The Toughest Two Days....And Infinite Love Before, During, and After

My dogs are no longer here by my side...

We said goodbye to Daisy on March 6. She passed at home, in her bed, with the assistance of an in-home hospice vet with her family by her side. As the process began, she sat up, licked Claymore’s eyes (which she had done a million times before) as he began to lie down. She put her head on Claymore and he stayed with her until after she was gone. She had taken care of him since he joined our family—it was comforting to see him take care of her as she left this world.

Claymore was here with us almost exactly 48 more hours. He passed Monday with the assistance of the veterinarian who had cared for him (he had many health problems before cancer) for years. Though we were not at home, it was the first spring-like day here in Virginia and we were able to say goodbye outside in the sun. We used to call him Claymore Seeker of Sunlight.

Our hearts are shattered. I have felt physically sick and every part of my day feels completely wrong. They were the absolute best. I miss them more than words. I am so grateful they spent their lives with me. I am thankful for BARC, the rescue organization who helped them find us. My family needed them—I needed them—they needed each other. I will carry their love and lessons and laughter with me for the rest of my life. Everyone who knows their bond is not surprised that they left this world so close together. And, since they did, we requested a private cremation for them together...and they will be returned to us in a single velvet bag. (We have never had ashes returned to us before, but somehow this felt like the appropriate thing to do.) Our plan is, when we are ready, to take a trip in their honor. They lived all over the country with us. And we would like to return them to some of their favorite places, together, forever. Maybe I will right about that journey...

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I shared the posting below on my Facebook page on March 9. I still want a place to come back to, if I need help remembering (though I can't imagine I would ever forget) or to move forward with processing this overwhelming grief:

No words can even begin to do justice to how lucky I am or how much brighter my life is because Daisy and Claymore shared their lives with me. I want to tell their stories, of their adventures and all of the love. Of how they were the most bonded pair I could imagine AND two unique individuals—a yin and yang that fit perfectly together and completed our family. They loved their human family members as much as they loved each other. And we felt that every single day. And then, I realize, because of the outpouring of support, people DO know quite a bit of this. I find comfort in the fact that they made so many people smile and laugh and feel the love, whether they knew them through Facebook or in person. It is my hope that others will continue to be reminded of them, perhaps when they see pure unconditional love and friendship in any relationship, or any of their other unique characteristics that made them so amazing as individuals. To say one is “a Daisy to another’s Claymore” or “a Claymore to another’s Daisy,” (or a Daisy or a Claymore in their own right) in my opinion, would be the highest compliment among family, friends, or partners (or to an individual).

Saying I miss them so very, very much is an understatement to say the least. I read the quote below in a book recently and it resonates with me... I will take the pain—I only feel it because of the love...so much love. Maybe one day I will find my own words to better honor their lives. But that is beyond my abilities right now and it also seems an impossible task for a human to ever put into words the pure love, life, and joy they embodied. So for now I will thank you all for seeing them and loving them...and for being there for my family during this time. I believe their love was so infinite that the compassion we are being shown right now is my two best buddies still finding ways to spread that love to help me through these tough days.

“Moonlight beams through his eyelids and he can see, as if it’s the lake in front of him, the pain and loss he’s been swimming in for years. In the moonlight, though, the pain is revealed to be love. The emotions are entwined; they are the two sides of the same gleaming coin.”

From Dear Edward by Ann Napolitano

(Picture from February 2018, San Diego)

Grief and Goals

 

My dogs are dying.  (Yes, I know "we are all dying..." My dogs are terminally ill--with cancer that's rapidly advancing.)  It feels unbearable.  I could go on and on about how they are the most bonded pair I have ever met, how they were diagnosed with the same (rare) lung cancer exactly two weeks apart, the expenses and guilt of choosing palliative care for this senior pair, the rollercoaster of the past four months, the lack of sleep, the INTENSE anticipatory grief that won't let up and the fact I know the grief to come will be even worse, the fact that these dogs saw me through over a decade of military wife life as my constant companions in a world of chaos...  I realize that many people are struggling and I am fortunate to have so many privileges (like the financial ability to do all that I can for them and a flexible work schedule to spend time with them).  But these dogs are my family--they have pulled me through some tough times.  My time and energy have been dedicated to them in so many ways (especially recently) and my self-worth and comfort, I realize, are largely wrapped up in that bond.  I am so lucky their lives have been spent with me--we've had so many adventures and wonderful times.  I used to say the only time I was ever truly happy and in the moment was when I was walking my dogs.

All of this comes down to the fact that I hurt physically and mentally in a way I have never have before.  I have lost dogs before--dogs that I loved deeply.  I have never lost two dogs at essentially the same time, with a full-time demanding career, with huge family commitments, during a global pandemic where I have been isolated for a year.  People have suggested I journal about my feelings.  I don't like feelings/emotions--especially the ones that are so hard to feel.  But I do realize that I USED to write about my trials and tribulations with my pups.  I realize that I once found a blog about a dog who had the same disease as my Sampson, and reached out to the author who gave me some solidarity and support during that tough journey.  Maybe this will help me.  Maybe somehow in some way someone will find this and it can support them.  Or maybe I'm just rambling with no reason or purpose because I am so desperate.  Regardless, here I am--after a LONG hiatus from this virtual space.

I'm trying to figure out how I am ever going to make it through this still standing.  It seems impossible.  But I have a daughter (and husband, career, family, and friends)--so I have no choice other than to try--not just try, but stay "still standing."  I'm searching for any way for some GOOD to come from this tragedy.  I can't fathom how that is even possible, but I have to hold on to something to keep me putting one foot in front of the other and functioning on some level these days.  I am working on living in the lessons Daisy and Claymore have taught and continue to teach me, not the least of which are to live in the moment and love unconditionally.  I hope I can come out on the other side of this stronger somehow.

