Charity's Crazy Beautiful Life

A move of convenience?

I had to take a break from my PCS Purgatory posts. I will get back to that soon.

I am planning on changing my blog picture and design soon. It's time. The picture that is on my banner at the top of this blog page is years old! Years, can you believe that? I'm not sure what has been holding me back, but it's long overdue. So, this evening I was browsing through pictures, trying to find a new one or two to use in my header. I wasn't successful and didn't find anything that caught my eye. What I did find (yes, I really need to spend more time organizing my digital photos) was a bunch of other precious pictures. I found the picture that you see above in the banner of this page -- and all of the other pictures that were taken on that day. 

These pictures were taken in the Fall of 2006. I can't believe they are almost three years old! They were taken by my good friend, Delphine. I was just getting to know her at the time. We volunteered together at our kids' school. She was artistic and had a good eye and was willing to come with me and my family (along with her awesome camera) and do a "photo shoot".  I knew she would be able to translate my vision of my family photos into something wonderful. 

 

This year, I wanted family photos that were different than our usual studio shots. And Delphine was so willing to help me out! You know, that's something that amazes me about military wives. We get to a new base. We don't know anyone. But we're willing to jump in, meet people, reach out our hands, open up our hearts, and do nice things for each other.

I was so very fortunate that during the four years that we lived in Montgomery -- while we were at Maxwell AFB -- that I was able to make so many great friends. Friends like Delphine.

I look at these pictures now and feel so blessed! Blessed that months after meeting me and my family, she was willing to tag along with us as we walked and talked, as we goofed around and spent family time...willing to document it. Our lives. Us being us. 

 

These pictures are some of my most favorite and treasured. And looking at them not only makes me miss the south, that base, the city of Montgomery...

 

but it makes me miss so much more.

I loved where I was at in my life in Montgomery. I had a wonderful group of friends that uplifted me and helped me to grow! I had a supportive and inspirational church family. 

 

I liked how I had my house decorated and organized. I loved my yard. I enjoyed my neighbors. I loved the school the kids were going to and the friends they had. We loved the activities they were involved in...their swim team, their scout troop, their ball league.

So, lately, during this whole moving mess -- I've been irked by something. Something was said to me about this move that just crawled under my skin. It was said that this move is for "our convenience". I don't think anything else has gotten to me more then when I was told that.

Now, are we moving because of my husband's career; is this move going to be beneficial to him in that way? Why, yes, it is. It's that very career and sacrifices that we, military families make, that help to ensure freedoms...even for those people who think our life is convenient.

 

Will we get to Japan and have great experiences there? Well, I sure do hope so! Will we have wonderful opportunities and make new, wonderful friends? I'm sure we will! Because we have to. That's a part of this military life that we live. But, that doesn't mean that it's easy. It doesn't mean it's always by choice. And in my opinion, it is never "convenient".

It's not convenient to explain to your children why we have to constantly move on. They get it, they try to understand...and we try our best to continue to be a close-knit family so that reality isn't as hard for them to endure. But it's still not convenient.

Literally packing up a  house in Alabama and moving it to Japan -- yeah, soooo not convenient. The logistics of what to take, what to leave, what to give away...what to pack for the plane, how to even get all of us (kids, dog, 12 pieces of luggage) on the plane. Yep, you got it, not convenient.

But here's the thing.  Even though it's not convenient, we do it willingly. With an adventurous spirit and an eager attitude. Because we are optimistic and we try to make the best of the opportunities (good, bad, or ugly) that this military life throws our way. How else would we handle it? Kicking and screaming the whole way because Japan isn't where we wanted to go? Nope. Because that wouldn't do anybody any good -- we have to go to Japan. So we make the decision to do it willingly. However, willingly is different than convenient. 

Saying those goodbyes to our church, neighbors, classmates and teachers, sports teams, scout troops, and all the good friends we made? Good friends like Delphine? I'd say that is by far the most difficult thing about the military way of life.  Because goodbye's are not convenient.

