Downward

I'll pick you up. 

Your tiny tears.

Your chubby cheeks.

Glistening. 

I'll hold you.

Rock and sway.

I'll sing. 

Offer my breast.

Later, I will offer band-aids.

Kiss.

Magic touches.

Made up words.

I'll love you. 

Soothe you.

But you'll have to pick yourself up.

Someday.

You'll have to learn to lift your legs.

You'll be angry.

Because I won't carry you.

But I can't.

And someday, you'll understand. 

Little People, Big Falls

When I first had my son, I was scared I would drop him. Like some entity would take over my body and force me to let go of his tiny body and watch him fall to the floor. Lucky for me, this never happened. He did squirm out the bottom of a stroller once (it was more of a carriage with no leg holes, just an open space), while my back was turned for what couldn't have been more that 2 seconds. He hit my moms tile foyer floor and I am pretty sure I cried more than he did.

As a toddler he ran into and fell over any number of things. Giant purple forehead knots were par for the course. Sometimes I had irrational fears that he would be that one kid, you know the one you hear about every now and then, who got a seemingly innocent bump on the head and then died of a brain bleed a few hours later. Again, this never happened.

Getting older he got a little less clumsy, and falls became less frequent. At least, the skinned knees, bumped heads kind. Physically falling down is less likely the more sturdy you become on your feet, but mentally and emotionally, the sturdier you are on your feet, the more life you experience and with that comes a whole new sort of tripping, falling and bumping; a sort that takes a much larger toll than bloody palms or goose egged noggins.

First Real Fall #1 - Diagnosis OCD/Generalized Anxiety

Jesiah was around 5 when he started obsessing over things . He would have a thought that he considered "bad" and rather than let it pass over his psyche like most kids or people, he sat in it. Stuck on it. Allowing that one thought to saturate his mind (obsession). This would lead to anxiousness, a feeling that something was wrong with him and the helpless desire to turn whatever the thought was off. The only thing that seemed to help him was to tell me what he was thinking (compulsion). Every. Single. Time. So this translated to a constant dialog between myself and my 5 year old where I was trying to explain to him that it was okay to have a thought he didn't like, that it is what you DO with the thought, and him in no way understanding that he was okay. That it was all okay. I am sure you can imagine how draining this was for both of us.

So we put him in play therapy, which I didn't ever really understand, but it worked. He figured out how to work through stuff with the help of a very eccentric middle aged woman and her one room office full of toys from up to 6 decades ago. After every session she would explain to me what was going on in his little brain, all of which was learned by watching him create kingdoms with turtle knights riding mythical creatures and hedgehog sisters eating pretend spaghetti. Like I said, I never understood it but it helped so we drove the hour out of town once a week for a year to see her. The diagnosis was as stated above and this wouldn't be the last time it reared its ugly head, in fact it really was only the beginning, but it was proof that he could and would continue to work through it without any sort of medical treatment.

First Real Fall #2- Not Meeting Academic Standards

Jesiah was late to do everything. The kid didn't talk till he was 3. At the end of his kindergarten year we were given the option to either move him on or keep him back. His teacher said she wasn't sure he would do terribly in the first grade, but she also knew he was not meeting criteria to not struggle. We decided the best thing was to move him up and see how he did. He did not do well. His kindergarten teachers failed to fully explain exactly how far he was behind. Going into the first grade he barely knew his alphabet and didn't understand anything about phonetic sounds. Immediately the school let us know he would need to be in whatever program they offered for kids in his situation which was less than a few hours a week. I decided the only way to catch him up was to home school him for that year. He was reading within the first week being home, but we were both also doing a lot of crying and yelling at each other trying to figure out what we were doing. I never did figure out the mom/teacher combo and it was certainly to his detriment. Hardest. 9 Months. Ever- in the mom department. But, he got it and went into second grade no problemo. He still struggles with difficult concepts and it does take him longer to catch on to certain things, but again, his resiliency proved more than adequate and he is a pretty average 5th grader academically speaking.

