Sharing My Joy

Oh. My. Goodness! Living in this place is like being at an air show Every. Day. It have long been a fascination and a dream of mine to fly, and one day, I'll make the dream of a pilot's license come true. But when I was a girl, I always wanted to fly the jets - even before Top Gun made it "cool."

We live near a place where the jets fly around frequently and I am in Heaven. I run from room-to-room trying to track them down in the sun. I don't care how geeky that looks. I even think it's good for the kids to see enthusiasm in something, to see joy and excitement and to share that.

What gets you passionate for life? 

What makes your heart jump? 

What JOY do you find to share with those around you each day? 

When I was younger, I was moved one day - by what exactly, I don't know - but I threw my arms out from my sides and enjoyed the sensation of the wind and the joy of the moment. The friend who was with me at the time asked, "What are you celebrating?"

I had no response then. I was embarrassed for my moment of child-like joy and revelation (I was 18 and that wasn't "cool.") Now, how I wish I had said that I was celebrating LIFE and the JOY of the moment. That friend, though we are no longer in touch, would have understood. I pray to show my kids that having that kind of love for life and joy is "okay." And if someone else doesn't like it, does that person's opinion matter?

I'll get pictures of my plain-jane house up before long (when it's no longer plain), but for right now, you'll find me on the porch, soaking in mild weather, cup of coffee in hand and enjoying the noise and excitement of my own little Air Show.

Is it My J.O.B. or J-O-Y?

At 16, I never thought I  would be a stay-at-home mom. Heck, I never really thought I'd be a mom of my own at all. I was sure that my calling was to adopt a bunch of children and raise them. My thinking was, "Why should I have children of my own when there are so many other children out there who need help?"

Well, fast forward a loooong time (about 20 years or so) and I have my wonderful five now, and adoption might still be part of my calling, but is by no means all of what I am called to do in my life. And staying in the Navy for 20 years was not part of the calling either, though I once thought it would be. But staying home, nursing babies, teaching pre-teens, and keeping house for twenty years (and a lifetime beyond) is part of that calling.

Visiting Arlington - ("Honor" - part III)

This is, as you can see, the 3rd part in a series of posts about my day helping with Honor Flight, to see the first post, start here. Otherwise, I invite you to read on as we visit Arlington Cemetery with our World War II veterans!

When last we met in post 2, the vets and their Guardians were finishing up an hour-and-a-half at the WWII Memorial. We were fighting off protesters ("Anti-Tea Party") as they moved in great waves through, by and around the Monument.... Sorry - I did promise that for a later, non-Honor Flight related post! We'll get to those protestors later on.

Several of the veterans had on ball caps, old uniform jackets (they still fit fifty years later. Impressive!), old uniform hats or rank patches from their days in the service. With my own three vets, I had the pleasure of a five-minute discussion about whether or not the Navy uniforms still have bell bottoms on the pants. They asked questions about what various medals and awards indicated on the uniforms; they were moved by the PBS documentary that was shown about the building of the Monument while we were on the buses.

One thing I didn't know about the WWII Monument, though it doesn't surprise me to find out, is that Kilroy is on the side of the Monument that faces the Lincoln Memorial. So I will definitely have to check that out next time I am down there!

At 1:30, we mustered back up at the buses to load up for Arlington Cemetery and the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers. We boarded the bus and the vets received their free boxed Arby's lunches (sandwich, chips, fruit cup and yet another ice cold water and home made cookies), and we were on our way. Our previously broken down bus had returned so we were glad to be rid of the five blue shuttles, though having them earlier in the day had been a blessing - the alternative was to miss the day altogether!

The original plan had been to see Iwo Jima first - in the end, I was grateful that we came back to it. When we circled around Iwo Jima, another Honor Flight group (there were three in town) was already there snapping pictures and seeing the sights. I'll get to why it was better to be last later on. For now, on to Arlington - finally!

When we reached Arlington, our bus/group leader gave us some of the history of the Cemetery and the buildings we saw around us. He told us a great story about General Lee, the way that his house was taken over and the fact that he was the great-, great- nephew of General Lee. He then told us, as Paul Harvey would say, "the rest of the story," but so as to avoid butchering a really well told, funny tale from his family history, I will encourage you to join the Honor Flight for their ride into the city so you can hear the story in full from his own mouth.

