Motherly Advice to You. Love, Me

I just cannot even begin with this. Today I had a revelation in parenting. It came after a particularly unsettling moment with my son. You see, my toddler is a tyrannical three year old. Threenager is a ridiculous title for this age. Teenagers have the words to express themselves, three year old do not and that is why their behavior is so...tyrannical. Terroristic even. Some days I have PTSD flashbacks from parenting a toddler.

Today though, my toddler was walking about telling anyone who would listen that dinosaurs are beautiful. I have heard this a google times. I was not really listening. We were walking the dog so I was more worried about my son running off into the street than dinosaurs. And then it happened. My son saw an older lady (maybe 60s) and he beamed so bright and wide that I was smiling.

"DINOSAURS BE BEAUTIFUL!!"
"Dinosaurs are not beautiful young man. They are scary. You should teach your son the difference."

My son's face fell. He went from irrationally happy about his dinosaurs to furious in the those short seconds that this stranger spoke to us. His soul crushed. He raised his fist with his response and with anger in his voice,

"THEY NOT BE SCARY!!"

I was so shocked the woman walked away before I could process what happened. My son now angry at the world would not tolerate our walk any longer. So I knelt down and I asked to see his dinosaur. I told him how much I liked his dinosaur's stripes, and claws, and teeth etc. I told him that his dinosaur was beautiful. Then, I channeled one of our personal heros,

"She's an adult. Most adults forget they were children and all adults forget, for a time at least, what is really important."

"Impotent?"

"Like how beautiful dinosaurs are."

He beamed again and we finished our walk. The rest of our walk I thought about that moment. I thought about his fallen face. I thought about what I will say if he ever comes to me with questions about how to handle things like his with his own kids someday. Or worse yet, would he agree with that woman? I came to a simple solution. It starts today. Moments like this, moments of parenting struggle and strife amd triumph, I will write them down. I will write him letters about things as they happen. I started a cover letter for him of course.

"My Little Prince,

Your father has been calling you that since day one. It helps to remind him that you will see things with fresh eyes and eyes of wonder. It helps him to remember that he needs to tread lightly with you. By the time you read this letter, and those accompanying it, you will be an adult and I will hopefully be a grandmother. On either your 30th birthday or the baby shower for your first child I will give you these. Letters on how your father and I have handled various parenting decisions and messes. People always want to give advice years down the road. But I will not likely remember as truly then as I do now. So I am writing them now, when the memory is fresh. You can read them at your leisure. Maybe these will be bound in a book for you. On weather proof paper, because trust me, life requires it. After you have read them you may wish to tell me how I did it all wrong. And I will accept your criticisms, on one condition; you must be a parent first. You must have joined this tribe of sleep deprived people first.

I love you beyond belief.

Mom
•xo• "

Military Family Resources v. Parenting Summit 2015

I want to dispel the myth of resources for those who have families in the military and trying to raise kids within the military schedule and life. There are two types of military families and there are only resources for one of those types. The first type has all the resources. These are the people who are in the military (one or both spouses) and decide to have kids. They get all the help. They also have it infinitely easier than the second type. Military family type 2 (MFT2) are those families that join the military. We are MFT2. We brought 1.5 kids into the military (pregnant when we started on this journey). This is a whole different beast.

Why MFT1 has it easier:

• The adults were already (for the most part) adjusted to the military way of life.
• The conversation of having kids was radically different and predicated on the knowledge of a military lifestyle.
• The children will never know any different.
• The various military branches have resources for you.

