"Don't Say It's a Fine Morning or I'll Shoot Ya"

(Name that movie!) That's how I've been feeling the last few days.
No, I didn't get lost in a pile of dirty laundry...though some days I feel like it.  I'm lost in the small matters of life, that right now seem like big matters, even though I know better.

My sister-on-law came and stayed with us, so I got to spend time with my newest niece!  It was a blast!  Even though the day she arrived, my refrigerator died.  She was very understanding about my lack of preparedness when it came to food.  We went to the beach a lot.  Bellows was probably everyone's favorite, except the babies.  They always appreciate Ko' Olina the most.  We went to the Dole Plantation just to enjoy a Dole Whip, and then strolled over to Wiamea Bay and stayed until dark.  We spent an evening shopping while Shawn took all the kids to gymnastics :).  And spent a lot of time talking and enjoying each other's company.

 About that refrigerator.  It still doesn't work, of course, though it is still sitting in my kitchen.  I am STILL living out of a cooler.  We will get another one.  Soon.  It really impacts how my day goes though.  I don't want to go shopping for very much food at a time.  I have to go buy ice every day.  I have to plan meals carefully, and if I don't, often I'm scrounging in the pantry, short on time, trying to come up with something edible.  There are plenty of other little problems like that in life at the moment, but that is the most annoying right now.  Mostly, I'm just overwhelmed by a very long to-do list that crept up on me out of nowhere.  Shawn's schedule just changed to 11 hour days 5 days a week too. Whatever happened to 3/12's?  Those were nice, *sigh*.

In other news, my mom-in-law is coming for Fall Break (a school break unique to Hawaii I think?) so we're planning more beach/pool/water park time. :) And, I'm very excited to watch General Conference.  It's usually somewhat relaxing (even with the kids) and always uplifting.  It will help me to calm down and stop stressing over little, temporary things that I won't remember in a year (or probably even 3 months from now!). 

Baby Lorenzo can stand up (for 5 seconds at a time or so)!  He also has two teeth on top to match the bottom two.  He's a very busy fellow.  He sneaks outside if anyone should happen to leave the door open, got to the top of the stairs several times before I managed to get a gate up, makes a run for the bathroom occasionally, and is always after the bookshelves.  I take this all to mean he's quite normal. 

What's a Commissary?

This really isn't an "army wife" blog.  But I thought I might write a little more about the military after a conversation-via-text with a little sister that left me laughing.  I don't talk about it much with people who aren't in the military I guess, so I don't realize what people don't know.  I am in my own little world over here (along with thousands of other military families, that is). 

So here are just a couple of random thoughts on my personal experience with military life.

I was talking with my husband just this evening.  He remembered a little girl about 2, who had just PCSed (moved) to the area and was telling him all about her very best friends and how wonderful they were.  He remembered feeling so sad for her that she didn't understand that she was not going to see them any more and would be making new friends.  I realized that my children are now at ages that will cause them to see this whole "moving" thing in a very different light.  Maybe "unfair" instead of "a new adventure."  Not that moving in and of itself is all that uncommon.  It's the moving every 2-4 years that sounds hard on kids.  And, from what I hear, it is.  They hand out pamphlets on helping kids cope.  There are hundreds of tips on helping your children keep some stability while being uprooted every few years.  As Shawn said, with no friends you remember growing up with, from way back when.  I have friends like that, but he doesn't.  So, one of the things I resolved to do is have good family traditions we can take wherever we go.  The gospel will be wherever we go.  And I am personally going to be excited about and love every place we are stationed.  Period.  There is no "I really don't want to be here."  I want my children to see the adventure in it, so I have to see it too.

I used to think the movie At War With the Army was a funny movie.  Now there are some parts that make me laugh until I cry.  Because they are so authentic.  Who knew?  Of course, it isn't really the funniest thing when he comes home announcing a very important formation at 0900 and I realize that he'll have to leave the house at 0600--so that the company can make sure everyone is there an hour early, which means that someone will be calling by 0730 to make sure he's there an hour early, so he better leave here by 0600 at the latest to account for traffic and make sure that he's there by 0700 so everyone will be happy.  We only live 25 minutes from the base!  It's not always that ridiculous.  But sometimes it is. 

