Ah…This Navy Life…

Twenty-one years.  That’s how long my husband has been a sailor in the United States Navy.  It’s a fact we’re proud of and humbled by.  I have been involved in all of those years.  We’ve only been married for not even eighteen years yet, but we’ve known each other for over thirty years.  We were friends when he joined out of high school and now we’re husband and wife and parents to three children.

Le sigh…

Twenty-one years of this Navy life and it’s been…everything.  From the availability of leave determining when we could get married to the realization that our 14-year-old has lived in seven different homes, not including the ten months we spent in our travel trailer.  Our adult lives and the only lives our children have ever known have been this Navy life.

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Between Innocence and Confidence

I wrote this post about the honesty of children, including a tale about my own sweet innocence.  In it I told you another story about how as an adult I confidently told my daughter that I am beautiful.  It occurred to me that you might start to think about that and think, “Well, ain’t she special…just living a charmed life over there behind her computer screen.”

Yes, I am special.  Yes, my life is good.  But, that hasn’t always been the case.  And I feel it’s important to say that.  I think it’s important for you to know that I struggled with things just like most of you, that I still do.  As a friend of mine said one time, “People only show their A roll online.  There’s plenty of B roll on the cutting room floor.”  I want you to know that I have a B roll.  And all those cutting room scraps are the stories that brought me from the innocence of my childhood to my current confidence.  Some of those stories are today’s tales…

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Honesty

Have you ever seen a toddler pat his mama’s belly like a drum?  What did you think?  What was her reaction?  Was anyone else around, and, if so, what did they do?

Why do I ask?  Well, I’ll tell you, but first, a couple of stories.  When I was little and sitting with my Grandmother I patted her and said something about her being fat or having fat or something.  I was probably four or five years old and I don’t remember exactly what I said.  I do remember my mother’s shocked reaction.  “I’m so sorry, Mom.  Annie we don’t call people fat!  It’s not nice to talk about people like that!”  I think she would have ushered me out of there right then as embarrassed as she was, but then Grandma smiled down at me and said, “It’s okay.  I do have fat on my belly.  She was just being honest.”

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Need a Life Jacket?

If you think parenting is rough work, I’ve got good news.  You’re not alone!

Yup, that’s my good news.  You might have been hoping for some revelation that would make raising children less exhausting.  Perhaps you thought I’d have some wisdom to impart that would leave you feeling wiser and more capable.  Maybe you feel like you’re drowning sometimes and were hoping I could through you something floaty.  But this is all I’ve got.  However, maybe it’s exactly the bouy you need.

Let’s think about it for a minute…this little wise revelation.  I mean, knowing you’re not solely responsible for these little bundles of joy right up until they move out (at 18, right? wink, wink) has to relieve a little of the pressure.  Right?  Not all of it, mind you, but some.  And really, let’s be honest, you are on the hook for some responsibility for your offspring….can’t pawn it all off on others.  But you are 100% NOT in this alone.  And that is good news.

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Commenting Drama

Yesterday social media was fired up.  It gets that way sometimes.  Everyone gets their feathers ruffled and decides the best way to let off steam is to post about it online.  Sometimes, when that happens, I get my feathers ruffled and write about it here.

Last night I went to sleep having gotten lots of feelings and thoughts out.  When I woke up this morning I found myself thinking about the days before online vent sessions.

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Song Commentary

All our children enjoy commenting on song lyrics…things they find funny or awful or deserving of some other comment.  Sam Hunt’s country hit Body Like a Back Road is a favorite to pick apart.  The other day it was on while Gracie and I were in the car and she commentated the whole song.  I thought you’d all appreciate her wisdom and sarcasm.

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Dear Doubt

Dear Doubt,

I’m not sure where to start with you, exactly.  I’ve been trying to figure out if you deserve to know my rationale or something.  But I think a clear and direct route might be the best.

You’re being kicked out, getting the boot, leaving.  And I don’t even care if the door hits you in the ass on the way out.

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