Wake-up Call

    For the last few days I have been tied to my bed. Not literally of course, but close enough. I somehow hurt my back Tuesday morning and it has been a slow road back.
    Anyone who knows me, knows I have had a life-long battle with my weight. I even have a second blog dedicated to that battle. I've tried pretty much every diet out there, some of them more than once. I know what I need to do (eat less, move more) but haven't found the right motivation (other than "be thin") to kick my butt in gear. I think maybe this past week has shown me what the future has in store if I don't make some serious changes - now.
    It has been miserable to lay in bed and watch my husband take care of everything (work, house, dinner, the baby, etc) and know that I was not only not contributing but was actually adding to the work load. For the first day or two I couldn't even pick the baby up and if he was in my arms it was excruciating if he wiggled at all. Ever hear of an 11-month old who doesn't wiggle? Me neither.
    That's not how I want my life to be. I want to be able to participate in family activities - fun, active activities. I want to watch my son grow up and to be a full participant in his growing up. I want to be able to go for a hike with my husband and not worry about whether or not I can make it to the top. I want to go for a bike ride and really enjoy it instead of always thinking about whether or not I have enough energy for the return trip. I want to be part of life not just watch it. Most of all, I want to use this body God has blessed me with for living life instead of abusing it and wishing things were different.
    Just the other day I was commenting on how I don't seem to have the "right" kind of motivation to lose weight and get healthy - now it seems I do. Living life is more than just being thin or fitting into a smaller size of clothing. It's about being an active participant. Whenever I'm about to make a bad choice or skip a walk, I need to remind myself how it felt not being able to pick up my son or to sit on the floor and play with him. If that's not a kick in the butt, I'm not sure what is...

Perception

One of the first things I remember being told as a 2nd Lt was that "perception is reality." That one sentence became my reality.

Looking back, I think I was way too worried about how other people may have perceived anything I said or did. It's easy to look back and see how we may have done things different. What's not so easy is thinking about what we may have missed out on due to the decisions we made.

I realize now that most people probably didn't even pay attention to things I said or did. If they did, it surely wasn't with as much attention as I feared. People are usually pretty self-involved and don't pay attention to things other than themselves.

I was so worried that as a single, female, maintenance officer, I couldn't show any weakness. I had to work harder, longer, better than everyone else or they would pounce. Really, what would anyone have done if I had screwed up? Usually, you got yelled at a bit and then everyone moved on - provided you didn't screw up again. I didn't want people to see or think that I didn't belong or that I didn't know what I was doing. If they saw weakness then the perception was (so I thought) that I was in over my head. Or that where there is one weakness, there are more...all they had to do was keep looking and they would see the cracks behind the facade.

I guess I was pretty self-centered myself thinking that everyone was watching me or waiting for me to screw up. I didn't treat others like that (even if they had screwed up) so why did I think people would be expecting, even waiting, for me to screw up?

Probably in the end, it was because I myself had the perception that I didn't belong. That I was a fraud. That if anyone took the time to really look at me, they would see the cracks in the foundation and my world would crumble and everything I knew and had worked for would fall apart.

I guess thinking about perception as reality is good to a certain extent. It helps you to trust your gut if you perceive that something is off or not right in a situation or with a person. However, living your life thinking, wondering and worrying about what other people think about your reality is like forcing yourself to live half a life.

It's something that I can see now, and can only hope that the half-life I've lived is over and I can now life my full life.

Journal

For Christmas, I received a Five-year journal. I love the idea of jotting down a few lines a day and having five years all in one spot.

I've kept a journal off and on for most of my life. Going through them though, I've noticed that I tend to talk about my feelings more than anything else and they were usually only sad or upset feelings. That, of course, is part of why I kept a journal. However, the older I get the more I realize how much I have forgotten and how I wish I had been a little more detailed concerning events in my life.

I don't remember details about trips I've taken, or people's names, or even some events. This is especially evident as I try to scrapbook. I have pictures that help me remember events but I can't remember who was with me or exactly when it occurred. Sometimes, I have only a couple pictures - and sometimes as I look back I realize I took only one or two pictures of really stupid stuff and not of anything that really mattered in the long run.

A lot of times I didn't take pictures because I didn't want to look silly or look like a "tourist." While I was deployed, I didn't take pictures of people or things around me - but I have a lot of pictures of the airplanes. Cool, but they don't really tell the story.

