green enough for me

b. e. d. time

2012-02-08T20:49:00.000+01:00

This is what my computer time usually looks like,

and then I mention it's b. e. d. time.

And then two silly boys turn into wild indians...

We scare the monsters away...

And Momma gets bedtime hugs from her sweet boys!

Most nights, we read books- tonight we didn't because we started bedtime way too late...
Tonight, we tucked them into bed and held our breath for about 20 minutes until they were quiet and settled and, hopefully, asleep...

And the day is done.
Good Night.
the end

Kinder Eggs, Part 3

2012-02-06T15:10:00.000+01:00

make a wish...

2012-02-03T10:43:00.000+01:00

I wonder what this five year old wished for.

I hope all his wishes come true...

a whole hand

2012-02-02T19:56:00.010+01:00

Five years ago, this little guy changed my life forever.

He made me a mother.

I sent him to the nursery around 3 a.m. that first night because all I was doing was lying awake, staring at him sleeping.

He's next to me, looking at the picture below and sees his cowboy blanket, (the red and tan blanket in the top left corner of that picture down there)...

He tells me, "See, Momma. I had my cowboy blanket when I was a little baby. I don't need it anymore."

Mind you, this is one of four blankets he sleeps with every single night. If I folded it up and put it on a shelf or in a box, he wouldn't last but a night or two before he was asking where it was and why wasn't it on his bed.

I hardly remember those days. I look back at pictures and can't believe he was ever that tiny.
I remember he was a good sleeper, but I think that was mostly because he slept in my bed.
I couldn't get him to sleep with me now if I bribed him with candy.

Now he bounces around this house like he owns it. He answers the phone if it rings, knows how to call people on web cam, and usually climbs on the counter to find bagels before he comes to wake me up in the mornings. He's a morning person. We're not sure who he got that from.

This boy is a brother, an international traveler, a military child, a tree climber, a snuggler, and a wild one.
He's a stubborn fighter. His favorite color is orange and he requested a lemon cake for birthday.
He loves school, and would go on Saturday and Sunday if they'd open the doors. He picked out his purple rock-n-roll shirt at the PX, and saved it specifically for his fifth birthday.
It's a size 5, and the sleeves are too long. He doesn't care, because he's five now.
He's fearless and he knows his way around an emergency room.

He'll tell you he's a whole hand if you ask him how old he is.

He's been on this Earth for five years- half a decade.

Where did the time go?

He rarely meets a stranger. He'll ask you questions until you have no more answers to give.
Most of the time, he'll ask you a few more just to make sure.
He loves with his whole heart.
And he holds my hand when we walk to school...

Happy fifth birthday, Bubba! You are loved as big as the world.

Kinder Eggs, Part 2

2012-01-31T21:22:00.000+01:00

newfound freedom

2012-01-30T21:20:00.002+01:00

He's been home for 17 days... It took me 17 days to find this freedom...

Her: I think the boys are finally asleep. I really want to fold laundry and drink a coke, but I think we're out. Of cokes. Not laundry.

Him: Did you drink them all? There's a root beer in there.

Her: Ew! You know I don't drink root beer! I guess I'll just drink tea.

Him: You could go to the store and get one....

[Also? Will you help Coca-Cola save the polar bears? Because I really ~~need~~ want the red cans back... ]

Kinder Eggs, Part 1

2012-01-29T19:35:00.000+01:00

dancing...

2012-01-25T20:10:00.001+01:00

It seems as though I dance through my days more often than I realize.

A few nights ago, in the middle of angry words and hurt feelings, my husband and I cleaned the kitchen together.
Our little kitchen is barely wide enough for us to stand side by side in;
yet, we somehow stepped around each other without bumping, without being in each other's way.
I unloaded the dishwasher and he scrubbed counters,
and we moved with grace....
but spoke without it.
When the counters were clean and the sink was empty,
I was amazed at how seamlessly we did that...
How could we argue so harshly, so hurtfully;
but clean a kitchen together so well...

Today, when Austin came home from school, the house was fairly clean.
In the time it took us to do homework, eat dinner, and play before bed,
it was all a disaster again.
We had a plan- David would tuck the boys into bed and I'd start cleaning...
The boys had a different plan- they wanted me.
So I stopped cleaning, and tucked them.
David and I danced through the living room picking up toys,
and clearing the dinner table, and returning a stray child to his bed,
and back to the living room to fish trains from underneath the table....
and back to the bed rooms to quiet and comfort little boys...
and back to the kitchen to wipe counters...
and back to the hallway to warn a child to settle under the covers....

And we did this dance in and out of their rooms, into the living room, into the kitchen,
moving around each other, and turning together...
without even really knowing that we're doing it...

But we are.
We're doing this.
Together.
This dancing.
This living.

I hope it lasts forever.

then and now...

