veteran's day parade

Happy Veteran's Day

basic combat training museum

We went on a field trip Friday. Bright and early (7:30AM), we headed to Fort Jackson, South Carolina to see the Basic Combat Training Museum (and visit the Clinique counter at the PX). Our tour guide was extremely knowledgeable ... I suppose that's because he's actually been through Basic Combat Training ... and because he's the dad of all these Rowdy Boys.

Guess what they've have been playing all weekend?

when your husband works long hours

Usually, Brian's day is not long. He leaves the house at 7:15-ish, comes home for lunch for an hour, and then heads back to his office until around 5:00. Except for on Thursdays...he gets to come home a few hours early. I usually forget that it's Thursday, and am pleasantly surprised when he walks in the door. So really, no long hours for us.


He does, however work atleast one weekend a month. We will usually do school on the Saturdays that he works. We school year round, and take a lot of breaks...so by the time his Saturday rolls around, we could use a few extra hours to complete some assignments. On the Sundays that he works, we don't go to church. I realize that one day when he is deployed again, I will have to learn to get myself and SE7EN children ready for church, but for now...we just watch Adrian Rodgers on Sunday evenings once Brian gets home.


When Brian is actually out of town, I try to keep things as normal as possible.


I repeat, keep things as normal as possible.


When we first moved down here, and Brian would be away at a training conference or the range, I would plan to spend the days (and nights) deep cleaning the house, or organizing closets, etc. I soon learned, that would make me super tired, and I would panic when it was the last day, feeling like it was probably not good to have the contents of everyones closets all over the floor upon his return. Stress. Unnecessary stress. Don't do it.


...I would also let the kids stay up late. Super late. And then we would all be super grumpy the next morning. All day. So now, bedtime is bedtime. I do, however, allow my girls who are 14 and 11 to stay up a little late. We watch a girly movie, and then they 'camp out' on the hide-a-bed sofa. Because it would be scary for me to sleep downstairs all alone, with just Baby Judah for protection. I don't stay on the computer all night, I don't read all night, and I don't cry myself to sleep (Scripture Lullabies on the iPod helps tremendously with this, especially song 6).


...I would also whine and complain to Brian on the phone. "boo hoo army crying" I try very hard not to do that anymore. He doesn't like to be away, I don't like him to be away, the kids don't like him to be away...but he's a Soldier, and sometimes soldiers have to be away. And it does no one any good to whine and cry and complain about it. Instead, I try to be encouraging. Share the good things that happened throughout the day, the cute things the kids did or said.


...I continue to ease the burden on myself by eating simply while Brian is gone. Tuna Casserole always. Brian is NOT a fan, so it's the perfect time for me (I was raised on Tuna Casserole) to make and eat one of my favorites. Pizza, delivered. And popcorn chicken or fish sticks for dinner, not lunch, is the norm. Breakfast and lunch tend to stay the same. As do our meal times.


...We continue to do school. Because it's our routine. And routine keeps everybody sane(like normal bedtimes and meal times). Sane = NO yelling! Yelling is no good. Especially when you're playing 'single parent' for a few days.


...We don't go anywhere. Usually. Home is safe and easy. If Brian will be gone for more than a few days, I've tried to invite some friends (for myself and the kids) over about mid-way through. No Library trips. No appointments. No grocery store runs.


...Speaking of groceries...we make sure we have plenty to get through until Brian's return.


...We make sure to talk on the phone every day. And text often throughout the day. And he will almost always find the time to call when the kids are going off to bed.

...

Before we know it. The days (sometimes weeks) have gone by, and it's time for Brian's return. And Welcome Home Day is the best day.


There are always signs. All over the house. My kids love to make signs. And Brian has hundreds that say, "Welcome Home Daddy!"


There is a favorite dinner prepared on Welcome Home Day. The house is super cleaned on Welcome Home Day. Our bed clothes are washed on Welcome Home Day. The yard is picked up and the entry way is made 'welcoming' on Welcome Home Day.


Then he pulls in the driveway, or walks through the door, and there are squeals and hugs and endless chatting. And the tightness in my chest melts away, and the heaviness on my shoulders is lifted. I actually feel my heart swelling with love for my Soldier-Husband who just spent days or weeks away from his family, his home, his biggest responsibilities. And I feel proud. Proud that the kids and I did it. Proud that Brian serves. Proud that we can continue to be the family that we are, even through the hard times.