PCS Purgatory -- MY side of the story -- part 2

If you missed part 1 and would like to read it, click here.

I am realizing that talking about this with all of you is therapeutic. So before I start, I want to say, thanks for listening (or reading). And if you can really make it through all of this drivel, a really big thank you!

Ok, so where were we? Oh yeah...the passport...and about how we thought that things were going to go according to planned.  How we had hoped that things would be stress-free. As much as a move from Alabama to Japan -- with three kids (Killian lives with his mom, remember), a dog, and a month of visiting family on the way -- could be. But then, things began to turn upside down, and inside out...and suddenly...they were spinning...

How did all that spinning begin? Hmmnn...In order to PCS (move) to an overseas location in the military, we are required to have a military passport. This differs from a regular tourist passport in that the regular passport allows you to visit a country for 90 days. A military passport allows us to live in that country for as long as we are on orders to be there.

Before we left Montgomery to move to Japan, we had to work on getting our military passports.  This takes some time, as passports usually do, so we applied for them well before we left Alabama so we wouldn't have to worry. When we applied for the kids' passports, though, they told us that it may take a bit longer to get them for our oldest boys. Why? Because they each have a different parent, and that they would need to consent too.

Ok -- we thought optimistically; this shouldn't be too difficult. We thought that both Killian's mother and Daziel's father would be pretty agreeable. We were asking that Killian come to Japan during his visiation times... he had come all the way to Washington from Georgia when we were stationed at Fairchild AFB. And that wasn't a problem then.  And we were planning to have Daziel move with us (as he has always done), and come back to the states when it was his time to see his father. In my mind, it was not too much different, really, than living across the country. It wouldn't change that we weren't close enough for every-other weekend type of things, and visitation would be able to happen just as frequently. 

So, we thought that everyone would be ok with that. Why would there be an objection?  I mean, this move is because of the military. It's not like it's a whim or because of some crazy, fly by the seat of our pants kind of thing. It is a military move, we have orders, and when it comes down to it... not much of a choice. 

So contact was made in an effort to get the signatures the we needed for the older boys' passports. And understandably there were concerns, questions, and some resistance. We were moving thousands of miles away. We were no longer just going to be across the country, we were going to be across the globe. 

We encouraged discussion from our exes -- that questions about the move, the base, about the schools and kids programs should be asked.  I was happy to answer them. I had to answer them for my kids everyday. I had to research it for myself, too, when I needed reassurance and reminders about why we were uprooting our family and moving to the other side of the world. Eventually Killian's mother signed the paperwork. We cheered and said hurray -- one more hurdle in the midst of this mountainous move had been overcome.

We patiently waited for questions to come from Daziel's father. We waited for concerns to be discussed. We talked to the kids and got them excited about this move. Excited because of the awesome culture we'd get to experience, that the Japanese island of Okinawa has so many great things to do... that we'd be living by lots of beaches, and who doesn't love beaches? We discussed how we are a military family, and this is what we do. We talked about how we're grateful to have each other. And we tried our best not to dwell on the fact that we were leaving friends, scout troops, sport teams, and a community that we loved. We tried our best to look on the bright side.

Then...we waited. For those questions and concerns to come rolling in. For some dialogue about how our blended family was going to make this work. We kept waiting and waiting...and while we waited... packers came and boxes were filled. Moving trucks were loaded and rooms were painted. Good times were cherished, the rest of our passports came in, goodbye's were sadly said, and our travels began. Because...we were on orders.

And still, the questions never came. I tried to have sympathy and understanding, but time was running short. My son needed a passport to go to Japan, and he didn't have one. The spinning...it was getting faster.

So I freely gave information. I emailed websites about anything I could think of that may have held answers to where the silent opposition lay.  We signed up for skype and vonage so we'd have many ways to communicate from abroad.  But still...nothing but the response that things still had to be figured out. That consent was not given for us to move to Japan with his son; permission was not yet granted.  There was no discussion, no dialogue, no trying to compromise or figure it out. And why, I cannot exactly say... lots of water under the bridge. I will not begin to place blame here, but I will say that I felt sad. Sad that this is what our parental relationship had been reduced to. Sad that we didn't communicate much, and when we did, it wasn't well.  

