The Perfect Tree

My husband constantly reminds me that things don't have to be "perfect".And I constantly remind him- oh yes, actually they do.God knew what he was doing when he created a laid back-go with the flow- it's all good-type of guy with let's make a plan to plan-make it perfect-must be precise-can't ignore the fudged details type of gal.And its a good thing. Because me being married to me would be catastrophic.  But I have the best intentions. Honest. I see something and want to do my very best. Somewhere along the line, someone must have decided perfection was attainable, because I swear I kill myself every day trying to get there. No such luck as of yet.  So now that you know the background to my little saga and I've set the stage...here's what happened. Hallmark Version: My Soldier FINALLY has a day off when we can get a Christmas Tree.
So, as a Christmas enthusiast, I decide to make a day of it. We'll find a local tree farm and drive out. There will be rows and rows of beautiful trees to choose from like on the Hallmark Channel. The owners will have beautiful wreathes on display and homemade donuts and hot chocolate. If it snows, they even have a horse-drawn sleigh!! It will be a day of memories to be made and maybe finally I can get my easy-going hubby to get excited for once! He doesn't get into Christmas, or birthdays. or any holiday really... Real Life Version: We set out for the hour drive to the tree farm I found online. Our GPS thought it would be fun to have us do a few extra loops and swoops, you know- 30 extra minutes of bonding time in the truck. We finally reach our destination and pull onto the dirt road, my anticipation a mile high for the sight just over the hill. Rows and rows and rows of trees! All skinny, scrawny and all of 3 feet tall. Not entirely what I envisioned in my perfectly planned Christmas outing. No worries, we'll find that one perfect 6 foot tree on the lot. If it takes all day.We parked and walked into the little store filled with sweet smelling wreathes and pine cones.
There were homemade donuts, before someone ate them all. And there were hot chocolate packs if the water was hot. But still, no worries, the shop was filled with adorable ornaments, some homemade and others collected from various shops around the local towns. It was a Christmas ornament museum, but that would have to wait. Hubby of course is on a mission. We came for a tree. Divide and Conquer. Then leave.So we found an employee and asked how it worked. "How what works? What do you want to know?""Finding a tree...can we just have at it and drive the lot? Do you have saws? How does this work?""Saws in the red shed. Pick whatever and bring it down. We'll tag it." (and walks away)Ok then. Off to the red shed to find a saw! 20 minutes late after evaluating each and every row of trees, none even came close to catching my eye. Tiny and scrawny.This Christmas HAS to have a perfect tree.Next year I can have a 3 foot one....So back to the store we go. We'll just pretend we cut it down. Pick one of the pre-cuts that are taller.We picked a beauty. Tagged it, paid and asked if they had a baler to tie it.
"Yap. Hold on."....... "You're good." (and walks away) Fabulous customer service. Thank you for the treasured Christmas memories made...  Finally loaded in the truck, we begin the trek home (without the GPS' help)And I, being a perfectionist and a whiner, start to complain about my dashed dreams.And My Soldier, being a fixer and mood lightener, starts to make jokes about Christmas traditions.Silly ornaments, stupid irritating lights that give seizures, sticky trees and inflated gift giving...all to try and make my unattainable vision sound less dramatic and not a "big deal"...My mission for Christmas excitement. fail.So I sulk. And apologize that I dragged him half way across the state for a dumb tree that we could have picked at the end of our street where they set up shop for trees and wreathes to be sold. I decide to shake it off and delve into dreaming of what our tree will look like with our new decorations and sparkling white lights. At home we unload, bring the tree in and set it up in our brand new stand. Our brand new stand which doesn't work because the base is wayyyyy too big.And my amazing hubby runs to the basement to return with several small blocked pieces of wood.He makes a shim to support the tree and accommodate for the abnormally wide base.Its perfect!! Perfectly smelling, perfectly straight,perfectly 6 foot beautiful Christmas tree! We put on the lights, the garland and decide to wait until after dinner to finish with the ornaments.It was then that I realized, a slight, um...tilt of the tree. Gradually, little by little sliding towards the wall. No one would ever know unless you walked across the room to admire it from another angle. But its still crooked. A crooked Christmas tree.So what do I do? Sulk. Its not perfect, its crooked. We need to fix it. So we tried, screw bolts in tighter, turn the tree to different angle. Add another support block of wood. Nada. I just wanted it to be a perfect tree, for a perfect Christmas while he was home. I wanted to look back and remember this year and smile. And you know what my sweet husband said?It is baby. It is perfect because I am with you.We have a beautiful tree. We made memories that we'll laugh about forever.There is nothing missing. Its perfect. And you know what? He's right. We have a perfect, crooked Christmas tree. One I will never forget the memory of decorating it with My Soldier.And I love it. 