Speaking of strong, the one thing I have been making sure I do during this time is exercise.  I've always been dedicated to fitness, but it has taken on new meaning.  We got a Peloton last year (I may have joined a cult but that's for another post...) and back in December I committed to trying to do at least one activity every day for a year.  That doesn't mean I have to do a hard bike ride, but SOMETHING Peloton offers--even if it is a 5-minute stretch or meditation...something that forces me to focus on that goal at least once per day.  So far, I've kept it up.  Today, the weather was actually nice (after a ridiculous month of insane winter weather) so I went for a run in my neighborhood with the Peloton app.  I've been riding much more than running these days.  (I am now 40 and my knees and below often feel like I'm way older than that.)  But I thought about the fitness goals I have had before.  I wonder if I could run a half marathon again?  Not for speed or time or even in a formal race, but just to have a goal to help push me through this grief.  So, that's (maybe?) my goal...by my 41st birthday.  I'm putting it out there.  And I will try.  If I fail, I know I can do 13.1 miles on the bike.  I just hope I can make it through this seemingly unbearable time still standing...

Lonely or Free?

Oh.my.goodness.  I've found it.  The book…I mean, THE book I have been looking for at least for the past 6 years, possibly my whole life.  It is not often that I am truly amazed by someone's writing (unless it's academic…nerd alert).  But it.has.happened!  One and Only by Lauren Sandler (2013, Simon & Schutzer) both says everything I want to say and tells me everything I have been longing to hear (and she's done her homework…it's not just lip-service).  I just started the book and it's already on my top books of all time list.  I was wondering how I was going to document all of the quotes I don't want to forget…so I decided to do it here.

I've been open about my struggles being an only child and the tough decision to have only one child (which I still struggle with on a regular basis)…I've even touched on the subject here.  It IS a continuous struggle.  As my parents grow older (and have life-altering "health events" like my mom's multiple joint replacements and my dad's heart attack and bypass surgery), seeing my friends lose their parents, witnessing my friends with siblings share in parenthood and become friends, hearing my daughter talk about being singled out (no pun intended) for being an only child, wondering how K's life  would be different if she had a sibling, hearing the evil/rude/disrespectful/ignorant comments from others about my decisions (both crushing me and insulting me…families are not one size fits all, people!)…. It's a constant internal battle for me.

I've known, pretty much since I got pregnant, that I would only have one child, despite my CERTAINTY I wanted a big family before I actually created a child.  I was not a good pregnant person.  I felt like crap.  I had a c-section that went all kinds of crazy (resulting in a postpartum hemorrhage that went undiagnosed, but that's for another time).  Buzz never wanted another child.  I did.  He didn't.  I "gave in" to "only" having one because I figured one child was enough strain on our marriage and he wanted that one.  If we had one only because I forced the issue, and our marriage went really south, that would not be good for K or her hypothetical sibling.  Plus, I wanted a career.  I HAVE an amazing career--but I was still able to spend the years before school exclusively with her, and now I have a schedule that compliments her school schedule so I still have the mommy time she needs--I need.

People call me selfish, but working is something that I need to be a mentally healthy person.  I feel like being "together" as a mom (well, as together as I get) is of the utmost importance to being a good mom--and I don't think that is selfish.  People tell me K is only as good as she is because I "only" have one--implying my life would be a total disaster and K would be a terrible person otherwise?  People have accused me of "not liking" mothering.  ON THE CONTRARY!!!  Being a mom is my most favorite, most important, BEST part of my life.  But, there are still other parts of me--and I think those parts help me be a total person, a better mom.

When I really looked deep at why I wanted another child, it was more of a longing for more of each stage with K (rather than wanting another human in my womb or in my home).  I found this blog post recently, which sums up my thoughts on that.  Looking back, though I sometimes "wished" time away (mostly because I was single-parenting with a husband in Iraq), I NEVER neglected to stop and soak up the moment.  I held her.  I watched her.  I held her some more (and was criticized I was making her too dependent--people really do need to mind their own business).  I cherished every day…I felt (and continue to feel) like the most blessed mommy on the face of the planet.  And seeing her grow up warms my heart and breaks it (a little) at the same time.  But having another child will not change that…  My family is complete.

So, back to the book…  Lauren Sandler (who I fully intend to email myself once I am finished with her work of excellence) is both an only child and a mother to an only child.  She is a journalist who cites personal experience and research on only children (and the mothers of them).  For the first time, I feel like someone gets it…gets me!  She does not preach that having an only child is THE thing to do, but recognizes that, as I have said before, families are not one size fits all.  She works to debunk the old, OLD (and stupid) myths of the only child.  I highly recommend this book not just for only children, but for anyone…it offers a unique perspective to a group of people who have been put down for far too long with zero foundation for the negative arguments.  Thank you, Laruen Sandler!  :D

Here are the paragraphs that pulled me in (and I am sure I will be back to share more), from the Introduction pages 7-13:

"In surveys that ask young women how many children they'd like to have, ultimately and ideally, no one says they'd choose to stop at one child, he [sociologist Phillip Morgan at the Carolina Population Center] tells me.  To me, that's like asking a tween girl what her perfect wedding looks like… Our ideals change in concert with our emerging realities--even more so if, as we develop, we opt to interrogate what we thought we wanted, and why we thought we wanted it.

