Finding my Footing

Every move feels like a climb.
A long, slow, exhausting climb.
Dragging my whole family, and all of our worldly goods behind us.

The move itself usually goes pretty smoothly...after all, we've done this a few times, and know what to expect (the unexpected!!), so we're prepared, for the most part, when things happen.

The sequence of events is something like this:
We get orders, usually about six months before the expected move, and start preparations.

I start dumping things...things that have accumulated because of where we are (the snow shovels from Montana would NOT be needed in Virginia Beach!), things that have accumulated because of how long we have been in one place (the stuff expands to fill the space available...NO we do NOT need 11 bicycles!!), and all the papers.  So. Many. Papers.

We plan the date for the movers to come evaluate the household goods.

We plan the date for the movers to come pack the household goods.

We pack beloved things that we fear may be broken (or stolen!) to carry in our personal vehicles.

We plan the clothes we'll need for the transition period, until our household goods are delivered.

With the last move, there was the extra step of preparing the house to sell, and selling it.

We get the vehicles ready for the long drive.

We gather medical records and school records and veterinary records.

The movers come and pack the household goods.

We pack all of the rest of it into our personal vehicles, and stuff the children and the dog in there, too.

Somewhere in the midst of this, Jason is checking out of his command, there are farewell parties, and dinners, and last-minute get-togethers.

And suddenly, it is all over, and we are driving out of the town/city we have grown to love, and are off to a new adventure in a new place.

For a little while, the new is good...there is excitement about new schools, and new jobs, and figuring out a new house, and a new community, and finding a new church.

Then the reality of the newness really sinks in, and every one of us starts to miss the friends left behind, and the feeling of familiarity that helped us feel comfortable in the area, and suddenly the new is hard.

And the hard doesn't go away, and there is no way to make it easier.  Making new friends, and finding one's way around a new community, and learning cultural expectations in a new place are always a process, and they just have to be lived through.  There is no skipping over them.  So, everyone just keeps going, and keeps doing, and tries to make the best of the hard, dark middle, recognizing that there WILL be light...hopefully sooner, rather than later.

And then one day, after months of climbing, and slipping, and sometimes falling, suddenly we find ourselves getting to an easier part of the climb.  We can see light.  We have friends again.  We have found our way around town (without the GPS!).  We know how to get to the grocery store, and the mall, and the doctor, and the dentist...and we realize that the climb has gotten easier, and we can actually see something besides the trail in front of us.

And this is when we find our footing again.  For myself, for a lot of this past year, I have felt like the whole climb has been up a muddy, slippery slope, and I just couldn't get a grip, or find any toe-holds.  This part of the climb has been spent staving off depression, and loneliness, and anxiety.  Feeling unsure of my footing, or of my future, left me fearful and served to emphasize other difficulties we were experiencing at the same time.

Now, I can feel the fog lifting, and I can see the horizon.  I look down, and I find solid places to put my feet, and I know that the climb has been worth it, and we are coming out the other side...stronger, steadier, and hopefully growing through this long, hard climb.

Connection and the Internet

I know that a lot of people bemoan the advent of social media, and blame it for all kinds of disconnectedness.

I see the memes going around on Facebook.

I don't believe them.

Oh, I do think that people are less connected, in some form or another.  I just don't blame it on social media or cell phones or the internet.

Admittedly, my perspective is a bit different than most.  I thoroughly enjoy my social media accounts.  I laugh along with all of the cat memes and the dog-shaming pictures.  The cute animal videos get me every time.  Don't get me started on the military reunion videos.  There WILL be tears.

I DID have a MySpace page, back-in-the-day.  

I used to instant message with my grandmother on AOL.  

Now, I have a few different accounts, and love them all for various reasons...but sometimes I feel overwhelmed, also for a variety of reasons.  

As a military spouse, and a mom with children in other places, I use my social media accounts to keep in touch with people.  

I have friends all around the world, and I can keep in touch with them, and know very quickly that prayer is needed, and how to pray intelligently.  

I use my accounts to network.  