   

If I'm asked ONE.MORE.TIME....

I don't often get intensely personal in my posts,mostly because, its scary.In fact, I haven't since this post It's nerve-wracking to air all your secrets on public clothes-line strung up across the world for everyone to see. But a dear friend once told me that if you can name your fears, well then they aren't so big anymore. so I'm going "to punch it square in the face" and maybe it will loosen its annoying grip.  No one, and I mean no one knows this. except for my best friend. (but everyone knows that not telling secrets excludes your best friend unless specified right?) My Soldier and I have been married almost 3 years. We're mid twenties and have years ahead of us. and yet its EVERYONE's favorite question. It doesn't matter if we are in the commissary talking to the cashier, at church chatting with friends, or bumping into old aquaintances while running errands. But my favorite is when its your family. or his. That ask every.single.time.you.see.them.  And I calmly smile and pull out a diffusing answer. to get them to shut up.when I really just want to flip.my.top.like a tea kettle that has sat on a hot stovetop for a few minutes, steaming and whistling and threatening to blow.  It's gonna happen. If I'm asked.ONE.MORE.TIME. "So when are you two going to start having children?""Don't you want to hold a cuddly little baby and know you created them?""You don't have any children YET?""Oh- are you waiting for some reason?""You probably just want to keep your hubby to yourself right? Just don't wait too long!"" I understand, you want to wait until he's sure to be home and not deployed right? Well, you know honey- there is never any assurance if he's in for the long haul." And my favorites after I've calmly pulled out some statement like, "we've got our hands full with a puppy right now!" and "we've only been married for 3 years, and we're barely mid twenties. there's no rush!" or my fall back if nothing appeases them, "well, I'd like to wait until I'm sure I won't be single parenting for the first year of their life" : "Oh, well I guess it is the Lord's timing. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to have a baby""Oh no! Don't wait, its so much easier to have someone else to care for through deployment. Then you won't be sitting around the house lonely and miserable""Well, if all else fails- there is always adoption and you are the perfect couple to love another child as your own!" So I bite my tongue and smack a fake smile on my face.When want I really want to do is scream at them and blurt the truth. We have tried. and tried. and tried.And its not happening. and they say nothing is wrong. And He doesn't want to try any more right now. so seeing a doctor again is pointless.And every single time you ask that question you are ripping my heart open and stabbing me in the gut.And yes, I'm happy for all of my friends who got married after me that are happily starting a family, thanks for pointing that out by the way. And can you please. just. stop. talking about it.And of course I want to carry life and see my husband in our children. Of course I think about getting older and him leaving me all alone when he deploys again.And I'm very well aware that you want to be a gramma. Don't you think I want to be a mother?Can't you see that I'm at the brink of tears or fuming every time you bring it up?And why is it, that every single person wants to announce how many of their friends are having babies right now? or have just found out that they are pregnant. I am done. I can't take it any more. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want everyone to know and talk about it themselves.But the asking has got to stop.The pressure has got to stop.Because if I'm asked ONE. MORE. TIME. I might just die.  {so much for punching fear in the face huh?}{maybe next time...} 