Here are some things I want:  I want to do meaningful work.  I want to travel.  I want to eat in restaurants and drink in bars.  I want to go to movies and concerts.  I want to read novels.  I want to marinate in solitude.  I want to have friendships that regularly sustain and exhilarate me.  I want a romantic relationship that involves daily communication beyond interrogatives and imperatives--I want to be known.  And I want to snuggle with my daughter for as long as she'll let me, being as present in her life as I can while giving her all the space she needs to discover life on her own terms.  I want full participation:  in the world, in my family, in my friendships, and in my own actualization.

In other words, to have a happy kid, I figure I need to be a happy mother, and to be a happy mother, I need to be a happy person.  Like my mother, I feel that I need to make choices within the limits of reality--which means considering work, finances, pleasure--and at the moment I can't imagine how I could possibly do that with another kid…

Still, I agonize every time I see my daughter doting on a friend's baby, just as my own heart has a tendency to devour itself when I take a new tiny person in my arms… When my daughter was born, after all my anxiety about how I'd never changed a diaper…--well, I held my girl, just moments old, and I simply knew what to do.  My confidence and capability stunned me... And yet when I try to imagine doing it again, I feel even greater doubt than I did the first time…

…We need to be more assertive in questioning why exactly we believe our children need siblings.  Because if I am going to choose to have another one, while billions of other people do the same, I should be able to know the reason.

And if it's not because I want to--I mean, really want to--have another child, there's a body of supposed knowledge I need to start questioning.  For myself.  For my daughter.  And for the world I brought her into.  Instead of making a choice to enlarge our families based on stereotypes or cultural pressure, we can instead make that most profound choice our most purely independent one.  It might even feel like something people rarely associate with parenting:  it might feel like freedom."

Yes.  Just, yes...

The girl who stole my heart...

K has successfully tackled her first week of kindergarten.  Another milestone.  I feel so incredibly lucky to have such a strong, independent young lady.  And I can't believe how fast she is growing up right in front of me.  I can't say it happened over night.  There have been signs...  She doesn't like cartoons any more, or anything babyish.  She stopped riding in the running stroller (as much, sometimes I can still bribe her by letting her play Angry Birds) because she thinks that is babyish.  She's way into fashion.  She loves to listen to her iPod and pretend like she's making music videos.  Her favorite musical artists are Evanescence, Katy Perry, and Ke$ha.  I know, I know...don't judge, please.  I'm of the philosophy that I can't hide her from what's out there.  I heard a little boy in her class the other day singing Ke$ha, so we are not alone.  Plus, we're still all good because she still says my dad is the best singer and guitar player in the world.  So, she does have musical taste, she's just a fan of the top pop, too. 

Anyway...kindergarten is here.  And she's rocking it.  And I feel comfortable where she is.  My biggest issue is fear of all the germs she's being exposed to and the sociologist in me doesn't like that I am mandated to send her somewhere 5 days a week.  But if we have to do it, I think she is at the absolute best place for her.  We kept her at the same school where she went to Pre-K because we loved it so much.  Small classes, familiar faces.  Plus, next year will likely involve another move and all the transitions that come with that and Buzz changing billets again (ah the life of a military family).  So we thought the best thing we could do was give her this continuity while we can.  She has already told me how much she loves the school and wants to stay here for first grade, too or at least find a school just like it when we move (she wanted to have that discussion at 2 am the other night/morning).  They wear uniforms here--well, they have a dress code, I guess I should say.  But that dress code makes her look that much more grown-up.  What happened to my baby?  I'm glad for every milestone and realize how quickly they all pass...so I'm trying to eat up every minute. 

Also, she has continued with her riding lessons and has found a new friend in a pony.  She loves to go after school to hang out with her buddy.

My little girl is growing up...  But she is in this stage where she is still so young, needing just the right combination of protection and freedom.  I hope I am able to give her all that she needs.  She is always going to be that little bundle of joy I held in my arms the day she was born.  The girl who I would stay awake at night when all was quiet and slowed down just to watch her, in disbelief that precious little being was mine.  The baby who took off running one New Years Day, leaving me to not be able to sit down for the next few years.  The girl who would swing for hours and point to the moon every night.  The child who has been by MY side through deployments, keeping me sane and giving me purpose and strength.  The same child who I woke up in the middle of the night to greet a daddy coming home from Iraq, who she only really knew through pictures.  The child who, just a short time later, said goodbye to her daddy for another deployment--and asked him on webcam through that deployment why he wouldn't just come out of that computer and give her mommy a hug--who, when her daddy came home and swooped her up, she asked him to please put her down and give mommy a kiss.  The person who can comfort my dog when he is scared, nervous, or in pain.  The girl who gets more excited about my birthday than her own.  The kindergartner who, when I explained to her that I would need to be working all weekend on my exam, offered to bring me the books I need to the guest room where I will be working so I don't have to walk down the stairs and get them myself.  The child's heart bursts with compassion.  And that girl has stolen my heart--from the second I knew she existed to the moment I saw her in person to this morning when I left her at school playing happily with her friends to right now when I look forward to picking her up and taking her to riding lessons this afternoon.

So, in honor of my no-longer-baby girl, I have two songs to share this week for my favorite link-up. 

First, Jack Johnson's "My Little Girl"...the lyrics say it all.

