The Women Who Raised Me.

It hit me like a ton of bricks when my mom told me that today is Ms. Pat's birthday.  In an instant I was excited and then I remembered that she's not here for me to call.  We lost her almost 2 years ago.  As I turned this over in my head a flood of childhood memories rushed to the forefront of my mind and I began to smile.  I smiled for the joy and love that she brought to my life.  I smiled for the hindsight that allows me to appreciate all of the things she taught me.
I was a child blessed to be raised by a handful of women.  This was not because my own mother wasn't around, but because, living far from either family, we had embraced and loved some very dear people as our family.  They welcomed us in and called us their own.  We did likewise.
I remember birthday parties, with amazing cakes.  There were Sunday dinners that were not served until 2, but eaten on fine china with everyone still in their Sunday best.  She took me to fancy lunches and I ordered hot tea.  Trips to the store to pick out a proper handbag for an occasion and hand bags are never given empty.  Ladies are graceful, polite and kind, no matter what kind of society you live in,  and Ms. Pat was always a lady.  She would open her home to anyone and could entertain in a minute.  No matter who came for dinner, or a visit, they were treated like royalty.  She never did anything half-way, if it wasn't worth doing well, it wasn't worth doing.
She gave me my first job when I was about 7 years old.  I wanted a new doll and so she hired me to work for her at the bank.  I got dressed up in my Sunday best and went to work for the day.  I punched in on the time clock and even got a coke break.  After my day of work I opened a savings account and "magically" the money for my doll was there.
She taught me how to make sugar cookies for any occassion.  She showed me the appropriate way to give a gift.  She sang lullabies.  Most of all she loved, she loved me, my sister and my parents like she loved her own family.
As I thought about my week I realized the number of things I had done, just this week, because she showed me how.  The reason I can (and love to) entertain in an instant, the reason I am always pulling out the nice dishes, the reason I extend a hand of friendship to those around me is because she showed me how.  The reason I create family out of friends, the reason I obsess about being appropriately dressed, the reason I wrap Christmas presents just so, the reason I love a fancy dinner, the reason I want to take my daughter to tea, the reason I want her to understand the grace and kindness that comes with being a real lady, the reason I sing lullabies to my babies is because Pat Sease is one of the women who raised me.

I just adore this picture of Ms. Pat with Collin.  What a precious moment this was for the woman who rocked me and my sister to have the time to rock my son.

 

It's a Bouncey Kind of Day

After a rainy day of house cleaning both kiddos were anxious to get out and DO something, other than help me clean of course.  We have begun making wonderful friends here in Maryland and were so excited to get an invitation to go to Jumpyard.  Jumpyard is Lexington Park's version of Monkey Joe's.

 Legare was hesitant at first, until she realized she could jump.  The boys were moving so fast we could hardly snap a picture.  This is actually the only one we got.  They had a blast though and ran off a ton of energy.

Legare even bounced on the entrance.  Then, of course, invited her new friend to join her.

But after a few hours everyone was getting tired.  Both girls were asking for naps.  THAT makes for a succesful day.  Big thanks to the Plitsch family for inviting us along.

I am a runner...

Not because I love to run, but because I love the way running makes me feel.
Not because I run every day, but because I run more days than I don't.
Not because I always want to run, but because I do anyways.
Not because I run races, but because I race against myself
Not because I am fast, but because I push myself to be a little better each time.
Not because my time always improves, but because I'm successful whether or not it does
Not because I run a long distance, but because I know I can go just a little further, and sometimes I do.
Not because I am graceful while running, but because I don't care what it looks like.
Not because I am in great shape, but because I want to be in better shape.
Not because I want to look like I'm 20, but because I want to be here when my children are
Not because I've been running my whole life, but because I made the decision, in my thirties, to push myself beyond what I ever imagined I could accomplish physcially...I AM A RUNNER...

Home Is Where The Heart Is

And my heart now resides in Maryland

Change of address notes to follow.

Why We Settle...

We have been in the Marine Corps for almost 10 years and in that time we have moved 7 times, 6 of which were in the first 3 years (believe me when I tell you there are women who have moved more and some with less time between duty stations).  So, I have had a lot of time to contemplate the pros and cons of unpacking and settling, particularly when I know another move is inevitable, and often only a short time away.