So breathe. Just keep swimming. Take care of your home, take care of your children...it will all be over soon.


And find comfort in the old saying, "absence makes the heart grow fonder," because it's true. So true.

salute

 

Salute from Kathi Bailey on Vimeo.

when you can't go over the river and through the woods

I don't know what it is about this Holiday...maybe it's the fact that I have so many fond memories of my mother hosting our family's Thanksgiving Feasts. Maybe it's the sight of all the lonely, bare trees. Maybe it's knowing that everyone else is getting together. Or maybe it's just the fact that I simply cannot make a Pumpkin Pie as well as my Mother...

...but my heart breaks over not being able to go home for Thanksgiving. My chest tightens just thinking about it, and I actually get angry over the fact that we don't own a church bus (to fit my large, little family in).

Today, as I read Almost Home aloud to the children, something Mary's mother said to her spoke directly to my heart, and made me realize, yet again, that I am exactly where I am supposed to be,

"God weaves families together. 'Tis much like the cloth we weave. When we've filled the whole warp, we must remove the cloth from the loom, even though it settled there so tidily. We cut the weaving, and the pieces go for many different things and to many different places. One lot of cloth may go for waistcoats. Even if those waistcoats end up far and wide, you can always tell that they were cut from the same cloth. If the cloth merely stayed on the loom, how would it fulfill its purpose?"

...to which Mary responded,

"But 'tis such a hardship to be torn apart."

Indeed.

Staying here for Thanksgiving is hard for me. Being away from my parents, my sister and her family, my brother's family, my grandparents...it hurts. But Mary's mother is right. Even though I was weaved together with these people, God made me for something different, and for a different place...so that I could fulfill my purpose, His purpose.

My purpose?

To glorify Him.

How?

Loving my husband who He has blessed me with well. And loving and raising our children who He has blessed me with well. I cannot do those things, and pout and wish to be doing something else at the same time.

So I will stay here, and happily, contentedly love and raise my family to the glory of God. And celebrate His faithfulness to our large, little family...in almost the same exact way my family at home in Cincinnati will be celebrating.

Because I was, after all, weaved together with them.

:: Happy Thanksgiving! ::

when my mom calls

I speak to my Mom on the phone pretty regularly.

Most of the time we talk about nothing at all. She tells me how her and my Dad are doing, I tell her how the kids are doing, when Brian's next trip out of town is, and I usually share some of my 'homemaking' struggles with her (she was a homemaker for most of my childhood, and usually understands exactly what I'm going through).

Sometimes, though, my Mom calls with 'News'.

She calls with 'News' of a new job, or 'News' of new expected baby, or 'News' of an engagement celebration. But she also has to call me with the bad 'News'. She had to call me when my uncle passed away, she has to call me when someone is diagnosed with cancer (again), she has to call me when babies are born straight into the arms of Jesus. It is not easy for her, and she will usually start crying before she can tell me everything, and I will usually cry with her.

And I fumble with words. Because I'm just heartbroken. And because I am down here.

.........

I grew up as part of a family which meant great grandparents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and then this unique group of family friends. My parents had friends. These friends were like more aunts and uncles to me. They loved me, and I loved them. These friends had children that were like more cousins to me. They also loved me, and I loved them. I was so close to some of them, that it was almost like having another big brother and sister, and more little sisters.

My Mom called today to tell me 'News' that my friend, who is like a cousin, who was really like another big brother's son is sick. And I fumbled for words. And I am heartbroken. And I am praying. But I am still down here. Some 500 or so miles away, a good 9 hour drive.

And I say things like, "It doesn't really matter that I'm down here, there's not a lot I could do up there." And I think things like, "It's been so long since I have seen him anyway."

But, it doesn't change the fact that I still long to be home when there is 'News'. I long to be a present part of the large, extended family that I came from.

As my Mom and I end our phone call, we usually end up agreeing that God has placed me exactly where I am supposed to be. That I have a purpose to fulfill. And, obviously some of that purpose is to be a Military Wife. Which means I will live away from home most of my adult life. Because the place where I belong is (down) here. With my husband, who is providing for his family and serving his country. And it is a very good place to be.

But my heart will always belong in two places.

recipe for a military wife

Recipe for a Military Wife:

-1 C Patience

-2 T Elbow Grease

-1 lb. Courage

-1 C Tolerance

-Dash of Adventure

-Endless Prayer

-marinate frequently with salty tears and pour off excess fat (please)! Sprinkle ever so lightly with money, kneading dough WELL until payday. Season with international spices (or the kind from Arkansas). Bake for 20 years OR until done. Serve with pride.