So between the lack of pictures and incomplete journaling, I feel as if I have gaps in my history.

Hopefully, the new journal will help me keep track of people and events a little better. By having limited space to write in, it seems less daunting - sometimes all that white space was overwhelming and kept me from writing anything at all. Now all I keep thinking is that even one line is better than nothing...

More

A few days ago, I read a blog post (can't remember where) on what word you would choose if you had to describe the coming year in one word. One word immediately jumped into my head.

More.

That's my word for this year. When I stop to think about it, it seems wrong to have a word like "more" to describe what I want for this year, yet it's the only word that keeps popping up.

When I think of this year, I want to be more active; pay more attention to detail; do more; be more; write more; love more; forgive more; etc.

Lucky Me

Earlier tonight I was reading some posts on the SpouseBuzz Blog and one of them really touched my heart. It had a link to a song video by Helene Cronin. The SpouseBuzz post originated with the Soldier's Angels blog.

The song is called "Lucky Me". The SpouseBuzz blog had some history: "The song is a true story based on Helene’s trip back from Nashville. Standing at the counter at the airport, she happened to strike up a conversation with the soldier standing near her.  He mentioned he was headed back to Iraq and asked where she was going.  “I'm going home,” she said.  “Lucky you,” he replied."

I've listened to the song three or four times now and every time it hits my heart. As you know, I served in the Air Force for 10 years. During that time I deployed several times. I volunteered for every deployment I could. I loved being deployed; I loved feeling like I was finally doing what I signed up for. Every time an aircraft launched, I knew I had done my small part in making that operation a success and protecting the freedoms we enjoy as Americans. I know that sounds cheesy but that's what got me out of bed and kept me going.

I was assigned to Lajes Air Base in the Azores when 9/11 happened. I was doing turnover with my replacement at the time so there was quite a bit of overlap between the two of us as to who was helping to support our efforts when the aircraft began pouring through. There were a few times before I left that I felt left out of the "action." I was the one with the experience but the Director of Operations felt I should be concentrating on out processing. I understand what he was thinking but still wish he had let me make that decision. I moved on to Ramstein AB Germany where we were considered forward-deployed so we  only supported the fight from there. After 22 months at Ramstein I went to the Pentagon for the AF Intern Program. Once again, I was not allowed to deploy. By 2005, I was at Andrews AFB, MD; again, assigned to a non-deployable unit.

I write out this history of assignments to show that I never participated in either IRAQI FREEDOM or ENDURING FREEDOM. And I really wanted to. All of the other deployments and operations I participated in were not so closely tied to really protecting what we, as the United States, stand for. I'm very proud of what I did and accomplished while in uniform but I wish I had been able to do more. 

I realize I am very lucky that I never had to go to either Iraq or Afghanistan. Yet, when I listen to the song "Lucky Me", especially the words towards the end "Freedom comes at a heavy price; we don't all pay our equal share or know what it's like over there. Lucky us, the ones at home while others go to the battle zone; they are the brave, we are the free..."it makes me sad that I didn't pay anywhere close to my equal share and that I don't know what it's like "over there."

Back in 2003, I was at a course at the George Marshall Center. One night, we went to the symphony in Vienna. That same night, my brother was in Iraq with the 3rd Infantry Division. I remember the music made me so sad I started crying. All I could think of is that all I had ever wanted was to serve my country, yet I was having the time of my life and it was my little brother who was at war. I've never forgotten that.

I am lucky. I know that. And it would be very hard for me to deploy now with a husband and son. I am lucky there are still people out there willing to fight and die so that I can enjoy the freedom to sleep in my own bed in my own home with my husband next to me and son down the hall (and sometimes vice versa...). I am lucky I had the opportunity to serve my country at all and was happy to do it. 

I just sometimes wish I could have done more...

Almost Two Months

I'm sitting in my husband's favorite leather chair, which the cats have pretty much destroyed, with my nearly two month old son sleeping in a sling (not the same one that's been recalled) and I can't remember being happier...So, finally having my hands free for a while, I feel the need to write.