First Real Fall #3- Bullies and Stuff

My kid is eccentric. He wanted both his ears pierced at 5 and has on his own accord rocked a really tall mohawk in numerous colors on numerous occasions. He is a clown, a total goon with questionably inappropriate dance skills. He isn't uber athletic, doesn't care too much for professional sports, but kills it in the drama department. All that to say, he has been, for most of his boy/kid life, a bit of an easy target. We have had to go to the school admin at least once every year since 2nd grade because of the word "gay". At one point there was physical violence against him on the play ground. He has had to ask what the word "fag" means and come home from school crying more times than I can count. And like I said, he is only a 5th grader. Unfortunately for potential friends, he has a hard time making friends. He is pretty sensitive and does seem to attract people who take advantage of that. Don't get me wrong, he can be stubborn and has said some mean things to people every now and then, but generally the elementary school world is really missing out on the amazingness that is Jesiah Brady. Realizing this stuff might be a little more for him than what the average kid is dealing with we got him into his second round of therapy, this time to help with social skills and what not. He was blessed to end up with one the most kind and amazing people I have ever met, who adored him and the hour she spent with him every week for another year, and will always have a special place in my heart. Again, this kid at 10 has proved resilient in a way that blows my mind.

Big falls can happen to little people. Don't make them feel like what they think is HUGE isn't, and don't let them stay down.

Appx.8 in the Grandparent Department.

The most difficult part about being a military family is never knowing where you will end up. I remember when I first got married it seemed so exciting, the idea that every 4 years we would get to go somewhere new. I spent most of high school career jumping from school to school simply because I never wanted to stay any one place too long. Admittedly, I have for most of my life been a bit of a "runner". I feel overwhelmed or bored and just go somewhere else. Not a healthy way to handle business. I lived in the same home from around 3 to 9, but at 9 I not only moved to a new house, but a new country. From there we hopped from house to house a handful of times and then eventually back to the states and into a house that would be my mom and step-dads home till I got married. I moved out early and then went back and then out and then back- you see the pattern. All of this to say I don't feel like I can blame some constant shifting of life on my becoming a runner. Maybe you are reading this and live in the same city you grew up in with your parents in your childhood home right down the street and you think my story certainly has the potential to cause a runner. Maybe you are right, I am sure I don't know, what I DO know is the constant moving of a military lifestyle was greatly appealing to me.

So here I am 11 years and 3 states later and ALL I WANT IN THE WORLD IS TO GO HOME. The moving has been an experience. We have made some AMAZING friends and had both great years and less than great years. There is real heartbreak though. The heartbreak is that aside from my mom and her husband, who we were stationed near for 4 years, my kids haven't had to opportunity to really know their grandparents. Both fortunately and unfortunately, they just so happen to have REALLY AMAZING grandparents.

Our family is what some people would think of as something along the lines of "The New American Family". I don't really like that term, but I say it because both my dad and my husbands mom are in same sex relationships. My mom is remarried and my husbands dad is currently unmarried, but he was married and even she was great. Every man and woman my kids could technically call grandma/pa is really a unique, loving, self sacrificing, awesome human who certainly has the ability to pour greatly into the lives of my kids.

A couple weeks in the summer is only a couple weeks in the summer. All of these people work very hard and I don't know the last time you looked at airfare, but it is OUTRAGEOUS (especially flying all the way across the country). Because of work and money and lack of much vacation we simply don't see each other nearly as often as any of us would like which means my kids are MISSING OUT.

They are missing out on my dads never ending patience and desire to sit on the floor with them for hours building blocks or chasing butterflies. They are missing his partner Clays contagious positive outlook and motivation to get out and see the world. They are missing out on their Mimi Trina's creativity and the ability she has to see amazing potential in less than amazing things. They are missing out on their Yaya Stacy's work ethic, contagious laugh and stellar sense of humor. They are missing out on their grandpa John's laid back, good timing, never ending bucket of car knowledge.