2012-01-18T10:47:00.000+01:00

Then, after a 14 month deployment to Iraq:

May 2009
Austin is 27 months old. Cade is 7 months old, to the day.

Now, after almost 11 months in Afghanistan:

January 2012.
Austin is a few weeks shy of 5 years old. Cade is 3 years, 3 months old.

airing our dirty laundry...

2012-01-17T09:45:00.006+01:00

Since I've already aired our "dirty laundry," I thought I'd also tell you that my husband came home to a broken dryer.
Last week, our housing office had sent someone to fix it. It couldn't be repaired, so we set up a time for it be replaced.
I sent two loads of laundry home with a friend and borrowed my neighbor's dryer for a few loads... Thank goodness for good friends; we wouldn't have clean underwear and towels without them!
But let's face it- Laundry is the last thing on my deployment to-do list, and it piles up.

Along with a broken dryer, my husband came home from deployment to a hallway piled high with dirty clothes.
Somewhere in all those dirty clothes are the socks he left here, that I've been wearing for the past ten months. I think it's time I buy myself some socks...
Yesterday, our dryer was replaced, and today, I must tackle the Mountain of Dirty Laundry... one load at a time.

bringing the war home...

2012-01-15T15:01:00.002+01:00

I mentioned yesterday that sometimes the real battles begin once the Soldier returns home...
R&R and Homecoming are often thought of in the light of romance and rainbows, and while yes, that is true, there are other feelings, emotions, and issues that can interrupt the happiness.

I want to share our lives with you; I want you to understand me, my actions, and my love for this wonderful man and the family we've created together. I want to be honest here in this space, but I also need to protect and respect our family's privacy.
For you to understand even an ounce of our life as a military family, I have to open up and let you in a little more than I have....

R&R was a rough two weeks for our family. What should have been a fabulous getaway to the beach, quickly turned into two weeks I don't even want to think about...
On day ten of our R&R, I made a decision that will forever affect our family. I packed my things, I packed the boys' things and we left the condo.

My husband spent the last four days of his R&R alone, in a condo at the beach. He had to take a shuttle to the airport to catch his return flight to Afghanistan.
I won't go into detail; I won't defend my actions- nor, will I defend his. In the same breath, I can't deny them either.
I will say that I know, get, understand what someone means when they say, "Soldiers never leave the war." I also understand what it means to say, "Soldiers leave one war and come home to another..."

David and I have spent the last five months trying to salvage our marriage and our hearts. We're both hurt and broken and co-dependent. We've tried to take things one day at a time, but really, we were holding our breath until Homecoming.
Our lives were on hold. There was nothing we could do, even if we had known what we wanted to do. Any decisions had to wait until he came home....

Yesterday, he marched into a gym and my eyes searched for him. As the sea of people dispersed, I still did not see him. I couldn't find his stride, nor could I find half-tilted patrol cap.

I stood there defeated, as families reunited around us. I stood in the middle of a crowded gym and could not find our Soldier.
My heart sank.
Where was he? Is this how our deployment ends?
I didn't want to move from where I stood in the middle of the gym floor, but I had to find him.

And then, after minutes of wondering what the hell was going on, he showed up- with a smile on his face and hugs for all of us.
(He was in the back of the formation and when he didn't see us, he walked outside to see if we'd wandered out there.... He found another soldier and called the house, when we didn't answer at home, he knew we'd be at the gym and he went back inside to find us.)

After reuniting with hugs in the middle of a now nearly empty gym, we buckled our boys into their carseats and we went home. Together.
If I'm being honest, I should tell you that a few months ago, I didn't know if yesterday would happen. I didn't know if we'd be in Germany for his Homecoming. I didn't know if he and I would hug and kiss in the middle of the gym floor, or if he'd simply scoop his boys up in his arms and that be that.

Some Soldiers never leave the war. My husband is one of them.
His Homecoming yesterday was filled with romance and happiness, but it's also filled with apprehension and worry. Our battles started yesterday, and I'm not sure when they'll end.

So while this deployment may be Praise! The! Lord! over, the hardest part has just begun....
Today? is Day 1.

[The photos above from Homecoming were taken by a dear friend. I, also, wanted to share that Kim Kravitz, a photographer and military spouse, was at our homecoming through Operation Love for a friend. She shared some amazing photographs of our family and the emotions I've shared here. ]

Welcome Home, Soldier.

2012-01-14T17:55:00.001+01:00

Deployment = Survived!

After (approximately, you know- who's counting?) 10 months, 14 days, 12 hours, and about 30 minutes, our Soldier is home. We shared our joy LIVE today through the MilFamHomecoming hashtag on Twitter. We are so blessed to have our Soldier home safe. Thank you to everyone for supporting us through this journey. Please continue to pray for those families that are still separated because of this war, and remember that sometimes the real battles begin once the Soldier returns home....
Much, much love, from our hearts to yours.