For trying to find a job. 

For help with recipes.

For help with children. 

For help with cars, and moving, and pets, and finding a new hairdresser in a new town.  

But more than all of that....

Social media helps me feel connected.  

I grew up feeling disconnected from EVERYONE.  

Some days, I still do.  

Through the use of social media, I can more easily maintain connections with important friends from old duty stations.  

I can keep up with what is going on with my sister in Savannah, my cousins near Atlanta and Asheville, my brothers in South Carolina, my aunt and uncle in California, and my friends in churches we have attended in South Carolina, Texas, Montana, Virginia, Massachusetts, and other places that they have spread out to.  

I can rejoice with friends from college when they welcome a spouse, a child, or a grandchild.

I can weep with the friends who are weeping over a loss...of a child, a spouse, a parent, a pet, or a job.  

I have been able to find friends who I have not been able to be in contact with in years.  

So, please remember that while YOU may be frustrated with the drama you see on your social media, others may welcome it, and may be using that exact drama as a tool to help them pray, and to connect with others.  

 PS.  I still don't want to see your political posts, no matter how much I want to stay connected with you.  I just don't *do* politics.  

I feel like a foreigner.

I get frustrated because I feel like there are huge chunks of understood culture that I am missing, which others automatically understand, and I don't. 

I am starting to realize that I don't look foreign enough for others to recognize my foreignness. 

Some contributing factors:

--a controlling, abusive, sheltering home

--a controlling, abusive, sheltering church

Even though I have been out of the home and church environments for more than 20 years, the effects linger. 

I fear I have assimilated so much that no one recognizes that I am a foreigner. 

REPOST: May 11, 2011

Originally written May 11, 2011, and titled "A Place to Begin", this was written while Jason was deployed to Bahrain, and I was a full-time student at Regent University.  This post really reflects where I am today.  I have since finished school, and have been in counseling the whole time.  Some days I feel as if I have made no progress whatsoever, and some days I feel as if I have made a lot of progress.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Some days I feel totally disconnected from the world.
I feel like an orphaned child,
Unwanted,
Unloved,
a "whipping boy" in the family where I have been placed.

Some days I feel like the king of the universe.
I feel as if I can take on anything,
do anything,
be anything.

Some days - most days - I feel as if no one cares who I am,
what I feel,
what direction I go.

There are things that I know in my head to be true, which I am afraid I will never feel inside of me.

I KNOW that I am loved.
"I have loved you with an everlasting love..." Jeremiah 31:3
I know that my husband loves me...that I *do* feel, sometimes.
I know that my children love me.

I KNOW that I have potential, promise, possibility.
I KNOW that I am a good mother.
I KNOW that I am a good student.

I do not feel any of those things...except the *rarely* feeling loved.

I doubt myself.
I doubt my abilities.
I beat myself up over things that are not my fault.
I battle the tapes that play in my head on a daily basis....
...those tapes that say I am not enough...
...not good enough, not pretty enough, not thin enough, not cheerful enough, not spiritual enough, not industrious enough, not organized enough, not a good enough friend.
I feel like if I only *tried* harder I could be/do enough.

So I battle on.
I am in counseling.
I am in a body of believers, learning and studying, and fellowshipping, and ministering.

This journey I am on is not easy.
I can't just "snap out of it," whatever "it" may be today.
I am learning how my past affects me on a daily basis, and I don't like it.
I am relearning things about how others see me...*VERY* different from how I see myself.
I am trying to give myself grace...room to grow and change, and to stop beating myself up.

The Conflict of Mother's Day

Most of the time I HATE Mother's Day.

All of my friends are posting these glowing tributes to their amazing mothers.

I'm jealous.

They change their profiles to pictures of themselves with their mothers, or just pictures of good ol' Mom.

I never...

They speak of Mother's Day plans, and Mother's Day gifts....