We drove on up and unloaded across the street from Audey Murphey's grave. We crossed the street to see the grave of the Most Decorated War Hero of WWII. After taking pictures of that, we headed over to see the Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers. First my vet, his name was Chuck, needed to use the restroom. As we had about fifteen minutes left, we decided we had plenty of time. The only problem was that the restroom was on the right side of the amphitheater while the most available space to view the guards was on the left. Once Chuck emerged, we decided we could speed-walk to the other side and settle in. We had just over five minutes to the ceremony. Chuck really wanted to make sure he was there to see it so boy did I walk fast with that wheelchair! Being pregnant with number five, and worried too about tripping the chair on an uneven bit of pavement, I didn't go so fast as to be running, but we moved quickly and made it just in time.

The guard marked off his steps - 21 in all - twice before his replacement appeared at the far end of the guard area. The replacement guard stood through his inspection and the Sergeant came to the front center of the steps and in a loud voice announced his name and the all should remain silent, respectful and standing during the duration of the ceremony to follow. My vet struggled to his feet and stood as long as he could, as did several others of our 80- and 90-year old companions. Though a few took pictures, our vets were all silent, many doffed their hats; they were respectful and, as always, the ceremony was intensely moving to watch.

Each step marked off, 21 in all, day in, day out - even during a hurricane several years ago, when the men were told that they could stand down if they wished. All elected to remain at their posts.

(I hope you'll continue on with me in part IV, but this seems the best place to end Part III... so I shall.)

"Honorable" Intentions (Part II)

This post is part two of my Saturday as an Honor Flight guardian. To see the first part, head over here... Then read on below!

During the bus ride down into the city, I sat next to a man who was 80. He had been married to his wife for 65 years! I was so impressed with that. He told me that he almost had cancelled his trip because his wife had reached for his hand in bed earlier that week and they held hands for a while, he said, just stroking each others' fingers, and the next morning, his daughter came to check in on them to find his wife had lapsed into a coma. In spite of that, he had come at his daughter's insistence and showed me a picture of Morgan's Surrender Sword (from the Civil War,) that he said he had dug up out of his yard. He told me other things as well, but he was a little difficult to hear at times because of the bus's engine being so loud.

We left off at the wonderful D.C. traffic jam in part one. I must say that those Honor Flight folks are right on the ball - once we broke through the main traffic jam, which was unavoidable, really, they managed to get National Park Police (Thanks, guys!) to come out and give us a police escort into the closed-off streets of D.C. so we could park right there next to the WWII Monument.

That part was fantastic and mighty helpful! Our "bus" (five replacement vans) alone held twelve wheelchair veterans that needed to be unloaded, gotten into their chairs, taken for latrine/head/bathroom calls and then to visit their monument. The crowds were unbelievable! We did get everyone unloaded (can I just say that I really was taken by how soft their hands were - like a newborn babies' hands) and headed for the bathrooms that were built alongside the WWII Monument. For once, I was glad to be on the girls' side! Normally the line out the door comes from the women's room, Saturday there were around 40 male veterans waiting for the men's facilities! We finally decided to speed things up a bit and did as the ladies do when the situation is reversed: we commandeered the women's room and siphoned some of the men that way. Trust me when I say that some of these guys looked about as uncomfortable as a pregnant woman waiting to go!

We did get some dirty looks from a few protesters who wanted into the ladies' room and whom we asked to wait. Meanwhile, to the side of the permanent restroom fixture, there were at least 30 port-a-potties that had been set up specifically for the protestors to use. I finally emerged from guarding the bathroom door until all of our men came out and it warmed my heart to hear three medics nearby (on hand in case of anyone getting hurt in the protests from heat exhaustion or whatever) ... discussing ... the protestors who had complained about our use of the ladies' room for the vets. Their take on it was that the port-a-potties were set up specifically for the protestors and that the vets who had fought in the war should have had every use of the restrooms that went with their monument. Made me smile.