*the following was originally posted in february of 2011. nearly one year ago...

My left hand holds my rings.

While my left arm stings.

Permanent color of

A yellow ribbon, and

Liebe means love.

A testament of

faith, and strength.

Pain that means

something better is coming.

A fear of goodbye.

A longing for hello, again.

A love that started

with friendship.

A friendship that grew

into love, and love that

grew into family.

A soldier packs.

A family waits.

Permanent color of

a yellow ribbon

and Liebe.

Reminding me now

that love will pull me through.

Reminding me later

that if our friendship, our love

can survive deployment,

our friendship, our love

can survive anything.

We've survived it before.

We'll survive it again.

Even if it means,

I wear my heart on my sleeve.

nothing to do with strength

2012-01-09T20:16:00.004+01:00

Most days, I don't know what I'm doing. I think I've said that here before.

Saturday proved no different.
We spent four hours in the ER, because I thought Cade needed stitches.

Turns out he pretty much just cut a hunk of skin out of his finger.
A nurse practitioner cleaned his wound, applied ointment, and mummy wrapped his hand.
As we left, I felt embarrassed.

I could have done that.

I could and can do a lot of things.
But in the heat of that moment, in the thick of it...
I needed help.

I needed the reassurance from a medical professional that his finger was ok.

I need someone to tell me it's ok.
I need someone to hug me tight when I feel like breaking.

A few months ago, I needed a friend to sort through my laundry and show me where to put the clutter.
I had gotten so caught up in all of it, that I just couldn't see any of it.

I need to take Austin to school every day, because it means I get out of the house- twice a day.

Who cares that I throw clothes on and walk out the door... The point is that I walk out the door.

Deployment teaches us a lot about ourselves... about who we are and who we hope to be.
I hear, "I admire your strength," or, "You are so strong," more times than I care to count.
The thing is... It's not about strength. We all have the strength to survive anything.
It's just buried deep inside.
It's about asking for help when you need it, and just simply getting things done.
It's about perseverance and the will to keep going.

Here we are in the middle of the eleventh month, and I'm second guessing myself.
I'm tired and worn out.
So much waits for us on the other side of this deployment-
and I'm not even sure how I'll get there...

But this I know...

Cade needs a clean bandage twice a day.

Austin needs to be walked to and from school Monday-Friday.

Groceries need to be bought.

Bills need to be paid.

Playgrounds need to played on.

Friends need to be hugged.

The coffee shop will always sell me coffee.

Bedtime will come.

And this deployment will end.

I just gotta keep going....

two seas

2012-01-05T23:37:00.002+01:00

credit

It's true.

In a sea of people, my eyes will always search for him.

Even when I know he's not there, I search for him.

I search for his stride, his gate, his smile...

Perhaps someone will have his nose.

I remember his details...

because

soon

it will be his face, his arms I'm searching for...

Soon those uniforms will walk through orange double doors.

A sea of multi-cam will march in.

Calm and orderly.

My eyes will search for his face and the way he walks.

I'll search for something only I can recognize,

I'll search for the way he tilts his hat ever so slightly forward- bucking the rules without too much rebellion.

In a sea of spouses and kids, he'll search for us

through the chaos, tears, and excitement.

Moving only his eyes and remembering not to lock his knees...

He'll search for the little one on my hip, and the older one by my side.

He'll search for the smile on my face and the tears on my cheek.

And then someone will say, "Dismissed!"

The two seas of people will crash into each other.

We'll find each other, and

in the sea of people,

the only people that will matter

are the four of us.

Together.

No longer fighting to stay afloat.

Soon.

Linked to The Saturday Evening Blog Post

Happy New Year!

2012-01-03T19:28:00.002+01:00

They say that good things come to those who wait...

They say that everything happens for a reason...

They also say that the best is yet to be...

Whoever they is... I sure hope they're right.
Because this year? Already feels good.
I already feel a weight lifted off my shoulders, simply by turning the page on the calendar...

A new day, a new year.
A new start.

Another chance I don't deserve.

What Christmas morning looked like...

2011-12-26T21:16:00.002+01:00

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T12:43:00.000+01:00

[comments closed. but you can always email at greenenough4me at gmail dot com.]

a dollhouse

2011-12-16T22:20:00.000+01:00

on christmas morning, there was a dollhouse in the dining room.

the same dollhouse that sits in my parent's basement today.

an unfinished dollhouse.

with a bag of shingles on the roof.

filled to the brim with furniture.

some new.

some passed on to me from my mom's childhood.

there was a family.

and a dog.

santa brought the dollhouse.

but deep down i knew my dad spent countless hours building it.

