A doctor, two dentists, and a lesson on beauty

The plan was never to go to the monuments, the plan was to eat good food, drink more drinks than we probably should, laugh at the weeks misadventures and make a few memories our last night at the conference in DC. I am still not quite sure who made the decision or how we got there, but last night, somewhere around one in the  morning I found myself starting my Armed Forces Day Celebration in the heart of the National Monuments with two of the finest Army dentists and one of the Army's newest docs.

Because we were touring the monuments so late we had the freedom to explore alone, no busy tour groups, no noise or madness, it was just the four of us, it was one of the most peaceful moments in my life and it was happening in one of the busiest cities in the country.

As we walked through the Korean War memorial I focused little on the faces etched in the wall, but stopped to read the cards, look at the photos, and smell the flowers left behind. I ran my hand along the wall at the chance to touch something so beautiful that meant so much to so many and in an instant when I stopped to take it all in I looked to my right and there was one of the dentists, a young Captain, with his hand outstretched running his fingers over the wall exactly how I had. We both just stared at each other in silence and when he spoke he said, "you are really beautiful you know."  It startled me at first (it has been a long time since any man who was not my husband dare say such a thing) but I realized that it wasn't any sort of physical beauty that sparked his words, the beauty was in the way I was experiencing the world, the way I was choosing to experience that moment. I know that this is true because at the same time he saw beauty in me, I saw beauty in him for the exact same reason. This type of beauty is eternal, the beauty of an open and humble heart, a pure  beauty that allows someone to see something over and over again but still only be seeing it for the first time. 

 I think it has been a long time since I have been that kind of beautiful. 

When we reached the top of the stairs at the Lincoln Memorial I realized that the dentist and I were staring right up at Lincoln completely awe struck by this amazing piece of history, but the doctor, where was he? He was sitting on the steps next to Lincoln, not looking at him, but looking out over the water at the Washington Monument with him. It was as if they were two old friends catching up as they watched the ducks paddle by. For the doctor, the beauty was not in the the grandeur of the monument, the unchanging Lincoln statue, the beauty he sought was in sharing the same view, the same outlook as this historical giant. 

As for the other dentist, she gave me a refresher on feminine beauty, what beauty that comes along with confidence that you will not allow to be shattered looks like. As we walked through the statues and monuments of the historical men of our country she reminded me of the beauty  that exudes from a strong professional women, fighting for her place in a man's world. This is a special beauty that can only be seen by other women. 

If you have a chance to see the monuments, see them at night, when the rest of the world has gone to bed, when "the entire world is quietly at peace." You will see unimaginable beauty. 

37 Letters

The Army did a lot of wonderful things for me, it paved the way for me to find my career, paid for two degrees, helped me find my husband, and in a lot of ways helped me find myself. The most amazing thing the Army did, however, was take me away from home. This might sound a little bit backwards, but the truth is if I had never left home, never gone to basic training, I never would not have in my hands today one of my most valued possessions. You see when I went away from home, for the very first time, and was away from my mom for the very first time, she wrote me. 37 letters she wrote me.  37 times on paper she told me about her day, about her friends, about my friends, and 37 times she told me that I was special to her and that she loved me. This might not seem terribly significant, but 1 year 10 months and 26 days after I left for the Army, my mom lost her battle with breast cancer. 

I would like to say that every memory of my mom is as clear as the day the memories were made, but now almost 12 years after her death, the memories have started to fade. Not the big memories of who she was but the little memories, the memories of her quirks and idiosyncrasies, the little things that remind me how much I am growing up to be like her. 

But then there are the 37 letters, 37 moments cemented in time for me to hold on to, for me to revisit whenever I want. Those letters are proof to me that time travel already exists; those letters are my time machine back to my mom, those are the memories that can never be erased no matter how much time goes by. These are the memories my children are guaranteed of the grandmother they never got to meet. 

So now today is Mother's Day and as we moms spend our days celebrating I challenge you to ask for one thing this Mother's Day and every Mother's Day to come. One hour. One hour to sit and write a letter to your children. Tell them about who they are and also about who you are. Tell them what your dreams are for them and for you. Spelling doesn't count, and it doesn't have to be anything fancy, although my mom loved colored paper and stickers, it just has to be a memory, one that you cement in time. Start your children's time machine now so that some day, when a day comes when you can't be together, they always have a way back to you. 