Despite all this missing out- we as a family have been BEYOND BLESSED to have my mom and step-dad David within reach these past 7 years. They have been the sort of grandparents that everyone hopes thier kids will get to have. They are selfless, unconditionally loving, mountain moving, candy fountains and my kids adore them. I have never seen love so blatant as I have been able to witness watching these two with my children.

Lucky for us, we ARE headed home in a few months and I will have the opportunity to witness not only that crazy love, but also all the little things everyone has to bring to the table, get to work inside my kids. You don't get to pick your family, and you barely get to pick your in-laws so I consider myself BLESSED TO DEATH to have so much of what I desire and enjoy on both sides of that fence.

Grandma.

My kids are lucky to have two amazing, yet very different, grandmothers. And from September 2013-present, their grandmothers have taken a very active role in their lives.

In September 2013, I left. I was gone basically the whole year. Dave was alone and he was the sole caretaker and guardian. During this time, my mom and his mom stepped up admirably. 

They babysat, sent him home with endless leftovers, and supported him in any way that they could. I can't speak for Dave, but I will never forget what they did for him and for my kids. 

Grandmas are amazing. They fill a role that no one else can and they give a brand of unconditional, self-sacrificing love that even mothers can't quite achieve. They do this while not having the same rights and privileges that parents do and usually when they're at an age where they've earned the right to some rest. 

My mother in law, in particular, still works full time and she's back in colleges. And she still had time to pick up the ball when I dropped its my own mother, while retired, has a ton of health problems and she takes care of her own mother. 

I can't imagine that helping Dave last year was easy. Moreover, I can't imagine it's been easy to say goodbye to the boys and watch me step back into their lives. I won't pretend to know the hearts of these two women. I won't pretend to understand them. I don't. I've never been able to understand either of them. But I love them. 

I love them because of the women that they are and the women that they've helped me to become. Both of them have had a profound influence on my adulthood and my sobriety. But most of all, I love them for loving my boys when I failed them. I love them for holding my family and then handing them back to me, graciously. 

There's no love like the love of a grandmother. 

But By Grace Your Husband Is Free.

Disclaimer: You will either love this or hate it. I don't know what to tell you

Men are a strange sort. I don't claim to understand much more than they mostly just need food, sex and to be appreciated. I said strange, not complicated. Problem is, Disney isn't creating a Prince Charming who mostly just eats, tinkers with whatever hobby suits him, looks for booty as often as he can get it and then wants his Princess to swoon when he performs some basic task that is outside of his interest, (this task is generally something his Princess does on any given day without any expectation of praise). Don't get me wrong, men are of crucial importance both in a relationship and in the world and there isn't anything wrong with their general simplicity, and all that comes along with it. I thank God that my husband is pretty basic. If he wasn't I would have no one to bring me down from whatever ledge I land on at any given moment. Us women love ledges.

So that's it?

No. Of course not. I am not NEARLY that short winded. There is a problem.

There is always a problem.

The problem is that Disney isn't drawing a real Prince and niether is any other source of information as to what men, or husbands, should be. The Bible has some pretty legit stuff to say about it. Something along the lines of, "Men love your wives as Christ loves the church..." (Which is a REALLY heavy statement). It goes on to say, "Women submit to your husbands..." Women usually have no problem with that first part but then get really panty twisted about the rest because "How totally sexist of God..."

First off, don't miss the point. If your husband was really working to love you as Christ loves the church, (which in case you are wondering is in complete selflessness and ultimate sacrifice), it would be second nature to submit to him. You would WANT to submit to Him because you would know everything he did, everything he asks, is in your best interest. SO, by bucking submission you would really just be bucking what is best for you.

Unfortunately, so many of us don't feel as though our husbands are working to love us that way. Maybe our husbands have taken the second part of that scripture and totally taken advantage of it (many men have and do, no doubt). Maybe our husbands don't even believe the Bible. Maybe they just don't care to work that hard at selflessness whether they believe in God or not. Maybe WE don't even understand selflessness but expect it from them.