I was also sad for my family, that the workings of the stereotypical "blended family" was raring it's ugly head. That it looked like there may be a kink in the plans. I was especially sad for Daziel... that his biological parents couldn't communicate. I was sad that he knew that everyone else had a passport except for him.

I felt backed into a corner. I didn't know what to do. What were our options? If Daziel didn't have a passport, he couldn't go to Japan. And I...I couldn't go to Japan without my son...

(to be continued)

*Pictures are from our family vacation to Disney World last Christmas.

PCS Purgatory -- MY side of the story -- part 1

First off -- a few clarifications. I need clarifications because without them, my mind is hazy and I can't think strait. So clear mind; hopefully clear thoughts.

(Our stuff nearly all packed in Alabama -- February, 2009.)

So to clear it up for those of you who aren't familiar to military acronyms, PCS means Permanent Change of Station. My husband, Craig, is in the Air Force and we are in the middle of PCSing (or, moving) from our last base in Alabama to his new duty station in Okinawa, Japan. And just so you know, it is not normal for a PCS to take this long. We are the exception, not the rule.

Another thing I'd like to clarify is -- that I'm Catholic. I'm not poking fun or making jokes when I call this our PCS Purgatory. I do chuckle a bit at my "inside joke". But really, some people have been calling this our PCS from hell, or have been telling me that I am in PCS hell. But really, I'm a bit more optimistic than that. Hell seems so...so horrible and sad and hot and miserable. Hell seems so damned and definite, so final. That's not what this "journey" has been like. At different times it has been trying, unexpected, frustrating, difficult, and even a bit painful. But in the end, I know that there will be a good outcome because I am faithful, hopeful, and ever the optimist. 

That is how I relate this PCS to purgatory; because it's been a longer process than expected. We thought there wouldn't be any hangups and we'd just get to where we are going (Japan) without an issue -- without having to "do time".  Obviously, that was not the case. But even though it hasn't been, and this move has been emotional and hard at times, I believe that it's all happened with a purpose. We -- my family -- have had some hard lessons to learn. But when it's all over and done and we are on the other end talking about this PCS, we will be feeling very blessed. Blessed to be back together again -- as one family. Blessed to have gone through this eye opening experience because it has given us a greater appreciation for many things. And as a Catholic, that too is what I believe that purgatory is about. I'm not going to preach about that, because really, I wouldn't do it justice. But if you're curious, I think this article explains it really well. 

Ok, enough of that -- lets start this thing... 

I'm going to start by telling you what's current; the news of the hour. I just booked our flight yesterday, and the kids and I will OFFICIALLY be flying to Japan on July 5th.

Now, lets back up.  We (with Craig) originally left Alabama on February 19th to begin our trek across the country. We thought that we would spend a month traveling to visit family. We would drive to Wisconsin to visit Craig's family and then to the Northwest to visit mine.  Our thought was that that would take a month, then we'd be off -- on our mary little way -- to Japan. Together. As one big happy family.

So, have you ever had a time in your life where you had plans -- and they got TOTALLY turned upside down, inside out, and then rung out? Well, yeah! That's what happened with us and this move...

Craig did leave for Japan when we had originally planned that we all would. He had to. He was on military orders and had to "report to duty" -- because that's the way the military works. He left here on March 19th, which means he has been in Japan for almost three months. Three months without us. Three months alone, in a new country, apart from his family.

Why didn't we go? Why did the kids and I have to stay in the states?

Well, it all begins with...a passport...

(to be continued tomorrow)

Quote Kick

You've probably read this quote before.  I know I have too.  But I happened upon it again tonight, and it spoke to me.  Really, deep down in my being, it gave me chills!!  Yes, maybe I am on a "quote kick", but  I believe that you can read something fifty-million times in your life, yet not really hear its meaning unless it is in your heart to do so...I hope it blesses you as much as I feel it blessed me tonight.  Wait for it...change is coming...I can feel it.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” 

~ From A RETURN TO LOVE by Marianne Wilson

Learn more about Marianne Wilson by clicking here.  