Happy Mother's Day 

To Infinity and Beyond

It really should come as no surprise that Case's whole world surrounds Buzz Lightyear, it is, of course, in his blood. 

You should probably know that growing up I wanted to be a lot of things, clown (in all seriousness here makeup, big shoes, tiny car), doctor, first woman president, firefighter, math teacher, but above all, astronaut. Yes, thank you for noticing it doesn't get much dorkier than that list (I even made up that part about the firefighter to seem cooler than I am).

Actual proof of my inner nerd, and the fact that I have been short my whole life. 

Yes, I wrote an actual letter to NASA

For as long as I can remember my entire life has been focused on the "what" of growing up. In fact some of my earliest memories are surrounding the all too common question "what do you want to be when you grow up?" Let me say that I am a Patient Safety Manager, and I can say with 100% certainty that I never answered the question "I want to be a Patient Safety Manager." 

There have been times where I have thought maybe I have sold myself short on my dreams and goals and it wasn't until this past January during an informal job interview that it finally all made sense. I was devastated that I would not be offered my dream job, or at least at the time what I deemed my dream job, so I was interviewing for a second position. The funny part of the whole thing is the job I was so broken up about, I actually was offered, accepted, and am still working in today. But back to the story...the man interviewing me looked me square in the eye and asked me "what do you want to be when you grow up?" I don't know where it came from but I told him simply "I don't really want to be anything, I just want to be a better version of who I am now" he didn't ask me another question, he just smiled and offered me the job on the spot. 

You see it took me 31 years to realize that it doesn't necessarily matter what you become, what matters is who you become. Now I won't argue that there aren't a lot of important jobs out there; we need doctors, nurses, teachers, policemen, scientists, and farmers. 

More than anything what we need is to be authentic versions of ourselves and we can do that in any path we chose, soldier, stay-at-home mom, cashier, secretary, professor, and even Patient Safety Manager. 

I want to encourage Case and Liv in all of their dreams but I never want them to lose sight of the people they are destined to become, I never want them to sacrifice the who for the what. 

 As for the astronaut thing, in Case you were wondering, Curtis came to pick me up for our first motorcycle date (and no, I didn't make that part up, he is definitely the cool half of this couple) and gave me a helmet to wear on the ride. I ended up with the most terrible helmet hair around, surely a space helmet would have done just as much damage if not more, so thankfully after that I have never had to look back and regret not choosing to pursue that path.  

Long after I am gone I feel certain that very few people in this world will remember "what" I was but my hope is they will share stories and smile about who I was.

Is your identity wrapped up in what you are or who you are?

Blueberry Seeds and a Thing Called Love

Curtis recently asked me if I ever do any "bloggin' or facespacin'" about him. Yes, he calls Facebook,  Facespace and is about a decade behind the rest of the world in social networking; he also does not read this blog. I feel very confident that  if my blog ever becomes a TV show I will easily have a second priority recording on the DVR after Duck Dynasty, Doomsday Preppers, or Finding Bigfoot.

It is only fair, as I lovingly joke about my husband, that I take a minute to say that my husband is an amazing man. He is great to me and the kids, handles all the finances,  keeps up the lawn and the house, does most of the cooking and cleaning (to include 100% of the dishes), and keeps me laughing through all of that. However, you should know that my husband is not "that" guy. Curtis is not the guy who is going to remember Valentine's Day or Mother's Day and admittedly even anniversaries and birthdays are a stretch for him. He isn't the guy to buy flowers, write love notes, or do anything that would border on romantic. You should also know however, that he hasn't changed, because when we were dating he still wasn't "that" guy. In fact he used to send me the largest and most practical packages when we were dating and I was deployed. Short of his name on the return address label there was nothing to indicate it was from him; no "love you" or "thinking of you" not even a "miss you." He is very much today the same man that I met and fell in love with; that includes all of the good and all of the less good. 

Yes, this is the man I fell in love with and married 

All too often we expect a magical change in our significant other once they become our husband or wife and our disappointed when changing their title doesn't change who they are. It's like this, most days of the week I drink a blueberry protein smoothie. It is delicious, but every time I drink it my teeth are completely covered in blueberry seeds. It is a huge hassle to floss them out, but I do it because it is a delicious smoothie and it makes me happy. So let's just say one day I wake up and say I am not going to call this a blueberry protein smoothie anymore I love this drink so much I am going to call it my "super blue power pump-me-up party punch." I drink my "party punch" and when my teeth get covered in blueberry seeds I am disappointed by it. I think this causes a lot of issues in marriages; we expect that by getting married we will no longer end up with blueberry seeds in our teeth. 