Why MFT2 is fighting an uphill battle (and Gen. Patton isn't here to give us a rousing battle speech):

• Mom and/or Dad have to adjust to the new lifestyle. While adults do this much faster than children, they do not always do it gracefully.
• The family planning conversation was based on civilian life. Example, our decision to have kids included the statement, "I don't want to be a single parent, we both have to be in this." Military spouses of the world, enjoy the laugh.
• These kids have to adjust to the military life. The moving, the work schedule, the moving, the training, the moving, the making new friends, and the moving. Coda. (<-- for the musicians)
• The branches have no resources for you, because they do not know how to tell you that parenting is hard on its own and you decided to master the Kobayashi Maru of parenting. (<--for the trekkies)

MFT2 in reality, not theory:
We came into the military with a toddler and one on the way. The military was not in the plan. But life handed us lemons and we joined the military...no cleverness there at all, sorry my brain is currently mush. I did NOT, and still do not, want to be a single parent. Thus my husband must always be there for the kids and myself as per the agreement we made when we decided to have kids. The military is laughing in my face right now. "Husband? Father? Pft. Maybe in a year or two, right now he is just passing through." Okay, so that conversation and plan was already in place when we joined.

I hate moving. That is really all you need to know on that subject, it sums up everything quite nicely. I hate moving. There is no part that I enjoy or find any beauty or pleasure in. I am not a rolling stone, I am fucking moss.

I hate moving and thus my necessary time to adjust is...3-5 months. I also...do not like being forced to socialize. I am like a scared dog. If you try to engage me when I am brand new, I might bite you. Leave me alone and I will come to you...eventually. This also means that my ability to parent is severely stunted by my own difficulty adjusting.

My son's life looked like this for the 18 months prior to my husband joining the military: daddy home all the time, mommy at work and school 6 days a week, beloved pet chickens, lots of walks with the dog.

My son's life with the military: daddy disappeared for 8 weeks, came home and 48 hours later our house was packed and we were driving to another state. Daddy went straight to work and mommy is now home all the time. Five weeks later daddy's schedule changes and now he is home only 14 days out of the month. Two days later baby sister is born and daddy gets 10 days leave for baby bonding, then back to being home only 14(ish) days a month. Sometimes, daddy does not come home when he is supposed to because some admiral or captain or whatever comes to our station and daddy has to stay late, or it is range day, or open house day or because its Tuesday. The possibilities are endless on why he is not home. Baby sister is not going anywhere, daddy is not home nearly as much as our son would like and there is no regular schedule to his life as a result.

RESOURCES AND THE HUNT FOR THE RED OCTOBER:
So my son's life is in chaos and he is acting out. He is acting out with violence. Now, we are not bad parents. We saw this. We struggled trying to figure it out. We decided that the best way to change this would be to get on the same page parenting. We would have a debriefing of sorts on off going duty days (for civilians, this is the day he comes home). So coffee date where we discuss what I need to know on the military end, what he needs to know on the family end, plans for his time home, and general chatting about the world. Unfortunately, this was too late. Our son's behavior exploded the following week. My amazing husband took some last minute leave to come home and have time to sort this all out. In the talking about it, what could we do, where could we find help, how do we help him, we discovered some things. The resources for military families are specifically aimed at MFT1, and so are all the milso blogs. Civilians think the military has resources for you, or maybe your church. The church might, but not really the military. So what did we do? What are we doing? Well, my husband is folding laundry and I am typing this with my thumbs on my phone.

We pulled every imaginable resource. In a moment of desperation I emailed the sector chaplain, I asked friends out of town if we could come seek refuge there to figure this all out, and I prayed. I prayed a lot. The chaplain is the one military resource that you always have, in every situation. They are great people and the one assigned to our area has a great sense of humor and as a parent he has an understanding of the parenting struggles. Our friends let us come and they kept our son so busy and watched him for us that we could have a conversation about parenting in the military and what that will look like for us. We had tried to get some help from our branches family support section...they were useless. They offered family counseling a hour away from where we live.

You see we had to get away. If we had stayed home we would have done the laundry, washed the dishes, cleaned the house, worked on the car, done anything but what we needed to do. We live in a state of damage control right now. If the hubs is home, it's time to get caught up on the things I missed while he was on duty. So we needed to leave town to make sure we did what we needed to do.