Decisions

 

(Take from July/August issue of Body+Soul)

Do you ever feel like you're at a crossroads in life?  Then, how about a crowded intersection with five o'clock traffic on a Friday night?  That life is causing you to make all kinds of tough decisions and you don't know whether your equipped to make them?  Or, you know that you can make the decision, you just don't know if you'll make the right decision among the possible answers...solutions...directions? And then, you get to thinking, and wonder if there even is a right direction. I mean, who's to say that North is better than South? Or that you might not be happier out West?  Yeah?  Me too.  And I happened upon this quote tonight, which seemed very fitting for how I'm feeling about some upcoming decisions.  Some big decisions that need to be made in regards to me and going to Grad school and/or getting a job and where my kids are going to school or home school and lots of other stuff.  More to come when decisions are made.  For now, I'll lean toward the power of prayer and have faith that the choices I make about the "the next phase" will be the right decisions and the right phase.  I'm not one to baulk at the idea of making a tough decision, but sometimes there are so many of them to make all at once that I want to just curl up in my warm, fluffy bed in my cozy pajamas and go back to sleep.  Oh, and tequila...gotta have the tequila when you're making them darn decisions!  Why didn't anyone ever tell me that decisions were the hardest part of being a grown up?  Here's to "the next phase" and decisions!  Cheers!! (Chug, chug, belch...smile...I'm headed back to bed.)

 

What I have been up to -- and not.

What I HAVE been up to:  sitting in this lovely (really, it's nasty and needs to be cleand which I've now realized since I've spent so much time in it lately) recliner watching educational television (Rachel Ray on the Food Network is educational, right?) with this boot on my foot. 

Why?  Because I have a torn ligament.  In the arch of my foot.  And it's torn in two places.  The first tear is near the pads (does your foot have pads?) and it's almost a "clean slice" and the other is near my heal and looks like "shredded beef", as the podiatrist said. 

So, when I first went in to see the doctor, she told me to wear this boot that has this little thing in arch of it that you pump up to support my foot, to try and stay off my foot, to take this anti-inflammatory prescription at every meal, this pain med prescription to ease the pain as needed (and directed on the bottle) "but don't drive while you're taking it, and remember, STAY OFF YOUR FOOT!".  Then, the doctor told me to come back in a month and we'd see how it looked.  She has to do ultrasound's on my foot to check it's progress.  I thought it'd be x-rays.  I guess x-rays are for bones.  Ultrasound's are for ligaments.  Hence, why I'm not a nurse. 

Anyhow, when I went back a month later, after I had remotely tried to stay off my foot (but had excuses like being a busy mom who had to cook and clean and go to ball games and do PTO President type things), she did another ultrasound all the while hoping that it had healed anywhere from 25-50%.  But when she started the ultrasound, she looked at me and frowned, and looked some more, frowned, and then shoved that blessed ultrasound stick harder into my foot (OUUCCH!!!).  Then she looked at me with a look - and let me stop there to tell you that my podiatrist, or foot doctor, is a young, 30-something woman who is witty and smart and funny and pretty.  So, I adore her.  I can adore her.  I've been in her office now about 5 or 6 times.  But when she looked at me with that disapproving look, I about crumbled.  "Yes?"  I asked.  "Well, looks as though you haven't been following my orders, Charity.  You HAVE TO STAY OFF YOUR FOOT!  I am going to let you look at this..." as she turned the ultra sound machine to me and showed me the tears in the arch of my foot and explained it all.  Then she followed up by explaining that my foot had not even healed 5%.  And that if it didn't look better in two weeks, she'd have to refer me to a surgeon and I would have to get surgery on my foot.  That was almost two weeks ago.  And because I DO NOT want to have surgery (for a multitude of different reasons like...I don't like the idea of being "put under" and having a knife slice my foot open, I'd have to be off of my foot for 6-8 weeks in the summer, my husband is deploying, I have to cook and do laundry and take care of my children...just to name a few) 

So, that's the story, and why I've been on "bed rest" or "couch rest" or "recliner rest". 