I will soon be creating a Family Readiness Group for Brian's Unit. We currently have 30 of our soldiers overseas in Afghanistan, and no support network set up for their families. My heart goes out to them, and I intend on making things right. Please pray for me...being the Leader of anything is stepping waaay out of the box for me. And I need lots of time (that I don't have) in order for me to do this right.

my gift of service to you

I've needed a little help lately, and my friend, Cathy, kindly offered it. My response to her was, "But I do nothing for you. I can't ever come up with a way to pay you back, and I don't understand why you help us at all?" And she lovingly assured me, "It's my Ministry to you." So I accepted her much needed and appreciated help.

But I've fretted over it for the last few weeks. The "not being able to pay her back" part. And as I fretted and worried and fretted and thought...I began to see that my Life, my Children's Lives, my Husband's Life, Our Family...is indeed a Gift of Service, a Sacrifice of sorts for others. The sacrifice becomes *very clear*, after being an Army-made, "single Mom" to Seven Children for 12 1/2 days...

We *are* a Military Family, every time my Husband packs his bag to go, we are paying you back (or forward) for the help you offer us, while he is gone.

 

The last few weeks have been a challenge for me, to put it lightly. For those of you who do not know, my husband, Brian, is in the Army. He is in the AGR Program (Active Guard Reserves...which means he works full time for the Army Reserve Center here in town, and NO he is not a Recruiter). He is away at Army Schools, Training, and the likes, often. It stinks. I don't know how I manage to get through them (or the 3 months he was at Basic Training, or the year he was in Korea, or the 16 months he served in Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan).

 

I'm quick to miss him. I will tell my Mom, "I'm so lonely without him here." And she will say, "How can you be lonely with Seven Kids?" (She is joking, she knows how). I missed him the moment our lips met outside the airport, dropping him off. I knew we would not kiss again for 12 days. My heart ached for him as he told the Children good-bye, and I saw the look on their faces. I missed him that first night, when we did Family Worship on speaker phone, and then I missed him the second night, when he was at a Study Group, and we couldn't do Family Worship at all. I missed him last Monday morning, when I had to take the Girls to HomeSchool Testing, with their five little brothers in tow. I missed him, when our 7 yr old son had to miss his second and fourth Baseball Practice because we refused to leave him on the field, alone, with complete strangers, because his Sister had Cinderella Rehearsal. I missed him when the 3 boys, who had not gotten the cold yet, got it. I missed him when my Dad took us out to dinner without him. I missed him when TJ fell and cut open his eye. I missed him when Judah got fussy (for 4 days) as his two front teeth came in. I missed him as I took previously mentioned 3 boys to the doctor, while TeenAger babysat, I *really* missed him as the 8 of us went to WalMart to pick up the prescriptions for the 3 boys, and then I missed him when Wesley woke up the ninth night, crying and asking for him..."Is Daddy coming home Mommy?" I missed him. I missed 12 days of Love with him. My children missed 12 days with their Daddy. *He* missed baseball practice, sickness, family worship, conversation, a visit with my Dad, play time, hugs, ballet report cards, a birthday, kisses, smiles, giggles, Love...

No, I do not pick your kids up for their activities, I do not host dinner parties, I do not teach Sunday School, I barely return phone calls. But, this little thing, this thing that I do do, being a wife to a husband who Serves our Nation, upholding my Family who misses him while he is away, is my Gift of Service to You. I hope it's enough. It's all I can handle right now.

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' Matthew 25:40

Thank You Cathy.

children's book monday: h is for honor

Our book this week is H is for Honor by Devin Scillian, Illustrated by Victor Juhasz...another Military Brat must (this is a library copy, but it's definitely on our Amazon Wishlist)

"Using the alphabet format, this picture book describes the many situations and experiences that militarty families, especially their children encounter. For example history, rank, and quarters are explained." - the publisher

The author takes you through the entire alpahbet, and writes a little about each letter. A is for Army and Air Force too (but Army first:). D is for drill sergeant. F is for families who wait for their return. I is for initials...R and R, T.D.Y., M.R.E. (and if wife wants to understand husband, you must learn them too:). O is for orders (wish we'd get some for Hawaii), and S stands for sacrifice.