I DO love my mother.
I love my mother the way every abused child loves the parent that abused them.
There is conflict.
The sadness overwhelms me.
I always wanted a good relationship with my mom.
At one point I thought I had a good relationship with her.
And then I started learning what healthy, good parent-child relationships looked like.
And all of the years came crashing back around me.
The abuse.
The control.
The manipulation.
The deception.
Because I was the child, and she was the mother, and I didn't know any better...
I thought that was how I was supposed to be parented.
And now I mourn.
I mourn for the relationship I thought I had.
I mourn for the mother she could never be to me.
I mourn for the mother I wish I had.
I mourn for the relationship my children cannot have with her.
I mourn that she is not healthy.
I mourn that her refusal to care for herself means that on her "bad" days she is nice, and on her "good" days, she is the same negative, sad person I remember.
I mourn that I will never have a chance to have a good relationship with my mother.

And yet.
These are things which cannot be spoken.
Obviously, in the eyes and minds of many, I must have done something terribly wrong for our relationship to be so broken.
When I DO say something, no one knows how to respond, so they don't...and conversation continues as if I said nothing.
When I DO say something, I get told I need to reconcile.  Which reconciliation requires the participation of two willing parties, who both acknowledge their own part in the problem.  And this will never happen.
When I DO say something, I get told to forgive her.  I have.  100-thousand times.
So, I get the message that no one wants to hear that a mother could hurt her children.  That my words and my memories are wrong, because no one saw the horror of how I lived.  That I am not supposed to tell, because to tell is to tear down the image of motherhood...the one she worked so hard to perpetuate, so that no one outside the family knew the truth.

More than 35 years since life descended into a hell no child should ever have to endure, people still cannot fathom why I hate a holiday that stirs up the painful memories.

And yet.
I have 6 amazing children.
And an absolutely wonderful husband.
They love me.
They heap me with praises, and flowers, and jewelry, and so much love.
They love to show me that they care...and they all do a great job of it.
And some of them need the reminder of a set-aside holiday.

So, while some of me is in conflict, some of me also is grateful for the love my husband and children show me on this holiday I hate.

Thanksgiving in South Carolina

We had an amazingly relaxing few days in South Carolina with Jason's parents...we got to SLEEP, and to EAT (and deep-fried a yummy turkey!), and the kids went FISHING, and we DECORATED for Christmas....  Thank you to Nana and Papa for letting us come spend a few days at your wonderful retreat!!  (It was GREAT to see Papaw, too!!)

The homework still had to be done.

Nana getting the tree just right.

Jason and Jon wrestling the bird.  

Jon trying to get away with drinking MY Cheerwine.

Leah and Papaw spent *almost* every day fishing. 

We celebrated Heather's 14th Birthday.

Paxton family pictures...4 generations!

Penny, Robert (Papaw) Shipp, and Chuck

Nana and Papa with 6 Paxton grandkids!

Nana with the girls.

Great-granddad (Papaw), Granddad (Papa), Son (Jason), and two grandsons.

My first baby is a SENIOR!

Last night was Senior Night for Frances' Marching Band.  I got to go, and was able to (finally!) get pictures of her in her uniform.  

This is the child who HATES to have her picture taken.

Mom pinning on her corsage.    

All 16 seniors in the band. 

The seniors (Frances is on the very left with crutches!) with their Director, Mr. Tim Rossettini. 

I am so very proud of Frances!  With each student, they read off where they wanted to go to school, and what they planned to do afterwards...of the 16 Seniors, she was the only one planning to go to a Christian school, and she specifically said she wanted to go the mission field.  

Loving being a mom....

Some days are a REAL struggle.

There.  I said it.

It seems like there are people who expect the military spouse to be either one of two extremes when their military half is deployed.  Either we are supposed to be a complete train-wreck, complete with mental breakdown, drugs, and hospitalization, or we are supposed to be all sunshine and roses, always hopeful, always smiling.

Guess what.  We are human.

Well, at least *I* am.  I can't vouch for all of the rest of the military spouses.

