Military Spouse Appreciation Day

Hello.

I’m Emily, married to Ron, and together we have two children, Krysta and William. We’ve been in the military for twelve years and married for ten. Currently we’re undergoing our seventh deployment, and have been stationed at three bases— Pope AFB, North Carolina; Elmendorf AFB, Alaska; now we’re at Tinker AFB, Oklahoma.

You’ll find that my blog is full of my inspirations, musings, and the little everyday moments that make me happy. So sit and stay awhile.

You can also find me on twitter and facebook.

Welcome.

Em

PS If you're a military spouse, feel free to join in on the link up!

 

Hope.

It’s been five weeks since I’ve reflected on our small daily moments and memory banked the tiny details that have quickly faded with time. As the days overlapped into weeks, I’ve come to realize that I need this place; this sliver of space in the blogosphere-- a place where I lay down my words, my memories, my images to tell the story our life’s journey. I’ve missed casting light on our positive happenings and realizing that it’s the small things that makes this life so grand, like a cotton candy sunsets or golden baby curls.

Since Ron has been overseas, my emotions are wavering and my head is cloudy, making it difficult to muster up and pull my thought process fully to the surface. I’m treading on water-- unable to move forward, nor backwards, not sinking, but yet unable to rise. I thoughtlessly go through the daily motions-- get Krysta off to school, entertain William, clean, paint, lunch, nap, homework, dinner, dance class (depending in the day), dinner, bath, bed, repeat, repeat…repeat. I tell myself to focus, stay in control, keep a routine, slap on a smile, and all will be okay. But, while I smile and laugh and carry on, I’m screaming on the inside. It physically hurts to have an overabundance of raw emotion full of sadness, worry, and fear. I feel powerless and helpless, confined. I can’t speed up time or skip ahead through days, weeks, and months. I have no choice but to endure the mind-numbing lingering minutes that make up time until our family can again become whole.

Over the past two months that Ron has been deployed, there have been many incredible moments, times that I wish we could have experienced together as a family of four, and yet, there have been moments surrounded by triggers. Triggers that stop me in my tracks and hit me at my core-- a phrase, a song, a gesture, they all make time freeze to a breathless halt. Ron’s presence and memory is weaved and embedded in the fabrics of our everyday life, as it should. I can’t prevent the triggers or the emotions that follow, nor can I avoid them, so I will choose to embrace them. I will embrace the pain and frustration, along with the happy carefree moments, because in reality, embracing the good with the bad, and overcoming the difficult is the only way to truly be “okay”.

Today, I’m embracing moments like this one.

And this one.

There’s a saying that goes, “Do more of what you love.” Cheers to that! There’s something magical that begins to brew when we surround ourselves with pure heart-swelling happiness. For me, my love is my children, painting, and anything artsy, so it’s only natural that I paint my babies.

Below is a piece that I’m currently working on…

 I’m slowly but surely starting to feel like my old self again-- finding love and joy in the things I do and extending that same joy and passion to my children. We’re embracing the loneliness and the hollowness together and turning it into our strength, our fuel to carry through the fight.

I have hope that life’s wrinkles and bumps with soon smooth out and fade and our journey’s path will lead to sunnier skies.

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” Oscar Wilde

Much Love,

Em

Spring Wreaths {Project Pretty}

Welcome to another edition to Project Pretty.

This week’s project was inspired by Chelsey from The Paper Mama. She created a fantastic FREE printable full of does and toadstools in various sizes, along with a floral bunting banner –perfect for adding a bit of whimsy and spring to your home. This project also went perfectly with our Little Red Riding Hood party.
While Chelsey made really cute terrariums, I decided to transform the three wreaths in my hallway bathroom. If you remember, I made these moss wreaths back in December, so all I had to do was add the printable does and swap out the ribbon.

Basically all you need is a wreath form from any local craft store, a package of moss, and a hot glue gun.