Second, "My Wish" by Rascal Flats, which makes me tear up every time I hear it.  I know I can't hold her hand every step of the way, but I do hope that every step of the way she gets back all that she gives--and like the song says, I still hope she gives more than she takes.  I know she does now.  My wish is that she can keep her big heart and wear that warm smile even out in the cold world, where my time by her side gets shorter as she grows and I must trust that I am doing the right thing in the times we have together and I can teach her to be that big-hearted sweetheart on the outside, the same as she is on the inside--but tough enough to handle whatever comes her way.  My wish is that she follows her dreams and I can support her through it all.  I know with the life she was born into, that of a military child, many of the lyrics are even stronger for her:  it's hard for her worries to stay small sometimes, I know that sometimes she's going to have to bump up her strength in order to not have to carry more than she can hold, it might not be easy to remember all the places she's been and the people she meets. But she can do it.  She's an amazing little girl...growing up in front of my eyes...

Stop by Goodnight Moon, listen to the other jams, and leave one (or two) of your own!

In hiding...

Oh good grief, I'm terrible at writing on this thing these days.  I think about it all the time.  I love to write, to journal, to vent...and, in the past, this has been a good place to get all of that done in one place.  But lately, I've been a bit in hiding.  I have what could be my final comp exam coming up soon--it WILL be my final exam (yes, the last exam I will ever have to take) IF I pass it.  I'm sweating bullets thinking about it...ahh, stress...

But right now, I'm saturated with studying so I'm looking for things to do to keep my mind OFF the anxiety of the pending exam weekend--yes, weekend--it's 3 full days of test-taking. Ugh!

I have so much to write about...K started kindergarten, Sampson has had more "issues," I had an amazing week at the beach, I turned 31...

I'm stuck on that one right now.  I'm 31.  I feel like I should maybe be a little more successful, done with school, more financially stable.  But, I'm "just" a part-time college instructor/graduate teaching associate, I'm STILL in school, and I feel like a dog chasing its tail with money--largely due to the HUGE economic burdens of graduate school WITH a family.  But, I am where I am.  And I love where I am, if I don't think about the student loan debt.  :)  So, I missed my favorite link-up for the past few weeks with "Goodnight Moon" so I am playing my birthday song today (a couple weeks after the birthday itself) to remind me that I need to enjoy this "ride." 

'Round about my 24th birthday, Buzz got me the License to Chill CD (back when we bought CDs, not just bought music on iTunes).  "Trip around the Sun" was my instant favorite, as the first line is "So I'm singin' happy birthday..."  And, as the song says, this year gone by ain't been a piece of cake.  But neither is any year.  We are all lucky to have time to sit back (or sit up at the computer and have the opportunity to be in grad school, even if it means student loan debt too-long exams) and enjoy our trips around the sun.  One of my favorite parts of the song says "I'm just hanging on, while this ol' world keeps spinning.  And it's good to know it's out of my control.  If there's one thing that I've learned from all this living, is that it wouldn't change a thing if I let go."

I'm not planning on letting go--I'm fighting through exams, a dissertation, a sick dog, motherhood, military wife-life, and all that goes with it.  But, sometimes it is good to sit back and put things in perspective.  I'm not saying I won't have a major breakdown if I fail this exam--but the world will keep spinning if I do, or if I don't.  So, I'm working on enjoying the ride right now...and being thankful that I am in a place to pursue my dreams with my favorite people (and dogs) on earth, even if it comes with the ups and downs of success AND stress.

My life?

Well, it's been a while! I'm happy to report that I DID pass my last comp exam for my PhD...one more to go! I have still been busy working on school work during my summer. I've found some time to relax, too, but not too much time on the computer other than work.

But I LOVE this link-up, so here I am!  Prepare yourself for some memories--and check out the song if you ever have been/will go through a deployment or any other extended separation from a loved one.  I think it's one of the best!






I know it's a little far away, and I get nervous thinking about the future anyway, but I'm already concerned about our move...next year.  I will hopefully be a newly-hooded PhD in search of a job to pay off LOTS of student loans, we need to sell our house in an area where home values have fallen, K will have to change schools with our move to another state, and (the scariest) Buzz will be going back to a billet where he deploys.

These past couple of years have been quite an escape from that.  The Marine Corps life has never been foreign here--Buzz has still been around the world (including in Norway when my dad had his heart attack and in Africa when the doctors changed my endometriosis medicine too many times too quickly and my hormones nearly sent me into a nervous breakdown).  And he still works long hours and weekends.  But he is not gone for more than 6 weeks at a time.  And most nights he's home...and, no matter where he is, he's (relatively) safe.  And I know it's only a matter of days before we turn back into a together-family again.

That is a far cry from the life I remember at Camp Lejeune. 

Buzz's first deployment after K was born was bumped up about 6 months.  He left 2 days after her first birthday for training, came home for 2 weeks, and then was off to Iraq.  After 8 1/2 years in the Marine Corps at that time, I was no stranger to being separated from him.  But that first deployment was different--it was different with a child.  It was different because it was Iraq.  He had been to Afghanistan right after September 11, 2001 but that was before my married life.  I knew deployments were a whole new world, but I didn't know how it would slap me in the face so quickly and so harshly.

Buzz joined the Marine Corps in 1997--the world was a different place.  Prior to 2001, his "deployments" were pretty much cruises around the world where he had fun and did some work on the side.  Not the case anymore.

I look back on those days when K was young--2 deployments in 2 years.  I can't believe that was me living that life...that THOSE stories are a part of MY LIFE journey.  Who was that girl?  I don't know how I did it.  I know I have been married to 3 different men in the same body--he never comes back the same.  Nor am I the same when he comes back--K and I grow together and I change through the deployment process.  But the times DURING the actual deployment seem like a cross between a big blur and the most horrible feelings and emotions I can imagine.  Luckily, I had a strong group of friends to pull me through--friends who knew the same feelings and gave me strength to make it through the days.  Days were too big sometimes back then--sometimes it was just about making it through the hour. 