 

One of the beautiful things about military life is that someone has been there, done that and is glad to share her experience and wisdom.  Much of what I do to embrace, enjoy and thrive in this crazy lifestyle has come on the recommendation of a dear friend, an acquaintance and sometimes a perfect stranger.  Years ago someone told me to unpack the boxes.  It sounded ludicrous.  We were leaving in 6 months.  Why on earth would I unpack an entire house, bother hanging anything on the walls if I was just going to have to do it all over again a few months later?!?!  She had to be crazy.  So, I didn't unpack...for a few weeks. 

I soon realized that it felt as if the walls were closing in.  I was so tired of looking at boxes, not to mention the "unsettled" feeling that it left.  It made me grumpy, and it didn't create much of a "home" feeling for myself or Robert.  So, with some reluctance I unpacked the boxes, hung pictures on the wall and decorated.  We had our first home.  A few months later I would repeat it again, and again, and again.  The repetition became fun.  It was an adventure to find the perfect place for everything and to turn a house into a home.  It allowed us to have a "home" no matter where we were, or how long we were going to be there.  It gave us a safe haven to return to at the end of the day, and a place we knew was ours.

After 6 years in the same home we found ourselves moving again.  Two short days after the arrival of our household goods and the start of the settling, we were notified that base housing was available and we'd be moving again in a month.  Despite the quick turnaround, and after much contemplation,  we decided to settle anyway.  At least for the month this was going to be our home.  We need to be comfortable, have access to our "things" and feel settled...for everyone's mental well being :)

So, we settle...and, in a month, when the packers load it up and move it to a house on the other side of town, we'll settle again and call that place home.

 

A Farewell to Jacksonville

They say home is where the heart is, and I believe them.  I believe that wherever my family is I can be "home."  What they fail to mention is that each place you call home steals a piece of your heart.  As we prepare to bid farewell to the town that has been our home for nearly 7 years I realize that amidst the excitement of this new adventure there is great sadness.
I am not an emotional person...ok...so, I'm a very emotional person and just don't like to be.  As I run errands, attend church, spend time with friends and visit with my neighbors I leave each person the same I always have, as if  I'm going to see them tomorrow.  I don't like long extended good-byes, they make me cry.  I don't like to cry, so I don't want to say good-bye.  I realize, as the reality of my departure sets in, that I've been mysteriously absent when many of my friends have bid farewell.  Now I am the one bidding farewell and there is no escaping it.
7 years ago Jacksonville (and her people) opened her arms to a young couple. She offered the first opportunity to make a home for longer than a 6 month period.  She has seen us grow-up, change careers, buy our first house and make a home of our own.  She has witnessed the birth of 2 children, 3 deployments, 3 homecomings and a multitude of celebrations as well as some heartache.  She has taken the abuse that many small towns receive, "there's not enough stores," "oh, if we only lived somewhere else we could do ____," "I can't wait to leave Jacksonville," and the list continues.  And yet, she continued to be home. 
She saw us find family so far from our own, family within the Marine Corps, family in our neighborhood, family in our church.  We are invested here, invested in the base, invested in our church, invested in this town.   Thus we are leaving more than a house or a town or people.  We are leaving our home.  While we will go on to make another, part of our hearts will remain here, in Jacksonville, NC.

Thankful Thursday

I can tell I haven't been as consciously aware each day of the little gifts I am given.  I can tell because this post is late and was difficult to write.  So, there are only a few "little" things, with a few big things.  What I have realized is that if I will stop, it doesn't take long to see how blessed I am.  So, for this past week, I am thankful for...

Living in a country where, even when I think my voice isn't heard, much less followed, I am given the incredible responsibility and right to voice that opinion and VOTE.  I can vote without fear of persecution or reprecussion.

The women who came before me, who understood that equal rights didn't mean taking something from men, wanting to be like men or even being better than them; equal rights just meant that our opinion on what happens in this country (and affects us) is equally valid.  I am grateful for the fight they fought, and won.

The fact that I am keenly aware of the sacrifices made so that I can vote.  Because of that even when the options aren't good, I go anyway, taking my responsibility seriously.

 

 Financial stability that keeps my family sheltered, comfortable and thriving without much stress.

My running partner being home, and always encouraging of me and willing to push the double stroller.

A night with an NCAA game, NFL game and an NBA game that all start after the children are in bed.  Add to that a husband who is home and has tomorrow off.  It's a good night.