We are, after all, a very diverse group.  We hail from all 50 states, and quite a number of foreign countries.  We speak many different languages.  We are not all Democrats or Republicans, not necessarily Christian, agnostic, atheist, Wiccan, Budhist, or Hindi. Some work outside their homes.  Some work from home.  Some call home their work.  Frankly, we are as diverse as is the rest of the country, but there are fewer of us, and we seem to live in a fishbowl.

Since the military spouse community is SO very diverse, it is troubling...nay, frustrating...to be so stereotyped by Americans in general.  We get told so many things, and have so many things said about us that most of us could write articles....or even books...outlining all of the stereotypes.

For starters...Navy wives/Air Force wives/Army wives ALL sleep around on their husbands when they are deployed.  So there are some that probably do.  The majority of us don't have the time...we're too busy taking care of his house, his kids, his cars, his pets.  Again, *I* don't.

Oh, dear.  I got off track.  Sorry...this is part of one of my soap-box subjects.

The particular stereotype I started out to address is particularly hard for ME to deal with.  Sure, this lifestyle is hard, and very few people understand that (I think the latest statistic I saw said something like 1% of Americans live life as attachments to the military.  That's a really small number.).  For that, we get told, "Oh, you knew what you were getting into."  Um.  NO.  EMPHATICALLY NO.  I knew nothing about this.  Frankly, my husband got into the military prior to 9/11.  Things were a LOT different then.  Deployments were shorter (for the most part), and did not happen with the regularity they are happening now. 

We can't always hide our bad days.  For that, I hear "don't wear your heart on your sleeve," and "smile, it can't be *that* bad!"  REALLY?!?  How do you know?  Have you tried being Mom and Dad to 6 children who really don't understand why Dad can't come home for their birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, July 4th, or summer vacation?  Have you tried dealing with yet another round with Murphy and his danged laws, while your spouse is out of town?  Do NOT tell me "oh, I know *exactly* how you feel...my spouse is out of town for business for two weeks/a month."  Please do not expect my sympathy.  For that matter, don't expect my phone calls, either.  I've got too much going on. 

We DO have good days.  They just aren't every day.  Oh, how I wish.  Well, maybe not...that might be kind of boring.  And frankly, I need variety in my life.  One of the things I look forward to (yes, I said that) when my husband is gone is a time of growth...which is often fueled by those very difficult things that happen because he is gone.  Those are the things that I can look back on and know that they have been worthwhile because they have made me a better person.

Meanwhile, life is hard.  This deployment is getting to me.  Things are coming out of me that I don't like.  I want my husband home.  I want another person to help carry the load.  I want a lot of things that can't happen right now.

The good news is that things are better now than they were around the holidays.  My head is on straighter, my load is a little lighter...or maybe my back is stronger...or God has taken part of the load for me.  Whichever it is, things are more bearable.  And for that, I am grateful.

And, I just found another blog...where the writer talks about much of the same as what I have been experiencing...Go enjoy TheArmyWife(DUDE)!  He's good!

Happy Birthday, Nana!! (a little late, but with pictures!!)

When we were in SC for Christmas, we got to celebrate with Jason's mom...with a huge party for her 60th birthday. 

It was a lot of fun. 

We saw a lot of friends...

and made new friends.
...and generally had a really good time. 

There was good food...

...and good conversation...

...with around 100 of their closest friends and some family.  

I am SO very glad we were able to be there! 
Happy Birthday, Nana!!

Christmas Letter 2010

Please bear with me...this one's gonna be a little hard for me to write and will definitely be different from my usual Annual Letter.  If it seems like I'm rambling a bit, please forgive me...

The Paxton family has had a very eventful year this year, and all of it seems to have been bunched together in about 2 or three months of the year. 2010 started off rather unremarkably, with nothing to set it apart too much.  The kids all finished up the 2009-2010 school year well, and were looking forward to a fun, if quiet, summer.

Jason was due to get new orders, with the possibility of heading to Afghanistan.  In July, those orders came through, with him scheduled to leave in October.  Or maybe that was November.  Or possibly not until February.  Thanks, Uncle Sam.  We appreciate the effort.