Having waited until I was toward the end of my 30s to have my first child, I spent a lot of my adulthood wondering why people with kids can't have a normal conversation. No matter what the topic, somehow the conversation always seemed to come around to their kids, their friends' kids, or something to do with the kids. I must admit, it was really annoying and I swore if/when I had kids, I wouldn't do the same thing.

Fast forward to now and I find myself doing that exact thing. Of course, part of the reason for that is because the only thing people want to ask or hear about is my son - how big is he now, how is he eating, is he sleeping through the night, etc. We had some friends over this weekend for my husband's 40th birthday and our son was the highlight. Everyone wanted to hold him...one person even volunteered to change the poopy diaper.

So, at least for today, I've decided to embrace it. I love my son. I love looking at him. I love listening to him breathe and I love talking about him. Of course, right when I embrace it and decide to write about him, he wakes up and I can't write anymore...maybe later, when he's sleeping in my arms again...

Catching Up

I haven't posted anything in months. The non-blogging started out because I had a huge thing I wanted to share with the world, but really wasn't ready to share it...so instead I said nothing at all. Then I got all anti-computer for a while and am still kind of on that kick - mostly because my day seems to fly by unnoticed whenever I get on the computer.

Since I'm at home and procrastinating on doing Thank You Cards for my baby shower gifts, I figured now was as good a time as any to do a goal update and maybe start blogging again.

2009 Goal Check Up

1. Start/write a blog: I was doing this pretty well until around June. I have four draft posts from June that I never got around to finishing, and then I just stopped altogether. With a baby on the way, we'll see how the whole blogging thing goes in the future.

2. Sing! Join a choir: I joined the Scott OSC choir but then quit. While I enjoyed singing, I didn't like the way they ran the choir. Mostly it was accepting money from the people in the nursing homes (and checks made out the the choir "leader" instead of to the OSC) and the fact that despite being affiliated with the military we didn't sing a single patriotic number. When I asked why we didn't sing the National Anthem at base functions, I was told they couldn't agree on an arrangement so they decided not to do it at all. It just rubbed me the wrong way.

3. Do yoga regularly either at home or in a studio (at least 2x week): Probably only did this 5-6 times and that was back in January.

4. Try three new activities: Once I got pregnant, a lot of the "new" things I wanted to try got pushed to the background...So maybe I didn't try three new activities but I did do some "new" things...Does the Wii Fit count? I also went for a weekend trip to see friends at the spur of the moment; got pregnant; got in a bathing suit for the first time in years and went swimming (more like floating considering the big belly); went to the Grand Canyon...stuff like that.

5. Go on minimum of four “day trips” to see Midwest: I'm not sure we've done four, but we have gone into St Louis a few times and we went to St Charles. We're also going to Branson soon. I keep thinking I've forgotten one of the trips we took

6. Pamper myself regularly: I've gotten haircuts, manicures and pedicures but not regularly...I was completely pampered while we were in Sedona - a prenatal massage, a facial (which pretty much tore up my face, but felt great at the time) and probably the best pedicure ever.

7. Read minimum of 18 books: My goal was either way too low or I read way too much...or somewhere in between...I have read 6 classics (my goal was four): Siddartha, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Jane Eyre, Sherlock Holmes (Vol 1), The Secret Garden, and Fahrenheit 451. I also wanted to read two biographies, which I did - one on Alice Roosevelt Longworth and another on the Andrews Sisters.

8. Publish a Poem/Send poem(s) to be published: Nope...the more I read of my own stuff, the less I think it's good enough to be published. I still enjoy reading it myself, I just don't think anyone else would get it. Plus, I haven't written anything for years, so what's the point of trying to get something published if I don't write poems anymore?

9. Make health/exercise a priority: Healthy eating has become a priority for sure - I'm eating much more fruit and vegetables, but I could still be better. I still love potatoes (in almost any shape or form) and have a sweet tooth like crazy. I'm happy to say the only "real" and constant craving I have had is for MILK! Crazy, I know...

10. Get “professional” photos taken: Hmm, the closest I will get to this are the pictures my friend Theresa has taken the two times I've gotten to see her this year. I would bet we're going to get pictures taken of some sort when the baby gets here, but that will be in January so doesn't count for this year's goals...

So, bottom line is I have met a few of my goals but not all of them. Though without having had goals to start with, who knows what I would have done with my time...? I still have a couple months left in the year, we'll see what I do with them.