[comments closed. but you can always email at greenenough4me at gmail dot com.]

it is what it was.

2011-12-09T13:06:00.003+01:00

well. hell.

for a few weeks, we had exciting news.
our soldier's deployment would end early.
and this, our hopeful last deployment, would end.

it would mean that i wouldn't have to spend the holidays alone, with our two boys.
it would mean our soldier would be home. for christmas.
(and our five year anniversary. and new years... and most every day after that...)
i was ecstatic, and hopeful. i didn't mail david a christmas package, because ~~it would have arrived after he'd already left the country~~ because he would be home. for christmas...
and i planned...
and that's where i went wrong....

i planned on it.
and i know better.

because when you plan on things in the military...
they don't happen.

and i'm a little crushed.
and a little lost in dealing with this roller coaster of emotions.

it's nothing new.
i know this.
i knew it could happen.
i just didn't think it would happen.

instead of him coming home early, we're back to square one...
back to looking at a twelve month deployment.

and while that was the plan all along, i've been hopeful that for us,
it would end... a few months early.

and so here we are.
picking up the pieces, where there shouldn't be pieces.
because it is now, what it always was.
a twelve month deployment.

except now?
there's not a christmas package in the mail for my husband.
and it's taking every fiber in me,
to not march right over to his unit's facebook page,
or straight into somebody's office,
and let. them. know...
that's it's their fault.
that this is wrong.
that i'm furious with them.
that this is not fair.

or, really?
that i'm just heartbroken. and jaded. and lonely.
and so ready to just.be.done. with this helluva army life.

damn, army.

[comments closed. but you can always email at greenenough4me at gmail dot com.]

overstayed.

2011-12-07T19:08:00.002+01:00

i feel as though we've overstayed our welcome.

we're at the beginning of year five of two overseas tours.

that's a long time in one place.

especially when the army is involved.

i've said goodbye to numerous friends over the years.

and here, we are.

still here.

friends that arrived here after we arrived,

will leave early next year,

a good six months before we pack up and move out.

and my friendships here,

have seemingly run their course.

friends branch out and move on,

swap units, and with that, you swap frg groups.

and your support structure changes.

kids enter school and toddlers stay little.

and people get busy, and find new hobbies,

and i'm tired of making friends.

i want to guard my heart.

i don't want to let new people in, because

i'm tired of having to say goodbye.

i don't want to put myself out there again.

i want what i've always had.

i need what i've always had.

for once, i need something to just stay the same.
this southern girl is ready for roots.
roots that dig deep, and cling.
roots that can't be pulled up, no matter how hard you try,
roots that when cut off...
keep growing.

[comments closed. you can always email me though- greenenough4me at gmail dot com]

gyspy

2011-11-29T00:18:00.000+01:00

sunrise

2011-11-24T20:47:00.000+01:00

happy sunrise.

happy day.

happy thanksgiving.

hug your loved ones. enjoy too much turkey.

and give thanks for all you have.

rocket ships

2011-11-14T17:49:00.002+01:00

My boys are coloring more these days. Preschool "homework" kind of does that.
It's teaching us all to slow down, and relax. Teaching these high energy boys to be calm and think and color and create... instead of bounce, and jump, and destroy.
Crayons are pulled out and left out; actually used on paper and put back in the box.
Respect, I guess- for the art. for momma's sanity. for quiet afternoons putting ~~pen~~ crayon to paper.

Cade is learning to respect his big brother. Cade has always been bigger than Austin. Cade overpowers Austin, has a little more force, gets a little more attention because he's the baby...
Cade was proud to show me he also drew a rocket ship, just like Bubba! Just as the role should be... Little Brother looking up to Big Brother... instead of Little Brother biting Big Brother over a toy.

I sit and I look and I'm happy to see their minds working to create. Happy to see them learning from each other and encouraging each other. They draw houses with wheels, and a Christmas tree hanging from the ceiling, and a rocket ship for a front door. The stories they tell lead me in, and draw me into their world- just like a book...

I wonder when I'll steal a moment to put pen to paper... fingers to keyboard. I wonder when I'll draw from encouragement and come back to this place to write and tell stories and paint pictures with my words.
I want to to tell you. I want to let you in.
But for now?
I listen to their stories. I choose purple and blue and green and I draw squares and rectangles and a moon for the rocket ship to land on. I'll put crayon to paper, because my thoughts are too jumbled to paint a picture.
These days? I'm much more suited for preschool homework....

Excuse me, while I sit at a too small picnic table, with boys who are growing too fast...

yellow

2011-11-10T16:05:00.000+01:00

look at the stars,

look how they shine for you.

and everything you do,

yeah, they were all yellow....

[Coldplay, Yellow]

You Capture: Fall

choices

2011-11-02T10:23:00.001+01:00

how do you choose between

what could be

and

what might be?