Also around that time, the opportunity arose for us to get out of military housing, and move into a house that we would be buying, but the financing (which we had been working on since sometime in March) still hadn't come through.  Nevertheless, we moved into our new house in August. 

Meanwhile, plans were moving right ahead for Jason to be leaving his current command, and to report to his new command for training in October, to be headed out to some vague place known as "The Sandbox" in early November...vague because the orders said one place, but were not quite sure.  At least we knew it was not going to be in Virginia.


In September, the kids started back to school (mostly in new schools), and Laura started her new adventure in graduate school at Regent University, studying Counseling.  Jason was finishing up his final classes for his Masters in Theology.  He was also able to take several weeks to spend with the family, and preparing things like legal paperwork and the cars for his being gone for a year. 

October saw plans for Jason's leaving to really start falling into place.  We had a HUGE party with lots of friends coming by (sure wish EVERYONE could have been there!!).  We had a photo shoot with a GREAT friend (Thanks, Jimmy!).  (Didn't he do an amazing job?! - most of these pictures are from that shoot)  We spent lots of time shopping for things for him to take, and spending time with friends before he (or they) left.  We also spent a lot of time unpacking the house, getting settled in, and doing things like getting TVs mounted.  Jason was scheduled to report for the drive to training in South Carolina on Saturday, October 16, so the night before we went out to celebrate our 18th wedding anniversary, and had a really good evening talking through a lot of details.  One of the best parts of the night was finding out that Jason was going to be going to a "vacation spot" for this deployment, and would be there with a wonderful friend from a previous command.

As I write this, we are just over a month into Jason's actually being off of American soil.   After Jason left for training, the financing for the house finally came through, and I got to do the closing by myself.  Yeah!!  We're home owners!  We had a quiet Thanksgiving, and are looking forward to Christmas spent with family.

Frances has had a good year, though one without any answers to the medical issues plaguing her.  The neurologists have given up on finding an answer.  I believe they are still convinced that her issues with numbness are psychosomatic, which other testing has proved wrong.  Meanwhile, she stayed busy this fall with Marching Band, a trip to William & Mary for the Model UN, and in the spring she was able to go to New York on a trip with the band.  As she is a Junior, we have started the process of looking at schools and (!) pricing class rings.  One of the highlights of the year has been getting to know her boyfriend, as he has joined us for quite a few evenings. 

Jon's year has been one of growth - literally - as he has shot up and passed me in height.  He has also matured as an individual, taking on more responsibilities at home and at church.  He is playing the trumpet at school, both in the eighth grade band, and in the jazz band, as well as taking part in the Rhythm Project through the school, which he enjoys immensely. 


Heather has entered the teenage years .  She is in seventh grade this year, and is enjoying being in band, playing the flute for the seventh grade band, and playing the alto saxaphone for the jazz band.  This year her birthday was on Thanksgiving, and we celebrated on the Saturday following, with a few friends coming over, but the birthday party came to an early end when Heather fell at the park and hurt her arm...and was followed by a trip to the emergency room,with a diagnosis of a broken bone in her left wrist. 

Justin is ten years old this year, and in fifth grade.  He is taking part in several different things at school, including studying up for a Geography Bee, playing football at school, and is looking into alternatives for middle school, considering the two magnet schools here, with advanced programs available for gifted students. 

Leah is eight years old now, and in third grade, and doing very well.  She is an amazing kid who loves the animals in the house, sometimes to the point of torture of them.  She is enjoying the new house, and especially the new neighbors.

Katherine has grown to be an amazing little girl.  She will be seven years old this month, and is in first grade, and loving it.  She's smart, and she's a good kid, and loves to learn and grow.
 

And so our family has had a good (if a *little* busy) year.  We've all grown, and we are all learning, and it has been an amazing ride.  Here's hoping the next year slows down just a little!!

Family Pictures!!!

Like I posted yesterday, we had an amazing photo shoot on the beach, and in our yard, with our friend Jimmy Sadler. He does AMAZING work, and is also a very creative writer. Go see his work at his website: http://www.jimmysadler.com/