Red October aka Parenting Summit 2015:
We talked and talked about things. We made a list of the issues at hand and ways we can approach these situations and decided what we would try first. We made an agreement that every 3 months we would do this again, while the time between summits we would minorly tweak things, no major tweaks until we had a chance to discuss it in depth. We talked about our short comings as parents, how we could do better, how to handle the upcoming training, how to be better spouses. Part of parenting is being responsible for teaching your kids how to have relationships and the most important human to human relationship is the one that is with the other parent of your child(ren). We returned home recharged and ready to conquer the world. It promptly fell apart. Changing habits is hard, and we lost our mojo halfway through day one. But there is always tomorrow.

Even the most family friendly military branch is filled with people who are not kind nor understanding to your struggle. Just this morning I read a young woman's question about whether or not her husband would be able to call home over the impending holidays. He will be at basic and not home with her and their kids. She asked about the holiday protocol for recruits. She got verbally back handed for asking. People do not understand the difficulty of this life. My heart broke for her. She was not trying to ruin anything (though some decided she was), she was just trying to get some information so that she could prepare herself and her kids for what to expect. I get this. I do not know how to help her. I wish I could give her a hug. We are not alone, but the military sure does do a good job of making us feel alone.

This is not about raising a family in the military, it is about joining the military as a family.

I'm sorry

My dear beautiful baby boy,

Mommy is sorry. You are my first baby, and mommy and daddy have made a ton of mistakes. In just about 3 years, we have made a lot of mistakes. Its sort of a miracle you are still alive. You are the front line of our parenting battle, the proving ground of our parenting worthiness. You are our treasure. At 5 weeks premature we were all so lucky that you had no serious complications and you nursed like a pro!! First thing you did kiddo, umbilical cord still tethering you to me and BOOM!!

Our first 2 years together weren't terribly frught with parental errors. At least not the damaging sort. Jobs lost and gained, military basic training, the struggle of juggling school, mommyhood, working, and showing you my love for you...you won't remember these struggles. They won't have major effects on your life. But, since about 2 and a half we have been embattled in trying to provide boundaries for you, and you pushing them every second of the day. You are loud (I'm sorry, you got that from me), you like to build things, you like to destroy things, you have really BIG emotions (again, sorry that was me). You have a big full life ahead of you. You got, maybe, a little too much of me. We'll see if you temper out with time. You love big and irrationally, you have anger that is loud and you are struggling to keep it from being physical. And as your parents, its our job to help with these things. It is our job to help you learn to guard your heart, and understand your anger. These are very grown up concepts. They are not something that my almost 3 year old can grasp. So how do we build the blocks to get you there?

That is where the battlefield lies. In building those blocks. The blocks that help you understand your emotions, how to experience them in a socially appropriate way, but also in a way that is authentic to who you are as a person. (And that my child seems impossible - even as an adult). The blocks that give you a foundation of love, compassion, and understanding. To accomplish all of this without being permissive... It might just kill us all. This is where we are failing. As you have entered this big phase in your own life and development, we, your loving parents, have entered a different phase too. Parents to two, being a military family, daddy being gone (A LOT), finding time to keep our marriage alive (you and your sister are counting on that, even if you don't realize it yet). These two phases are not easy to streamline together. But we try. Every day, we try. We are exhausted, beaten down, and feeling defeated. But we dig a little deeper and try for you and for your sister.

One thing that I know you will learn is how to apologize, mean it, and live it out. Because we do a lot of that with you. We humble ourselves in our errors, we tell you that we are sorry (sometimes the sorrow is so hard there are tears), and we try again to do better. That last bit, that is the key to a sincere apology. That you strive to do better. If we can give you nothing else, you will get that one thing. And I will have to learn to be okay with that, because that will get you pretty far in life.

Your sister will benefit from you being the first; we won't make as many mistakes with her. Already, we know how to handle various things (like teething, night feedings, crankiness) better. But we want more for you than to be our lab rat. So every day we will keep trying.

And now, I have to put a shirt on and stop you from using toilet bowl cleaner on the coffee table...Lord, help me?

Love,
Me.

