quiet as a mouse, sitting still child? Not even a little bit.

I love her for her opinions. I love that she's living in a world where I can listen to her opinions, that I can have pride in her intelligence, her charm, AND her tantrums.

I thought that when I was pregnant, and then the first 6 months of her life while the husband was deployed, that it would be probably one of the hardest things to get through, ever. Pregnancy alone is infinitely easier than taking care of a baby alone. But none of it turned out to be as hard as I thought. When the husband did come home, I thought.. leaving Colorado would be hard, and it was. I thought, the husband and the baby getting to know each other would be hell.. And it was. I also thought... I can't wait until she can actually communicate what she wants to us. Won't it be easier when she can actually say if something hurts or if she's mad or sad or hungry, or at least answer a yes or no question?

Now she says... "Hun-Gee, Mama." "Kitchen." Which does indeed give me a clue. Then she says, "Ham. Ham. Mama. Ham." That also gives me a clue. But God help us if we are out of ham and you try to give the child a piece of turkey or roast beef instead.

Point of this blog.. not much really. Actually, pretty much no point at all except for I had thoughts to get out.

Juggling

There's a house down the street, one where the lights can often be seen burning all through the night. There are two cars in the driveway, although you'll only see one ever move. A woman, relatively young is often seen entering and exiting this house. She juggles. She will juggle books, children, pets, grief, loneliness, work, family, friends, chores, daily ups and downs, ups and downs and down some more...

Juggling is a necessary skill in this neighborhood. And those that drop their balls are often called weak. And those that are weak, don't usually live here for long.

Eyes can stay shadowed for months, dogs may bark when a twig is blown by the wind, and babies may scream 22 hours a day. Routine jobs are seldom held, oil changes are usually forgotten and chicken nuggets may be on the dinner table tonight.

But the floor is vacuumed and most likely Febreeze'd. Scentsey candles fragrance the air because Linda, two doors down, just had a party. The kitchen is swept and mopped, the laundry is folded, and the dishes done.

Makes you wonder what the important "balls" are.