Remembering

This post is for my sister, who wants to encourage important conversations instead of chit chat, which is also a habit of happier people..  Connecting, instead of going through life nodding and waving at people and feeling disconnected from all of them.

I had a miscarriage many years ago.  It was hard.  I was traveling.  My spouse didn’t seem to care at all, and wasn’t around.  My aunt was there, and was very supportive.  It wasn’t sudden.  I knew it was going to happen several days before it did, and was dreading it, anxious and worried for days.  I spent hours on the phone with insurance, trying to figure out how in was covered in an out-of-state hospital and what I was supposed to do.  I didn’t feel like they cared at all, and was sure they were trying to make it as difficult as possible. 

It was nothing like I thought it would be.  I was in “labor” for 13 hours, longer than any other labor I’ve had.  I was scared, and tense, and had a migraine.  I was traveling for several hours of contractions, from St. George to somewhere above Salt Lake.  I labored at my Aunt’s best friend’s house- a woman I had never met, with several children.  I don’t even remember my own child or who was watching him—I have no idea what he did or where he was for days.  I’m sure I should thank my aunt for making sure he was fed and happy.  I was self-conscious, wondering why this was so hard and long.  I thought it would be quick and relatively painless.  I shut myself in someone’s bedroom and cried and paced and curled up on their bed.  I wanted Mom and wanted to be home.

Eventually, my Aunt’s friend suggested massage.  It was painful, but a little while later, I was in the bathroom hemorrhaging.  I couldn’t move.  I called out for someone I think, and then I passed out.  I was in shock and being whisked to the hospital.  I came out of it long enough to tell someone I didn’t want to go to the hospital, that I wouldn’t do what they told me to.  We detoured to the bishop’s house for a blessing.  I was told to go to the hospital and do everything the doctor told me to, that he would be guided to know what to do.  At the hospital, I wanted to talk, but I couldn’t make the words come out.  I was still in shock.  I was so cold.  People were talking, to me, about me.  There were needles, and swabs, an IV, and they were asking lots of questions.  My aunt talked to me for hours and helped me to be calm.

Then it was over.  Everything was back to normal.  Except it wasn’t quite.  I was given a Father’s blessing. I talked to my mom.  She'd never had a miscarriage and told me to talk to my grandma.  For my grandmother, it was a long-ago experience, and she didn't have much to say.  She told me it just happens sometimes, to go on with life, and trust the Lord.

Then life became harder than I could ever have imagined, and my thoughts about it drowned in the wake of a new trial.

A couple of years and a new life later, I remembered the miscarriage with renewed anxiety.  I was at peace with what had happened.  I understood at least partly why, and why it was good.  But I was worried- that I would never have another child, that I would continue to miscarry (an inconsiderate doctor told me, while doing an intravaginal ultrasound and telling me my baby didn’t have a heartbeat, that I would thereafter have a 50% of miscarrying in every pregnancy after that), or not even be able to conceive.  We tried for 6 months, and I was starting to think of going to a doctor to see what was wrong.  I did conceive, and then I worried more.  I worried that I would do something wrong and hurt the baby, that no matter what I did I wouldn’t be able to fix it, that something was wrong with me.  

Now, when I find that I'm expecting, I hold my breath until I hear his heartbeat.  Then some more until I begin to feel him move.

I know God is in control, He works in my best interests, and that even as I have difficult experiences in the future, I will not be tested beyond my ability to endure.  I'm sure this knowledge should cause me to be calm about everything and never worry.  It doesn't work that way.  I still stress.  But I remind myself that He loves me and wants the best for me, and that everything will work out.  Sometimes I remind myself every day, sometimes I don't need reminding for weeks, and sometimes my husband does it for me :).