But I did it.

We made it.

Our family is so blessed and I never lose sight of that.

But now, I'm scared.  I'm already anxious about the emergence of those feelings again--and having to keep them under control to keep it together to be the mom (and wife) I need to be when my family needs me most. 

I'm not looking forward to it, but I do know it can be done--it will be done.  (There's no other choice.)  And, as usual, there is music to bring me through.  As I've said before, Buzz and I largely communicate through music when he is deployed.  This (below, "The Promise" by Tracy Chapman) was a song he shared with me on his pre-deployment leave before Iraq, round 1.  It brought me through...  So much that this (listen to the last verse of the song and it will make sense) was his welcome home sign on our house...where he arrived in the middle of the night 2 days before Thanksgiving, 2007.

So, as I try to shake off these fears and anxieties that are WAY premature, I will remember that at the end of these dark tunnels in our military family journey, there is a promise of warm hugs and happy welcome homes.

First hug of the year...April 2009, after Iraq deployment #2

Misunderstood

**Disclaimer:  I love my husband and all of the people who support me in my life.  I am a genuinely happy person, but sometimes, I just gotta let out the griping...and what better time then when I can

(And, my apologies...it's a long one--I'm making up for lost time.)

I've been MIA from the blogging world lately.  I literally have not had 10 minutes to sit down and write if it was not for school, teaching, exams, or a publication.  So, here I am.  I'm tired.  I'm tired of doing so much.  I'm tired of being so misunderstood.

I've mentioned before how I don't fit in--in military wife life OR in grad school life, because each is so different from the other and I'm juggling both sets of roles and responsibilities in two different arenas where neither side understands the other.  But it goes deeper than that.  I get so FRUSTRATED when people think I'm "just" a stay at home mom.  First of all, HELLO?!?  "JUST" does not belong in that phrase.  Mommyhood is the hardest (yet best and most rewarding) job on the planet and it gets under my skin when people take it upon themselves to say how that's not a big deal.  But I digress...

I AM a mom first and foremost.  This is the way I want it.  It is my favorite of my favorite roles.  But I am also many other things: 

-I am a military wife. That's not an easy job.  My husbands's job dictates not only his life but my daughter's and my lives.  He never has the option to put off his responsibilities--nope, it's always my commitments that have to give.  People MISUNDERSTAND a military wife's place in her family--and in the military structure itself.  It is hard to pursue anything for yourself in this life.  You never know what's around the corner, but you know YOU will be the one who must be flexible.  YOU will have to be the one to break plans and mold your life to his duties.  YOU will have to live in his shadow--no matter what I accomplish, he always "trumps" me in the eyes of others.  That's fine--he deserves it.  I have the utmost respect for our military and have seen first-hand how much they sacrifice and have witnessed their superhuman strengths and abilities.  BUT I wish that didn't have to negate MY accomplishments.  I work hard, too.  I keep this family together in his absence.  I, for all practical purposes single-handedly raise our amazing daughter.  And, this is fine with me because I love it.  I only wish I had more time away from other responsibilities to do more fun things with my little lady--but I feel bad for her missing out on a "normal" family life (whatever that is) and I feel bad for him missing out on fatherhood on a more regular basis.  I pay the bills--no, it's not MY income that pays the majority of the bills, but I am the one who make sure things get paid.  I clean the house, I mow the grass (sometimes, like today), I cook every meal that we eat at home.  I handle the house, the cars, the EVERYTHING that keeps us above water.  Does that not deserve some credit?

-I'm a teacher--a college instructor.  This is not an easy job, either.  It's very important but it involves a lot of work, time, and effort--and irritation at times.  It took a lot of hard work, education, and sacrifice to make it this far.  MY merits got me here.  But people don't seem to understand.  "Oh, you JUST teach online" they say.  Yes--but this is also A LOT of work.  Maybe more work than being IN the classroom--which I have also done and will be doing again come August.  Not to mention, I'm trying to work WHILE taking care of all of my at home duties--they don't shut off during "work" hours.  Or, "Oh, it's JUST community college" others might add.  What's up with "JUST" coming before all of the things that challenge and reward me as an individual?  Community college is no walk in the park.  Imagine a group of 30 people, all from very diverse backgrounds with a variety of goals, family situations, ages, etc. and try to come up with a course that can reach all of them.  Not the easiest thing on earth.

-I am a graduate student.  "Oh, you're in school?" people say with a strange tone as if to look down upon me.  Yes.  I am a 30 year old and I am STILL in school.  I am STILL in school because my husband (who I fully and wholeheartedly support) has a career that has taken me places and put me in situations that made it impossible to get this far without breaks in my education.  And when I say "this far" I mean I am working on my PhD.  A very, very small fraction of the population has such credentials.  I don't think I am better than anyone else and question this decision on a daily basis.  It's not for everyone, that's for sure!  But do I not deserve SOME recognition for these accomplishments?  Maybe people just don't understand.  I write--I publish--I work very, very hard to be the best that I can be and make a name for myself--a career for myself.