My group had one Columbus guardian, myself, and three vets - one in a wheelchair, two walkers. When I got out of the restroom duty, they had disappeared. Crap. So I headed for the Monument itself to try to find them. What a mess! I will not ruin my commentary any more than needed talking about the behaviour of many of the protestors toward our veterans. That will be for a follow-on post that I have plans for. But suffice to say that finding my little group of four was going to be nearly impossible. So I grabbed a vet who had lost his group and we walked around the pool and he told me stories about the war, his wife and his garden back home. He was lovely to be with.

As we rounded off the circuit, we found his Columbus Guardian and he went back to his group. I remained behind, both looking for my group and helping "make a hole" (path) for the vets to move through the waves of protestors moving by. The man who started Honor Flight was on hand to help out and welcome the vets as well and they did have several tourists who stopped our men to ask for their pictures and shake hands. The men took group photos in front of the wall of stars, they shared their stories and laughed as they remembered the past. Some of the men even made mock passes at the ladies - they were mighty sweet. Mine gave me a kiss on my cheek and told me I was pretty. Flatterer.

More in part 3 - this part seems long enough for now! ....

A Matter of Honor... Part One

This last Saturday, I had the opportunity to help out in a program called Honor Flight. Regardless of where you are, I imagine there are ways to help, so it would be great of you to click the link above and check them out. This post is about my day with a wonderful group of World War II veterans coming to Washington, D.C., for a one-day trip from Columbus, Ohio.

I am going to start by saying that part of the reason I volunteered to do Honor Flight today was because I needed a good way to spend a Saturday and get away from some serious problems that I've been involved with in our church. The problems are out of my control, but no less worrisome and sad. This day was one of the best cures I could ever have experienced. I loved every minute of it and will definitely go help again - without waiting for a day when I need a distraction!

The day started out early, well, for a Saturday, anyway. I was supposed to be at the airport to "mingle" with the other "Guardians" who had worked with Honor Flight before, get questions answered, and get our passes to go past security to the gate. All of the people who were there to help the vets were called "Guardians.") I arrived a little early so that I could go to Subway and get a sandwich for my lunch. I could have paid $6 for a boxed lunch from Arby's, but that doesn't work so well for a vegetarian! As I stood there waiting in the Subway line, I was acutely aware of the time ticking by, making me late. One guy was texting, one guy was standing at the register, neither said a word to me! Finally, the guy texting stopped, and began to scrub vigorously on a cooker of some sort. I was pretty glad a few minutes later when the guy at the register was the one to come make my sandwich! (That's a side-rant. I add it in now to illustrate my hectic morning - there was so much more to the morning, but too detailed to put on one blog post!)

Once I joined up with the Honor Flight group, they checked off my name and gave me a pass to get past security. Honor Flight has been operating for about five years now and so have a pretty good working relationship with BWI by now. It made things much easier! They had already made arrangements for us to bypass the loooooong security lines and go through the section for employees and flight personnel. We still had to remove our shoes, etc., but it was still much faster that way.

Once we reached the gate (A-2 in our case,) we lined up with the uniformed military personnel who had come out from Ft. Meade positioned closest to the door where the vets would emerge from the plane. As they exited the plane, each one was cheered and applauded, hands were shaken all down the line and pictures were snapped. One vet in an old Navy hat, with a black ring around the top rim (a special designator, no longer in use, as I understand it,) wanted to have a picture with all of the Navy guys there.

Once we had all the men - and a few ladies! - off of the plane, with their escorts from Columbus, we headed out of the secure area to wait for our three buses, which would take us to Washington, D.C. There were protests going on in DC Saturday - an "Anti-Tea Party" rally and a gay pride parade, I believe, so I wondered how we were going to get these old boys close enough to the monuments that they would be able to walk the distance. I needn't have worried!

One bus broke down (the one for yours truly, of course!) so after some wrangling, we herded our guys with their Columbus Guardians onto five transport vans and headed off down I-295. We were going along at a pretty quick pace until we hit construction and Rally traffic just past I-495, which runs around the perimeter of Washington, D.C. Then we bogged down for about 20 or 25 minutes.

To keep these posts from getting overwhelmingly long (I know I tend to be wordy!) I'll break this into a couple of sections. I so enjoyed the day that I want to get in as much detail as I can - with hopes of encouraging others to join us next time!