Here is the thing.

What I said about men up top, about how they really just want food (to be taken care of in a sense), sex (to feel wanted) and to be appreciated (in their minds they really are trying even if you don't see it that way)- I FULLY BELIEVE THIS. If you have issue with this theory, stop reading cause you just aren't going to like where I am going. Women are always looking for what is generally an unrealistic expectation. We want someone whose like, a bad boy, but like, loves babies and holds doors open, but like works really hard and also totally puts his life on hold at all times to engage us at our every whim. We want a movie character. The same can be said for dudes. They want some timeless beautiful bright eyed epitome of woman with no need to ask where he is going or how long he will be, may or may not want to have babies ever and just so happens to love whatever team/car/beer he is into and cannot keep her hands off him. Again, the expectation is RIDICULOUS.

We expect.

Culture tells us we should have all kinds of expectations. Big ones. And I think some of this is okay, when you are dating in particular. You really can weed out all sorts of what you would find to be "no thank yous" by having genuine deal breakers in terms of a partner. Thus, the importance of ACTUALLY dating and getting to know someone and what they believe and how their mind works, rather than just having sex with whatever hot guy/girl rolls your way and hoping that something else will click too. However, if you don't do this....and even if you do, and you end up married and appalled that your husband/wife just isn't up to par....

CHECK YOURSELF.

The answer is always "Lord change ME." It is UNFAIR. I FREAKING KNOW. I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW- YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME I FREAKING KNOW. Life is unfair. But something really cool happens when you start working on you rather than trying to fix other people or sit bitterly waiting on them to fix themselves....YOU ACTUALLY GROW AND CHANGE, which in turn, by way of shifting your focus, makes everyone else less monstrous. When you start practicing GRACE and stop getting pissed because your husband simply cannot take out the trash without being told, or better yet drinks a few more beers than YOU would prefer on a more regular basis than YOU think is necessary, then you can appreciate what he DOES do, enjoy that he is simply present, and maybe even WANT to have sex regularly. Working on yourself, when God is part of the equation, cannot be separated from extending the same grace to others that has been so lavishly and completely extended to you.

Because chances are, YOU, girlfriend, are not up to par either. You miss the mark. You get pissy for no reason and then tell him nothing is wrong and then get mad because he didn't ask again after the first time. And even if you aren't that way, as good a wife as you could EVER be, you will still fall short, not only because he probably has a lifetime of unrealistic expectations too, but also because YOU ARE HUMAN.

Husbands are men. Men are human. The secret to marriage is "Lord change ME."

I just fixed your life. For free.

You're welcome.

PS. I get that not everyone understands or agrees with this "grace" thing or cares to adopt that "life is unfair therefor bloom where you are planted" stuff. Maybe you don't care about maintaining a marriage or relationship and that is totally your prerogative but clearly this blog is not for you and that does not make you any less anything as far as I am concerned.

Grace

I'm sorry.

Repeated.

I failed. 

Again and again

I ran away.

I didn't stay,

Didn't fight for you.

You were worth it.

So was I.

We were worth it.

The beginning and middle were beautiful.

There were laughter and dancing.

And lots of costumes.

The end was ugly. 

Booze soaked.

Covered in stains.

Slurred and blurred.

Empty and soiled.

We could have had today.

Waking up. 

Eyes Clear.

We could've had the daytime.

The clean.

The pretty.

Laughter would have reemerged.

But we don't.

We have friendship.

Memories.

Anger.

Resentment.

Entitlement. 

We have possibility. 

We can close our eyes.

We can just be.

Separately. 

Drift

Your eyes. 

Mine.

Your body. 

Mine.

The lashes. 

The fingers. 

The breath.

The darkness.

Together.

We sleep.

Drift.

And I promise to be

Where you are. 

Adrift or alert.

Forever.

Us.