I'm also a daughter, granddaughter, niece, friend, and pet owner among other things.  I take everything in stride, though I do get down and complain sometimes (okay, a lot).  But don't we all deserve to just let it out sometimes?  To remind people that we are ALL unique in our own ways...and it is all relative. We only know what we have had the opportunity to experience.  I just feel so misunderstood so often...by so many people in my life.  My colleagues do not get the military experience, my military acquaintances don't get the grad school experience, my civilian acquaintances who haven't been to grad school don't get either. I get moved around to places that make getting the job I want, that I have worked so hard for in pursuing this PhD, nearly impossible.  But I go.  I follow.  I remain in the shadow hoping for the chance to be seen in a brighter light for MY accomplishments in all areas of my life.  Thankfully, I have an amazing group of friends and family who, while they may not understand me fully, are my rocks.  I'm so blessed to be surrounded by amazing people--especially on days like today.

I said a long time ago that I was going to stop being irritated and start being proud.  So, in my bloggity journal, this is that time when I got it out and turn over that new leaf.  So, go me!  I am so super proud that in a single day I spend time with the most amazing little girl on the planet (in my eyes), make our house (that we are blessed to have) clean and beautiful--including the yard, make sure our bills are paid, run a half mile farther than I have been running, work on a publication, prepare for an exam that will put me one step closer to PhD status, work on my dissertation project, and feed my family.  Our family lives a life with many battles and challenges, but that just makes us stronger.  We might not be "normal" by any standard, but the opporunities and experiences we are privy to on this journey are priceless.  As are the amazing people we meet along the way.  When I put it that way, I guess it doesn't matter who does or does not understand me from the inside out, as long as I can stay strong, keep pushing forward doing the right thing, and have my rocks to stablize me on this crazy journey.

Okay.  Griping done.  Stay tuned...when time permits, I'm still working on putting on my "happy blog face."

And, I'll leave you again with one of my favorite quotes that I break out when I feel like I'm pushing against a brick wall.  It reminds me that I must keep plugging along, even when the going gets tough.  Obstacles before me, beware!  :)

 “…the evident genius of the human spirit lies in the hard fact of life that we, like our dogs…[are] limited in all the important ways… We cannot do all that our powerful minds trick us into thinking we can. In a word, this is the mystery of being human. Our finest nature is not our ability to think and do. It is that we do and think as we do in spite of the obstacles…On average, the better ones among us continue to think and do what they can with no assurance that solutions will be found.”

--Charles Lemert

 

Can't no body take my pride--No hail gonna hold us down, oh no!

I'm linking up again with

for the "What's Your Song?" Link-up

I had already picked out this song in honor of my mom. She had her double knee replacement two days ago. She's one tough cookie! This is another one of my favorite songs for many reasons. It has brought me through deployments and trials of grad school. Beyond the metaphorical sense, however, I think it is quite appropriate for my mom in the physical sense--as she struggles to stand and move on to a better life.

BUT, now this has another meaning. First of all, my heart goes out to all of the people devastated by last night's storms. The people in Alabama, in particular. My family is so lucky that we are dealing with headaches--instead of heartaches. In the midst of a very stressful time (including mom mom's surgery, a stupid sinus infection and the end of another semester) we were touched by this devastating storm. Again, we're the lucky ones...

 Hail

 Our siding

 Hail in K's hand--an hour after the storm

 More (or less) of our siding

Hood of Buzz's car

My windshield

 Our driveway

 Our street

 Hail (last night)

 More hail (last night)

Our first step outside after the storm last night...steamy with a strange smell--very creepy

So, in pursuit of putting back the pieces to our possessions (which I am so very thankful that's all we have to do) in the midst of an already stressful time...in honor of my amazing mom...in honor of the people who are dealing with so much more than we are from this natural disaster...and for anyone who needs a pep talk, the words of this song ring clear and true.  STAND!

Deep Breaths and New Beginnings

I have been holding all of this in for the past 7 months.  I am still so very uncomfortable with the thought and I have stewed all day about whether to hit "Publish Post" or not...but I think it's time to pour my heart out.

Here's the Cliff's Notes version...

"She got the call today, One out of the gray.  And when the smoke cleared, it took her breath away.  She said she didn't believe, it could happen to me, I guess we're all one phone call from our knees..."  --Mat Kearney

The Call
September 15, 2010, approximately 8:30 am...I dropped K off at school and, for the first time, she cried when I was leaving.  It was hard.  I had a "female doctor" appointment and was heading home to shower and get ready for that lovely experience when my cell phone rang.  It was my mom--from her cell phone.  I was confused but so upset about the experience with K I didn't freak out or anything.  We made small talk for a few minutes before she told me my dad was in the hospital.  He had a heart attack the night before and they were awaiting results to know if surgery was needed or if some stints would do the job.  Buzz, of course, was in Norway.  I took a deep breath and pushed through my day.  I told my mom I would call her after my doctor appointment.  (Deep breath)  I called her from the parking lot and heard the news--he needed bypass surgery.  (Deep breath) I told her I was on my way home.  Luckily, I was able to get Buzz on the phone.

The Drive Home
Thank goodness for my amazing friends!  One took me to the airport to get Buzz's car (which is much easier to travel in with K and the dogs) and another friend picked K up from school.  I haphazardly packed and we loaded up for the four hour trip.  (Deep breath) Thankfully, we were not too far away.  But it was enough time to reflect on how all of our lives changed that day.  If you follow my awkwardness, you know that I have issues with emotions.  I HAVE them, but EXPRESSING them appropriately is not my forte.  I reflected on my love for my dad even though we don't often exchange heartfelt words.  I reflected on the strength it must have taken for my mom to drive him to the hospital, listen to the news, and call me.  (Deep breath)  I shared the news with K.  She was worried and concerned...she has my heart and soul.  (Deep breath)

The Visit
Seeing my dad in the hospital before his surgery was hard.  He is not one to be bed-ridden or slow down for long periods of time.  He never had any major medical problems before.  And he had to wait a week for surgery--they gave him blood-thinners at the hospital because he was not "showing" the severity of the blockage in his heart so they thought they would just put stints in.  Not the case.  (Deep breath)  They had to wait for all of that medicine to get out of his system before (deep breath) performing open heart surgery.  In true-my-dad-fashion, he was actually able to go home for the weekend between the admission to the hospital and the surgery.  I think this was good for everyone.