Embracing Your Purpose - II

So now that I'm almost another year older, and far wiser, what goals have I for myself? Where am I going next? How am I getting there? I am determined to be debt free (except for the house) by my 36th birthday in 2012 - for that, we have started following Dave Ramsey's program and advice (again, there is another blog post in that, but that is for another time!) As a side note, his program has helped I don't know how many thousands of people and can be found here: www.daveramsey.com - it is worth every penny.

I'm determined to get the many schedules that run my life into a working order that can be synchronized and followed. I don't have a program for that (many use flylady.com though, if that is something you're struggling with but it didn't work so well for me about ten years ago; perhaps I should try it again...) Right now, I see many parallels between the house/clutter-freedom and the budget/debt-freedom. I'm working from that point - but there is one other very important thing that goes with these two goals:

I have learned that, in my own life, to make these two goals happen, I need to stop worrying about working outside of my home at everyone else's projects, at every other volunteer opportunity that comes up that may - or may not - be edifying to my family and me, at every piece that I think I "should" be doing to take some of the financial-breadwinner burden off of Jeff's shoulders.

He has never - ever - said a sideways word about my staying home or about being our primary source of income. The pressure I feel in that comes entirely from within me. The pressure is there, nonetheless, and I am learning that my first job is house and family - there is plenty to do there. My second job is Heritage Transcriptions, in which I get to write memorial books for the families of the fallen members of our military. That is a labor of love. I feel more fulfilled in my life by doing them.

Otherwise, I must be content with "just" being a stay-at-home-mom. I must ignore the looks, the questions, the ugliness that we SAHMs get when we are out and about, especially the looks that see four children and inquire, "Don't you know when to stop??"

For the record, we do know when to stop, but we've decided to love and enjoy all that we're given. Though I am religious and a Christian, I'm not a "quiverful," Bible-thumper type of person: each family has to make its own choices. This is what works for our family, but here is the irony about our having children and choosing to have - or not have - those children with which we are blessed:

Indulge me for a minute in a side-rambling, please: Is it "irony?" I am a little nervous about using the word because of the song by Alanis Morrisette - Ironic - I read an article by a professor after it came out in which the professor said that nothing in the song was ironic; that everything she mentioned in the song was just bad luck! ... isn't it ironic? Don't'cha' think?? So anyway... end side-rambling now. Read on and weigh in...

Here is my sister working with Buttercup in our garden earlier this year. She doesn't plan to have children right now, and I am content to let her be the great-aunt-type to mine! She does a great job!

So here is the possible irony in our having children: when I was sixteen, like many girls, I declared my intention to adopt many children - a busload of them - and never have any of my own. Why would I want to have children of my own when there are so many out there already who need help?? Then I met Jeff and he wanted children - at least one or two - and so we compromised. We would have a couple few bio-babies, then we would adopt at some point in our lives together.

Well, we're up four children and I love them all and wouldn't trade them for anything. They are part of my super-blessed life and to those who would say that I am helping with the "overpopulation" of the world, I say this: which child would you want put back? Which human being would you get rid of? Ponder that, then talk to me. And adoption is still on the table and something we plan to do in our lives.

So what does all of this have to do with "embracing your purpose?" Only this: sometimes, our purpose in life is not really what we might have thought it was. Maybe, just maybe what I want/ed was not what was best for me or where I was really heading in my life and I just didn't know it. Learning to pray, learning to listen for the answer, learning to wait and knowing that what is coming is ultimately leading me to where I need to go to fulfill my purpose in life, gives me peace and makes every step of the way count.

If my purpose is to be a great stay-at-home-mom, who bakes, sews/crochets and does the domestic goddess thing, and on the side, I get to support military folks and their families by writing memorial books, I am at peace with that. It is not what I envisioned when I joined the Navy all those years ago - and it is still on my heart to one day learn to fly, just not F-16s (for the reference to that, go to Embracing Your Purpose - I), but it is where I am now and what I truly believe I have been led to do. In the future, when my children leave home, who knows what my purpose will become? But every moment of what is happening now is leading me to that purpose, whatever "it" is.