The truth is when you love someone and agree to marry them, you agree to accept their flaws and you have only two choices. You can try to change them (this won't work by the way) or you can try to change yourself. 

I take you back to Curtis. Not only is Mother's Day coming, but I leave on a business trip that Sunday morning, and Curtis comes back from the field the day before. I know in my heart of hearts that he will not have time to plan something (nor will he have thought about about it) and I will have my feelings hurt. So I go back to the two choices. I can wait for him to come up with something (again this is a terrible choice because I already told you it won't happen) or I can tell him what I need. I can make the choice to communicate with the man I love or I can be broken hearted and then get mad and hold who he is, who I accepted when I married him, against him. I did the only thing I could; I sat him down and I said "look honey, we need to talk about Mother's Day." His response was to be expected "oh crap, did I miss it?" I explained to him that he didn't miss it, but that if he wasn't careful he would. I also told him how hard it would be for me to leave the kids on Mother's Day for work (talk about your ultimate Mom guilt) and that I needed him to work really hard to make it special for me. I told him to go ahead and start Googling "best Mother's Day ideas."

I guarantee while it may be awkward at first, your spouse or significant other will love you for talking to them and accepting who they are and trying to work with them. Some of you might argue that come Mother's Day when I have something special waiting for me it is less special because I had to tell him. I would argue back, what is more special than being able to openly talk with your husband, have him listen, and respond to what you truly need? 

If you are holding the person you love against them, stop it. Go out and buy the best floss you can find and accept the blueberry seeds as a part of your happiness.

"The Three Truths About Mom Guilt"

A good friend of mine and I were recently texting back and forth about motherhood and she expressed to me how she felt guilty for having two perfectly happy healthy children that she didn't deserve, and basically that she was not doing enough or being enough as their mom. This is a phenomenon known as mom guilt and while I don't have any actual data to back it up, I would venture to say it affects 100% of good moms at some point in their lives as moms. Mom guilt is debilitating, it is what keeps us up at night when we give our kids milk that expires tomorrow or even worse, expired yesterday. We know it is only a matter of time before dysentery sets in and we make the Fox News morning report as "world's worst mom." We toss and turn and lose sleep and check in on our kids, losing the few precious hours of sleep we have, only to find them happy and healthy and asking for more of that same expired milk the next morning. We, of course, would never dream of giving them this potentially deadly milk, so we pour it into our coffee and continue our day.  Mom guilt makes us strive to be and do all that we can for our kids but feel bad when we work too much or not enough, when we are too strict in our rules or not strict enough, and when we can't seem to keep up with our fellow moms. 

There are three ultimate truths that you need to understand when it comes to mom guilt...

The first  is that in order to be afflicted with mom guilt you must already be a good mom. It's a lot like testicular cancer, you can't get it if you don't have testicles. Bad moms don't suffer from mom guilt.  So, rest assured, as you are questioning your choices, losing sleep, and comparing yourself to all of those Pinterest moms out there (no offense meant because I am one of those Pinterest moms) you are already a good mom. 

The second is that you are the right mom for your kids. Seriously let go of some of the guilt and know that no one is more suited for your kids than you, no one can do it better for them than you. Even when you feel like the worst mom in the world, you yelled, you screamed, you let them eat 4 string cheese sticks and a pack of M&Ms for dinner; you are their very best mom for them. I promise.

The last truth of mom guilt is that how you thought it would be and how it actually is will never match up; that doesn't mean that it can't be amazing. Let go of the way you thought it would be and open your eyes to how amazing it is. The truth is that what you always pictured could never compare to what is right in front of you happening every day. In my wildest dreams of parenting I imagined camping trips, and family movie nights, muffin making, and Boy Scouts. What did I have tonight after the screaming toddler dust settled? A 2 1/2 year old who can sing every word of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and is handing me a stack of at least ten stories saying "read these to my couch mommy." I know what he means is read them to me on the couch, and I also know that I never could have imagined this moment no matter how hard I tried. 

Smiles in between stories