The Surgery
(Deep breath) The day arrived.  Luckily, Buzz was able to get home from Norway.  I estimate he arrived at my parents' house at approximately the same time my dad was going in to surgery.  When I woke up that morning I kept repeating to myself "Deep breath.  New beginnings.  Have faith in others.  Repeat."  This was all I could do to calm my mind knowing (deep breath) that my dad's heart had stopped and a machine was breathing for him while they performed (deep breath) what would turn out to be quintuple bypass surgery.  (Deep breath)  The surgery took between 4 and 5 hours.

The Walk
My mom and my aunt sat at the hospital during the entire surgery.  My mom, bless her heart, had stayed every night with him at the hospital.  And my dear, dear aunt was there for her from the time they took my dad to pre-op until the afternoon after the walk.  I made it for about the last hour or so of the surgery.  I was having a very hard time thinking of the whole stopping of the heart thing.  We made small-talk--my mom held it together very well.  My mom was facing the walkway and she stopped mid-sentence and her whole face changed.  I turned around and it was the heart surgeon, standing at the other end of the room.  He was probably about 30 feet away but as he slowly walked across the room with no expression on his face, it felt like the walk took 10 minutes.  Then, he stood there, still expressionless in front of us--and finally told us things went well, and he bypassed 5 arteries.  (Deep breaths)  The tears started to flow from my mom.  I have never wanted to cry so bad in my whole life and been able to keep it in.  (Deep breath)  My mom was soon able to go see him in recovery.  (I couldn't go because I had a sinus infection...but I did see him the day after--it was tough.)  (Deep breath)  A new life had begun...and there was a long journey ahead.

Deep Breaths
I had to remember to breathe.  To keep myself together and calm.  I still do.

New Beginnings
My dad gets a second chance.  I get a second chance.  My mom gets a second chance.  It is an ongoing process, but so far, so good.  My dad's health is amazing.  He is healthier than he has been in years.  He looks stellar.  I am never, ever going to take any part of any second with a loved one for granted.  Less than 2 months after my dad's heart attack, my best friend's dad had a heart attack--and did not make it.  My mother-in-law and father-in-law died young of heart disease, 58 and 64, respectively.  We are the lucky ones.  The pain was bad for my dad.  I know it had to be tough.  He was strong but I can't begin to imagine the physical pain.  I remember telling my mom a line I heard on Grey's Anatomy (I know, but I love that show)--This was healing pain.  This means we won.  They have had many hurdles to overcome and have faced each of them with strength and have overcome every obstacle in their path.  They both are amazing.  Did I mention, this means we won?

Have Faith in Others
This is hard for me.  As a control-freak, I don't like to rely on others to get anything done.  But in this case, it was not about me.  I had to have faith that other human beings would come through--that the surgeon's hands would work magic; that my dad would move forward and make the healthy choices he needed to make.  They did.  We won.

Moving Forward
My mom was scheduled for a double knee replacement 2 weeks after my dad's heart attack.  Obviously, that got postponed.  Next week, she will have the surgery.  I'm scared of surgery--all surgery.  But I am working to turn my perception--this life-changing event spilled past my dad.  My mom is healthier--she eats heart-healthy now, too, which is good for the whole body.  Her perspective on life has changed, too, I believe.  I'm ready for another new beginning for her.  She has struggled her whole life just to walk.  I am working now to (deep breath) look past the physical and emotional toll this will take on her.  I am looking to another new beginning--where my mom can walk with my dad (he walks most every day now--he's so amazing) and where she can go to the zoo with K and me.  Where she can park her car and make it to the store, work, wherever pain-free.  But (deep breath) I must also have faith in others, again.  I do have faith that she will do what she needs to do and push through the pain until that goes away and the pain-free future, her next new beginning, takes hold.  I am working to have faith that the surgeon will perform his best surgery yet.  I must put the past emotional toll of my dad's ordeal behind me.  We won.  I am working to be optimistic.  I am scared of the pain my mom will endure but I am hopeful for all that she can do once she has working knees.  (Deep breath)  I must breathe through until the next win is on the books.  (Deep breath)

My Soundtrack (and double link-up): The Better Ones Among Us

I am on my way out-of-town (again) for more dissertation research--which is another post (or 10) for another time.  But, the hotel where we stay has a very slow Internet connection, so I am going to try and get my song for the link up with Goodnight Moon up and running so I just need to link from the hotel.  I'm also linking up for the first time with Things I Can't Say for "Pour Your Heart Out" (which, by the way, I can't wait to do again).  Luckily, this post fits with both link ups this week--so I'm going to double-dip (hope that's okay) since I am so busy with work right now.  So, here it is...



(The video is a must-watch!  Great song with a great video message!)

My husband and I "communicate" through music while he is deployed. He sends me CDs with playlists he's made for me and I send him songs on the computer. He shared this song with me during his first deployment. (I could write a BOOK on the meaning of this song to HIM, but that's not my point here.)