Each of us needs to ask similar questions, determine our purposes and learn to embrace who we are. If you don't feel like you're in the right place, make changes to become who you're supposed to be. But consider whether your purpose might not be very different than what you once envisioned and that attitude makes a huge difference in our happiness within that purpose.

As my mother used to say when we asked (whined!), "Do I have to?"

Pause for the big smile, "You get to."

Embracing Your Purpose - I

This is my crew. This is the group that makes every day worthy of a smile and a nod as I get up to search, bleary-eyed, for a cup of joe. I count every day with them a blessing because one day... all but Jeff will be gone. I need to enjoy each minute for what it has to offer because someday I'll look back with nostalgia even as I enjoy those future minutes. I don't need to continue (re-)living my "best" years from high school. Those minutes are gone. Here is where I need to be and where I make sure I am.


It was not always this way. I had to learn that lesson over a long time - not wasted time, because it did teach me the lessons I needed to know, but a long time...

When I was young, I joined the Navy, married, had Maestro, our first child, left the Navy and then... floundered. From my earliest memories, being in the military was all I had ever dreamed of doing. I wanted so badly to fly the F-16s. That part of my dream for life is the only part that did not come to pass.

What was to come after the military, I never gave much - any - thought to. I was going to stay in the military for 20 years, what did I need to think about? But I left the Navy when our oldest was 14 months old. In staying home with our son, at first, I was pretty miserable. I was lonely in that Georgia town; I stayed home with a 14-month old boy, pregnant with a second, and had no further aspirations than those that had already passed and been done with. My adventures were over at 23.

When our second son was four months old, we moved from Georgia to Maryland. The children, pets and I all went west to stay with my in-laws in Denver. Here is how that conversation went:

Me, talking to my father-in-law Jeff, who had always told us "if you ever need anything, just ask:"

Me: Hi, Jeff. You've always said if we need anything to just ask, and I know this may not be what you meant, but we're moving to Maryland and the kids and animals and I need a place to stay for a while until Jeffery (my husband) finds a house for all of us.

Jeff: Uh... Okay. How long are we talking about?

Me: I have no idea. We've never bought a house before, but I don't really think it will take longer than a month or two...

Now, I dearly love my husband's family. I am so blessed to be married into a family that I love and enjoy as much as my own birth-family, and my father-in-law and I get along very well, if I do say so myself. However, I'm preeetty suuure taking in his grown son's wife, two grandsons, three dogs (to which he is allergic), cat (also allergic), and six (at the time) birds was not quite what he meant when he said to just ask! My big, allergic, awesome father-in-law very nicely, and gamely said to come on out.

In the end, we stayed with him for about three months (Sept. - Thanksgiving) and Jeff found us a house. We stayed with my mom for the month of December until the New Year and then flew out to Maryland. In spite of being technically in a big city (Baltimore), the neighborhood is a throwback to the 1950's. There is an active Neighborhood Watch, there a lots of children on our street and the next one over who are very well behaved, the families get together for block parties and bar-b-ques - we just generally all get along well in spite of political differences, religious differences, etc. In short, it's a great place to bring our children through their formative years.

But what did that mean for me? I still had no real aspirations or goals. I was drifting. I was determined not to stay miserable in our new home. In the seven years since then, we've lost all but two dogs and the cat remaining, the rest all passed on; we have four children now - three boys and a girl, and life is a swiftly flowing river, to borrow a phrase. I've tried various work-from-home ideas: mystery shopping, direct sales, etc. Each of those lasted about two years (including one direct sales thing I did in Georgia) and each of those reconfirmed that I am not a born sales(wo)man! The one job I have kept working at, albeit slowly is the memorial book company I started when Jeff was gone for a stretch. The project I have been working on for that company is another blog post - but not for now.

The point to all of this is that there has to be a "next" - what comes after all the goals you've set for yourself have been met? What is your next goal? What are you reaching for? What are you hoping/dreaming/wishing will happen in your lifetime?

The question that should follow next is what are you doing - or going to do - to make those goals and dreams realities? The answer should never be a heavy sigh, rolled eyes or an admission of defeat. Think about your "self talk" - those words you say to yourself that affirm what is great about you, and what you are capable of - or those little nasty thoughts that come out that slow you down and make life dreary. If you are doing nothing to get to your goals, letting self talk destroy your dreams and who you are deep down, or if you're not even setting goals, then you've sold yourself short; you've given up on using the wonderful talents God gave you; you've squandered that which you were meant, and made, to share with others.