0'Dark30

You have got to be kidding me. Its what time? Go back to sleep kid. Shh...whisper, if you wake your baby sister...okay, I'm up let's go into the living room. Where are daddy's sweat pants? Got it. That's a wall. Okay, here is some non expired yogurt and granola. How do I work my Keurig again...? Let me dump my oats and raisins into this bowl, add water, microwave for 3 minutes...baby is still asleep. Here's Netflix on the Nook, now let mommy get her 30 minute work out in before baby sister wakes up...fuck! Okay, pause and dash. Change baby, love on her, dress her...why does this onesie have so many snaps!? Remote out of toddler reach, oats on the table baby in left arm (the only arm her highness will permit me to carry her in), where's my water? Oh, got it. At least I can sit and have a relaxing breakfast...you shouldn't stand on the stool (queue screaming), that's why.

This, this is every freaking day of my life. This is what it looks like to try to be wonder woman.

My child is doing something in the other room that sounds...like there's no sound and therefore needs immediate attention...legos, right, where are my shoes?

This is what it looks like. I can barely believe I function and I'm in utter awe that my kids are still alive and my precious dog hasn't run away. No joke, he puts up with a lot.

There's a lot of talk about how moms need to take care of themselves first. Can't take care of anyone else if you are run down. Right?

Toddler made a noise...legos and we're wearing the infant insert for the Ergo as a hat...

Self care...the problem is that we approach motherhood with this belief that our self care must come in a block of time set aside each day for us to just be...us. To find our peace and our center. But then...BAM, reality hits you right in the face. Your exhausted, can't remember when I showered last, do I even have toothpaste for these teeth, face. Seriously, get some freaking toothpaste, your teeth are furry. You can't remember your name much less how to achieve some sense of self and peace. And that block of time? When is that going to happen? Right...as the new proud daddy freaks the hell out because the baby cries if it's not with you...uh-huh.

Welcome to motherhood. Now let's have a real chat about what self care really looks like.

At some point during my day I will finish that 30 minutes of working out. When? I can't say. I will try again whenever the opportunity arises. Even if that's after both kids are in their own beds, asleep. It WILL happen. I have a cup of cold coffee on my stove. I will drink it and it will be hot (okay warm) when I do. See its Sunday. And on Sundays we go to church. If you aren't church going people, rethink that right now. Its called free child care. They watch your kids while you sit in service, and in my case, sip on my warm coffee. Rethink it, seriously. You get to sit down and be undisturbed. Its lovely. My dog? He will get a walk. My toddler loves to take the dog for a walk and my leash is meant to attach to your waist. So he has it around his waist, leash clipped to dog, baby in Ergo, and the center of the leash is in my hand. Its kind of perfect. So, endorphins from the walk, more endorphins from the work out, caffeine from the coffee...I can make it through this day. Oh and there's nap time. Think I'm kidding? My toddler will go down for a nap despite his best efforts to fight me on this. He has yet to win. He wins with his dad, but not me. My dog will get fed...soon in fact. He will get fed, I will get the tiny toddler monster on the potty, dressed, and shod.

I know you're thinking that at least when my husband gets home I'll get some reprieve. Wrong! My husband will be home...sometime tomorrow. I'll get to see h for a day and a halfish and then he's gone again. My reprieve is that some times, while he is at work, we can visit him for dinner. Where he parents and I get to eat a meal with two free hands. That's my exciting reprieve. When my husband is home he does help out. But then I am not just a mom. Then, I am a wife too. And that's it's own can of worms.

I just remembered that I was going to be super mom and make blueberry muffins for breakfast.

See, self care isn't about a chunk of time set aside. At least, not when you're a mom to small children. Its about finding time to do things that help you function at your best. Like coffee, working out, sitting down for a minute. I read books in 10 minute increments because when my husband is home, I go hide in the car with a book for 10 minutes. Sometimes, I drive to the beach and read. (The beach is 2 minutes away).

Okay, back to being Wonder Mom.