As I continue down this tough, often frustrating journey of PhD school alongside everything else I am attempting do to do "well," I find myself taking on A LOT.  My first and foremost goal in my life is to be a good mom--which also includes being a good wife.  And this crazy decision to go back to school is related to that first goal...My goal with pursuing my chosen career path is twofold.  I LOVE teaching and think that having a job teaching at a higher level will make me happier and, thus a better mom.  But the research aspect is of importance, too.  There is so much sadness and suffering in the world that is really unnecessary.  Through my research, I hope to make a difference.  I know any difference I am lucky enough to make will be a small one.  But changing one life is an important change.  I want to help--I want to help give a voice to those who ordinarily don't have that luxury and I also want to help open opportunities for them.  As I have mentioned before, so much of my work is depressing.  I am working to bring POSITIVE RESULTS to a field where much of what we read and hear about is negative.  It's a tough process.  One of my favorite quotes comes from a sociologist/theorist: 

“…the evident genius of the human spirit lies in the hard fact of life that we, like our dogs…[are] limited in all the important ways… We cannot do all that our powerful minds trick us into thinking we can. In a word, this is the mystery of being human. Our finest nature is not our ability to think and do. It is that we do and think as we do in spite of the obstacles…On average, the better ones among us continue to think and do what they can with no assurance that solutions will be found.” --Charles Lemert


This is my life.  I'm working to be one of "the better ones among us."  I can't be sure (or even confident sometimes) that I am going to be a part of any meaningful solution to bring real change to better even a small portion of the world.  It sucks...sometimes it sucks more than other times.  I'm limited, but I don't think these are valid excuses NOT to keep trying. 

I used to want to change the whole world.  But, as this song recognizes, that's truly more than I can handle.  (And it drives me crazy just to think about it, so trying to work toward an unrealistic goal is a little insane.)  So, I'm attempting to use my skills, strengths, lucky opportunities, and blessed circumstances to reach beyond myself...and try to bring my share.

Lucky and Lazy

I'm back to my computer addiction after a week-long vacation. That "vacation" was in Jacksonville, NC sandwiched between two weekend trips to Roanoke, VA--two places I never thought could be vacation spots. For the record, this was the first vacation (other than trips to Roanoke) that we have taken since K was born--and it was a great vacation! I am always saying I am in need of friends. This week showed me that I still have them out there--just dispersed places other than Knoxville!

Anyway, part of my agreement with myself was that I wouldn't do anything too productive this past week. I had to grade, but I even slacked on that a little, thanks to Blackboard flaking out some of the time. Now I am back to my power reading before school (for me) starts, I need to finish a paper to submit for publication, and I need to figure out a budget--which is difficult to do with the financial burden of school and trying to find good (no, great) childcare--which I will NOT skimp on!

In my "off" time, I have been doing a lot of thinking about why I want to do this--I mean, seriously, why would anyone (who has already been in school for 2 years PAST college) want to go back to school for an additional 4 years (at least) filled with stress and an insane amount of reading, writing, etc. on top of it? (And I am the person who finished my BA early because I wanted to get out of school so bad.) All of this on top of having to spend time away from the one person who means more to you than anything you could ever imagine? I think I have come up with an answer--I'm lazy. I know, not the conventional answer you would expect to those questions, right? I don't mean lazy in the I really never do ANYTHING sense, I mean lazy in the paid work sense.

I am lazy--and I am going to work my ass off for the next 4 years while incurring an insane amount of student loans so I can eventually make some money being lazy. Few things in this world bring me pure joy--my daughter, my husband, my dogs (my family in general). But also, I love sociology. I love learning. I enjoy teaching (most of the time). Although it can get stressful, "doing sociology" has never felt like "real" work to me. I like it. Among many other benefits, it gives me an outlet for my to use my overthinking brain for something other than self destruction. :) And I like teaching because it gives me a chance to bring some of this positive learning into other people's lives...and it gives me lots of autonomy. I don't like being told what to do--teaching gives me flexibility in my "work" activities. Again, teaching doesn't really feel like work to me.

So I am going back to school in order to be an authority in my field, which will allow me to teach at higher levels. Assuming I make it to my goal of becoming a PhD, teaching will allow me a lot of things that will help in my pursuit of laziness. I can have summers off and winter breaks will be here to stay--which will allow me more mommy time. Don't get me wrong, I know there is a lot of "work" to be done during semesters and there will be researching to do even during my "breaks." But, again, it doesn't feel like work to me--and it's done on MY time. I will be a happier person which will help me be a better mom and wife--and individual.

I am truly a lucky, LUCKY lady to have this opportunity to pursue my dreams of laziness. I am so fortunate to have an amazing daughter who adapts relatively easily to new people and situations. I am so thankful for a husband whose career (paycheck) allows me the opportunity to do this without the necessity of getting over my head in paid work responsibilities. (Don't get me wrong, the budget issue is still an issue, but we have food on the table, a roof over our heads, cars to drive, and lots of extras in our lives. And, also don't get me wrong, I often think his work SUCKS and I hate that it takes him away from our family for extended periods of time--but it's what he wants to do and it makes him happy--not to mention he makes me proud.) And I am so blessed to have that husband who is supportive of me and my goals. He does tell me that he is doing this for selfish reasons--that I will one day be his "sugar momma" and he can play golf and drink beer all day. (I guess laziness goals run in our household.) I am fine with that. :)

So these next couple of weeks, I am going to enjoy my opportunity to truly be lazy. Then, I am going to work as hard as I can in all areas of my life (and probably hate that life and question my decision to go back to school on a regular basis) so that I can be "Dr. Beth" one day--which will allow me to open the world of education and sociology to others while keeping up my lazy habits. I am such a lucky girl! :)