What I HAVE NOT been up to is: I have not been cooking, or grocery shopping, or doing PTO President duties...I have only been doing what I absolutely HAVE to do. Like, going to the bathroom.  And hobbling to a few ball games when they kids are playing at the same time.  Or like today, when it will be the last one Craig will be at and they're having a surprise Pizza Party afterwards for him.  And I've been working on my finals because I'm in my FINAL week of FINALS, which I'll talk about another time.  And....I've been getting my husband ready to deploy. And my kids ready for my husband to deploy.  You all know (so I think) that Craig is deploying for the summer.  He leaves next Wednesday.  Yes, the 14th.  But I'll save that for another post...for now, I'm going to go put my foot back up and watch Rachel Ray again so I can learn a few new recipes that I'm not able to cook right now because I really can't be on my foot that much.  And you've got to know that this is all DRIVING ME NUTS, but I'll save that for another post too.

And oh yeah, I will find out next week if my foot is finally healing and when I can get the boot off -- OR -- if it's not and I have to have surgery.  Will keep you all posted.

So you think you may be having a bad day?

Well, check this out!

Try dumping half a gallon of Kilz primer down your front side and the leg of your favorite pair of black jeans. 

I know, I know...things could be so much worse!  This happened on a day in the middle of book fair.  And it was a bit hectic, and I was stressed a little, and I was in a hurry trying to make it to an appointment.  And, the funny part was - we weren't even painting.  I was just trying to move the doggone gallon of primer.  So, after cleaning up the main hallway that caught the other half of this gallon of paint, I miraculously found myself in a much better mood.  I think it had to do with the fact that everyone thought I had done it on purpose! And to that, my response...  (Gasp)  "What!?!?  Did I do this on purpose? You think it's a fashion statement?  (Smile) Yup, you got me, totally planned!!" Ok, so yeah, yeah, I talk alot of smack and I didn't really say that. I confessed to my mess and didn't try to play the "I meant to do that" card too much. But I did have to walk around like this for the rest of the afternoon. And in a way, it kind of lightened my mood...and by the way, this was really a fad at some point in time, wasn't it?   Because, I may just try to wear these jeans again some day.  I'm beginning to think, I may even want to dump paint on the other leg to even it out. So, my suggestion: if you're having a bad day, try dumping some paint on yourself and walk around town, your neighborhood, greet your children at the bus stop.  See what kind of comments you get.  It might just make your day, and turn your mood around!

p.s. for those of you who say I never post pictures of myself on the blog -- those are MY legs, and my feet for that matter.  So there.  Nanny nanny boo boo! (Sticking tongue out and being incredibly childish and immature.) 

Resting

Right in the middle of many thoughts, lots of plans and planning of PTO and Scout events (5 upcoming BIG events - if this isn't on the job training for event planning, I don't know what is), new classes, homework and chapters, half-marathons and fun runs where I am the "official family photographer" - haven't gotten around to running as of yet, laundry, trying to live my life with purpose...cleaning fridges and pantries, planning menus, writing grocery lists, balancing checkbooks, reading bible studies, making to-do lists three pages long - for my morning (don't even ask how long the to-do list is for the evening) and...I go and get sick. Go figure! You mean, I can't take this overload? You mean, I need to slow down and accept that I am not Wonder Woman?  Who?  Me?  Surely you're mistaken, surely you know that I am Super Mom and I can...

O wait...my body is achy, my stomach is rumbly, my heart is sad, my eyes are tired...and no, it's not "that time" of the month.  It's par for the course, I guess.  Sometimes, it's your heart and your spirit that get sicker than your body.  Sometimes you just need to rest.  Resting, I am.  I get it.  I will hang up my cape and fly back to reality.