"Not everyone hears it. It's just a few. But there's no denying it once you do. When your country calls, you do your part. So H is for honor in the American heart." - from the book

 

You could not fully understand these statements, until you are a wife or child of someone who heard the call in their heart. It is true. There is no denying it.

 

K is for kiss. I know, so sappy. I have wanted a copy of Eisenstaedt's photo to hang in our home for years now. This page makes the kids giggle. Connor and Korinne are so romantic...

 

L is for letters. You must write them...draw them. Even in a time when there is Facebook, Blogger and cell phones that work anywhere. You still send handwritten letters, crayoned pictures, and homemade "eyes of God"...

 

 

Y is for the reason. The reason is you.

 

Z is for Zulu, or rather, Zulu is for Z. One of the coolest things about the military (to just learning little boys anyway) is that they have their own alphabet!

children's book monday: captain cat

Captain Cat by Syd Hoff.

This is a very special book to our family about a tabby cat that joins the Army. I bought it for Bubba just a few months after Brian deployed to Afghanistan in 2005.

Captain Cat sneaks onto post when noone is looking, learns to keep in step, help with kitchen duty and befriends Soldier Pete.

I couldn't tell you how many times I read this book to my little boy who was missing his Soldier Daddy sooo much it broke my heart.

It's a MUST HAVE for all Military Families!

Soldier's Wives...

...find video of Army tanks pulling up to Kroger gas pumps on their digital cameras :)

...even "Big Boys" who deal with soldier stuff everyday can't help but think it's "too cool" to drive around town in a tank!

a story about numbers

Around 7:30pm last night, I put #6 to sleep in his bassinet in our bedroom. Around 8:30pm, I put #5, #4, and #3 to sleep in their bedroom upstairs (Hank the Cowdog on CD). I head to the family room to watch Pride and Prejudice with my grandma , #2 and #1. Around midnight we go to bed. #2 and #1 decide to sleep with me since Daddy is out of town, and I could get LONELY. 

#6 is still asleep in his bassinet next to our bed...zzzzzzzzzz... A little while later, #5 wakes up. He cannot find his beloved papa (his pacifier). I trek up the stairs, locate papa, insert into #5's mouth and head back down to our bedroom. Shortly after I doze off again, #6 awakens, famished. I nurse him in bed, where he falls asleep (me too). All is peaceful for a while...until...#3 is standing at my bedside. He has had a bad dream (Hank the Cowdog is evidently scary). I tell him to climb in bed with us. "Us" now consists of me, #3, #6, #1 and #2. We sleep...zzzzzzzzzz... BUT, soon, so very, very soon, #5 wakes up. He is shouting very loudly for me. Locating and inserting papa will not work this time. I scoop him up and head back downstairs. I plop #5 between me and #2. Before my head hits the pillow, I hear #4's little feet coming down the stairs...thud, thud...thud, thud...thud, thud. He does not even try to get close to Momma. He hurls himself at the foot of the bed, on top of the covers and zonkers.

 

A minute later, Mimi (she does not have a #, she is a doggish-cat), hops onto our bed, looks at me, rolls her eyes, and hops down. I close my eyes. #5 honks my nose. We are not going back to sleep. #3 has no covers. #4 wants chocolate milk. #2 is ready to get up and brush her morning hair.

Good morning glories! So long Sleepertown!

our new life

Today we waved goodbye to Mamaw and Papaw as they headed home to Cincinnati.

We are still getting used to this militarty life, it's not easy. My poor kiddos (and myself) cried our eyes out for awhile and then I finally pullled myself together and reassured them that it would get easier.

They didn't really care to hear it though. They just wanted their grandparents to come back and keep them company.

The boys had been hanging out with Papaw playing ball (Connor got a new bat and glove as an early birthday present), swimming in the pool Wesley and Ben bought for everyone with money from Grandma King, and just kind of getting in the way as Papaw did some odds and ends jobs that Daddy hadn't gotten around to yet.

The girls had been painting their hearts out refinishing their bedroom furniture in very pretty purple and green Tinkerbell colors and learning to sew from Mamaw. Kylie made bathroom curtains for mine and Brian's bathroom and sewed bead-fringed tie backs on the curtains in her and Korinne's room.

We are all better now...our hearts are mending and we are settling down for the night, I thank God for putting such special people like Mamaw and Papaw in my children's life.