I firmly and truly believe two things: 1) there is a job out there for each and every person who wants one that will be pleasing to that person - I have known several men who worked at the local garbage dump and truly loved going to work each day. THAT is what I'm getting at with number one. 2) Ten percent of the people in our population (so I read years and years ago) work in jobs that they love - L.O.V.E - be one of the 10%. Life is too short to remain part of the back 90%. Every day that you get up, you should smile because you're getting ready to go to work and you love it.

With my children around me to wish me good morning every day, with the home schooling, baking, crocheting, photography and writing I get to do each day - when my feet hit the floor I am ready ... for a cup of coffee...

Oh wait... for work! Yes! Ready for... zzzzz... cooofffeee... WORK and the excitement that being a stay-at-home-mom provides each day while I watch my children grow, learn and shine. There is no better place to be. We have goals we're working on, and that is in part II of this post, but I can honestly say that I have a charmed life. Whether we're up or down as a family, whatever is going on, I am at peace with where I am in life. I am happy knowing that even when I don't get my way, there is a reason and better is always just a step around the next corner. Now on to the goals and achieving them - found in part II...

"Joyful Busywork"

"Real joy comes not from ease or riches or from the praise of men, but from doing something worthwhile." Pierre Coneille

My boys were supposed to be working on a new schedule today. Math, reading, writing, chores, music - you know the drill. They knew the drill but didn't like it. So they hemmed and hawed, they procrastinated, Bruiser (the 5 yo) took out his new 1/8 size violin a hundred times - and Maestro took the full size out (no he does not play, yet!) to "help."

After a morning in which I worked harder than the boys - I was exhausted and ready for a nap. Buttercup, the 20 month old, was finally ready for a nap at around 11. The boys got to have some quiet play time while I put her down and took a 20 minute power nap of my own. Fast forward to the afternoon - time for laundry, four full loads of laundry to be brought upstairs, folded and put away. The laundry was brought up and Maestro mentioned wanting to get a good workout in, so he had brought up two laundry baskets up at the same time by himself.

Lightbulb!

I put one boy onto doing "side straddle hops" (jumping jacks), one to running stairs, one to push ups. They were working so hard that it was relatively peaceful for me to get the laundry folded before the commencement of "Operation Stuff Drawer," followed by "Operation Stuff Shirt" and "Operation Stuff Wardrobe." They enjoyed that all so much that they asked for more exercise to do afterward and were huffing and puffing from the exertion of it all.

So it begs the question. Why can't I find an equally engaging way to get school work done? I suppose my biggest hurdle is the knowledge that I could do all sorts of quizzes, games, puzzles and such to get the messages across and the lessons learned, but doing so takes huge amounts of effort and free time while I put such a plan and schedule together. (Time for a solo trip to Panera, I think!) Perhaps I'll make that happen on specific days, but on the "off" days, the boys are going to have to learn to make their own fun and find the joy in the process and love of the labor itself.

It took years for me to learn to enjoy the process of mowing the lawn, washing the dishes or picking up the living room; that lesson was hard one - and my turning moment came in having a friend profess to "love doing dishes." This friend is so joyful in her outlook and in the many, many activities she is involved with that I really admire her.

Her husband is away frequently for work, she has three boys and a young dog. She home schools, like we do, and is also involved with boy scouts and active in church and yet, she rarely looks tired or worn out and has often been ready to take my own children into her home for play time and fellowship. Perhaps I make others tired with my activity level, but she has been an inspiration to me and a great help. Most of all, she helped me change my attitude about work and what it means to be joyful in all that we do.

Ecclesiastes 2:24: There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment [1] in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God...

I believe in joyful work; and I believe that work is helpful for changing a bad attitude. In our house, it's called "working out the grumpus" and after about 30 minutes (sometimes involving my children wailing over their bad fortune or poor choices) they begin to ask for the next job to do, and with a joyful countenance. That is one of my primary goals for this home school year: work done in a joyful attitude coupled with happiness and peace with one another.