Excel Sheets in Real Life

I wish that every sequence of military life came with a warning label.This way when you start your first Christmas shopping excursions, it won't smack you upside the head in the middle of the store that Christmas is only 9 weeks away.... and then "next" year isn't really that far anymore ... Or when you're sitting in church for Wednesday night service you won't count the chapters of our Revelation study and realize you might have to mail the recordings for him to finish it too. And wouldn't it be amazing to have a warning label that all things change no matter how "official" they may be. or wait- is it that or official word is "official"? we play that side too... I don't quite know what to do with myself lately. Plan and make to-do lists or take it a day at a time and wait. Fast forward or pause. Because both work. and I hate that. I am your classic miss type A. I have a love affair with excel spreadsheets, checking the boxes (with a pink pen, of course), schedules and lists of requirements are my happy place and I am in my fluffy comfort-zone when I know exactly.what.to.do.   WARNING LABEL!  So this is where I need some feedback from my dear military wives.What are your methods for dealing with the upcoming "unknowns"? I'm accustomed to the count downs, the monthly markers and the events to check off along the way. But what about the moments in between? When you only have a glimpse of what's around the corner and you aren't liking the view? How do you make the list of "last ..." and "before ..." moments fun and enjoyable when its a constant ticker reminding you of what is to come? I pretty much feel like I'm loosing my mind these days and keeping it "under wraps" and explaining my drama isn't so easy. (you know this- we all like to pretend we're Army Strong and won't crack unless its behind closed doors)  I just need to know. A or B. East or West. One way or another. ...because I'm a type A and I need to type A!  

Makin' Progress

I have been working on adding a business page and making some updates around here... It's coming slow but steady. Check out my new page here. And yes- stay tuned for the rest of the changes. Come on, you didn't really think this was a legitimate post did you?  



Somewhere between shock, panic and ticked...

I didn't sleep much last night, so forgive the jumbled speak.

We got some news yesterday, I knew it was coming.
But I was braced for X information and instead I was blindsided by ABC details instead.

There I was standing in the Christmas Tree Shoppe with my mama when I got the call from My Soldier. He had been in briefings all day...
And then the roof collapsed on my head.
And I feel like someone punched me in the solarplexus somewhere around 2pm and I have yet to catch my breath.  I'm just not ready to say goodbye again. I wasn't prepared for my turn so soon...I can't share the details of course, OPSEC. 

Could I ask my blogging family for prayers? I need some today.

 
  "When our hearts do not feel that God is still in control, we must consciously dwell on the truth of the Scriptures with our minds. Our thoughts can either drain our energy and cripple us, or be a source of strength when we meditate on God's Word."


 

Wordless Wednesday

 

 Courtesy of the lovely Dana B.http://newlywedsdiaries.blogspot.com/   

That feeling when you sign your 30 page mortgage agreement...

Yesterday I officially joined the mid-20"s club.
And of course, My Soldier was MIA.
Drill weekends and TDY usually fall around holidays and birthdays.
Of the 4 years we've been together, we've shared just 1 birthday celebration each.
That's just how it works right?

I did get a present from the Army though.
A text message from my hubby saying he has 1 day to decide to re-up.
24 hours to plan the next __# years...

His service date is in June, so we thought we had several more months.
On one hand, I can not imagine a life without the military.
On the other... "normal" life, with a hubby at home. always. hmm....

But the gut-kicker was this: re-up and get a nice little bonus.
OR get out next June and he won't go on the upcoming deployment...I think the thought of getting out gave me the butterflies more than re-enlisting,
but all I got from the conversation was:

He could stay home next year. We finally got to talk about it late last night and have decided to re-up.
The Lord has yet to call us somewhere else. And we both have peace about the decision.

But you know that feeling when you sign your 30 page mortgage agreement...it still kinda feels like that.

Because no matter how you spin it- we signed over the next ___# years of our lives.