• Begin by hot gluing your moss around the wreath form, little by little until your entire wreath looks like a blanket of moss.
• Cut out your printable (I printed two sheets for three wreaths).
• Hot glue toothpicks to the backside (this with be your “floral pick”)
• Click here for The Paper Mama’s detailed instructions. 
• For ribbon, I actually used natural unbleached muslin that I ripped into strips and very loosely tied into floppy knots –this way gives it more of a whimsy, carefree feel. 
• Hang and voila!

Happy Spring and Happy Crafting,

Em

Moving right along.

Besides the song, The Twelve Days of Christmas, there’s nothing significant about the Number 12. But, for us it’s a tiny milestone. It’s 12 days that I haven’t seen my husband; 12 days that my children haven’t seen their daddy; and 12 days that we’ve been 1,000’s of miles apart.

However, there is a bright side --it’s 12 days down and 12 days less to go on our deployment countdown. We’re settling into a life of our own --keeping with old schedules while forming new routines that work for us as a "single parent home" to function and thrive smoothly.

I was raised in a single parent home; my father left when I was seven and I haven’t seen him since. In many ways, my unfortunate childhood situation has prepared me for this military life, a life of continuous deployments and fully taking the reigns while they’re away, being 100% in charge of the family and household. It has taught me how to be the glue and to keep everything held together when there’s a constant missing piece. I’ve seen the struggles of my mother, I’ve seen her failures and successes, and as our deployments have come and gone I’ve learned and grown from them throughout the past ten years of being a military wife. Unlike the typical single parent, I have a light at the end of the tunnel --my husband will come back, and we will be a complete family again. And that alone is worth living day to day with my head held high.

I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe. --Dalai Lama

Since moving to Oklahoma, I’ve been trying to live by the saying, “You can’t move forward, if you keep looking back” …or something along those lines. It has really helped me to stay positive through the storm and to write our family's next chapter. And so in order to move forward and steer steadily and victoriously through until the fall, I’ve been reflecting on Ron’s last weekend with us -- trying to memorize the little moments and embraces, the smiles and laughter.

Here’s a happy moment…

let me tell you, Brother does not want Sister's lovings!


And here’s another one…

one of my favs from the weekend


If you’ll excuse me, I have a little girl dying to read her book in the hammock and an antsy little tot begging to play in his sand table.

Be the glue, hold it together, and look above for brighter days.

Em

Farewell.

We starred at each other as the early morning dawn stretched through our window, shifting our bodies into bold silhouetted lines. Neither one of us moved. We remained frozen with rapidly beating hearts, soaking in the moment as William slowly breathed in and out in a calming rhythm. My breathing eventually became in sync with his and my heart relaxed to a slower beating manor, steadying myself for the inevitable. I begged time to stop, to freeze this moment, but we knew that our final hour was quickly approaching.

I told myself that I was going to hold it together. I was going to keep myself composed and strong and be a rock for my kids, but that didn’t go as planned. One look into Krysta’s huge quarter-sized eyes swelling into tears and I lost it. I was done. Finished. The lump that has been burning my throat for days dropped into my stomach releasing the flood waters to burst through the dam, leaving me in a sea of tears.

We tightly hugged, kissed our last kiss, and said “see you later” and “I love you” and “I’ll see you in the fall”. We turned to part ways, and I watched him as he disappeared through the double doors.

And then, just like that he was gone.

Evenings are the most difficult to bare during a deployment. It’s the part of day when Ron walks through the door from work, where Krysta comes home from school, and where we gather around the table for dinner and homework. We have a routine; a routine that runs like clockwork. We all work together like the turning of wheels and gears and rivets, spinning and turning effortlessly —if one piece is missing, we can’t properly function.  Finding replacements and re-rigging our routine is our first step to a successful deployment. Realigning the hndassort and swpassort (the legs on the face of the clock… and yes I actually researched the correct terminology) is what we’re focusing on this week. Day by day, time will continue to tick-tock until we can reunite as a whole family.

Until then, we carry on.

Em