Pride winning out for me. Roy sent me a link to a website, Navy For Moms, and it’s been helpful.  I’ve been gathering up information about PIR (Pass In Review-their graduation from boot camp)-where to stay, car rentals, etc. There are overviews of what the kids do at boot camp, when they might be able to call, etc.

And it’s wonderful. It’s nice to get information from Mom’s who have been there.  And yet it hard too.

When it got to the point where i realized that Joe would be leaving soon, I realized I had two choices: 1) I could cry and cling to him or 2) I could enjoy the last few months I had of him being at home full time.

I like to think I chose two.  And again I think a big reason was because of the type of person Joe is-he’s got a big heart, and he’s the type that would rather hurt than hurt someone else/see them hurting.  I knew my fear, sadness, or whatever else i was feeling would rub off on him and that’s NOT what he needed when it came time to take this new path.

Nuke School isn’t going to be easy-it’s elite, it’s tough, and he needs to feel secure, motivated and confident to succeed. 

Sure, I still cry on occasion.  We have a five bedroom house, and right outside the door to each of the bedrooms we have pictures of the kids. Addi’s room has Addi’s picture next to it. Today, Roy moved Joe’s picture and hung up Dean’s-it’s now Dean’s room.

Dean has bunk beds, and I thought it would be cool if Joe slept there when he came home, Dean loves the idea of having Joe sleep there, but it’s still HIS room.

I did laundry today, and there was nothing that belonged to Joe. No, basketball shorts or gym socks-nothing. And it was a reminder that he has moved on.

And though it hurts, and I miss him dearly, I find the pride is surfacing more readily now than the tears. The more I read about Nuke school the prouder I become-this is a big deal!  And Joe is going to attend!

Hayden now has his own room, and Dean is not sitting in his booster seat at the table any more-there are only six of us, usually five as Corey works five days a week now. And I’m finding my own way.

I got a job-it’s only about 15 hours a week at our local grocery store (I’m working at Customer Service/Cashier) but it’s perfect!  I’ll leave early, but be home to get the younger boys off the bus, help with homework and cook dinner, things that are very important to me.  And I’m so excited about actually buying Roy something for his birthday with money I earned!  It’s been a long time since I could say that!  It isn’t a lot of money, or a lot of hours, but this fits perfectly into what I want right now.

Joe knew about the job before he left, and when I told them I got the job he gave me a hug and a high five. All the little boys have said they will be good-Addi and Corey assured me they will help out when I’m working during the week as Roy also has to work. It’s feels good.

And wouldn’t you know it-I’m writing about how strong I’ve been, and I started crying as I typed this!  Oh well, I’m getting better.

Over two years ago, Roy and I drove our son to the navy recruiter’s office.  NOT to enlist-he’d already done that the previous year. No, we took him there to say goodbye.  Joe was about to start this journey with the US Navy.

Proud can’t begin to describe how we felt, but as a mom-all I could see was my little boy.  The little boy that used to be afraid of the water, the one that loved to go to the store for a 'candy bomb.’ (what he used to call a candy bar)  

That little boy was 18, and about to leave home.

What the next two years brought was intermittent phone calls, an occasional letter-late night or early morning texts.  Joe was going through a rigorous program that would take the better part of two years. Breaks were few and far between, time off came during the dead of night.  

But he hung in there-he pushed, and he pulled, cried and fought and he finished the program.

And at nine thirty last night-he walked in the door. Home for a month!

Corey doesn’t have classes during the summer-and though he works alot, he is here.

Hayden and Dean are home for the summer, and in a few short weeks Addi will get back from visiting his grandparents.

What does this mean you ask?

It mean, this mom of five boys will have all her babies at home! For a few glorious weeks-all our boys will be back under one roof!

I’m so happy right now, I could burst!

I’ve been absent for a bit-we were getting ready to send Joe off to Boot camp, and from there he would go down to Charleston, SC for Navy Nuke School.

And it’s hard! SO very hard. I didn’t want my blog, something I’ve enjoyed writing for years to be months of me crying and weeping that I was going to miss him, so I kept to myself a bit. We helped him clean out his room, get his accounts in order, and just get ready.  I peppered him with little tidbits here and there.

“Please make sure you eat healthy, ok?” I would tell him over breakfast, “Eat some fruits and vegetables, promise me?”

“Stay away from those girls that are just looking to marry a guy in the military, ok?”

“If you need help with laundry, just give me a call.”

And to his credit, he rarely snapped at me, and he promised me he would do all those things. If he needed help with his nuke classes, he would ask for it, and he would study hard.

He promised that he would write, and call when he could.

I told him he had to make time for fun too, I don’t want him burning out. He promised he would, and that he would make friends.

I want him to be 18!  Nuke school is the top (and forgive my bragging here a bit!) 10% of Navy recruits!  The top 3% of high school seniors are the qualifiers here, and our Joe is one of them!  I know the school is grueling, the hours are long, and at the beginning the pay off might seem far away, but in the end, if he finishes this school, he’ll be set. This type of training can translate into a good job in the private sector if he chooses not to make the Navy his career.

But he’s still only 18. The boys he will be going to school with, and they are boys, will be his age or just a few years older. They need time to be kids, and I hope they take advantage of their liberty-responsibly!-but they need that time.

And yesterday was the day.

Driving down to the recruiting station I thought back to exactly one year ago.  We were on our way to a family vacation in Gatlinburg, TN. I looked behind us as Roy drove-Joe was asleep, they younger boys either staring out the window or playing games.

“I only have a year left with him.” I told Roy, choking on the already present tears.

Roy reached across the seats and gripped my hand, “We still have a year.”

And we tried to make sure Joe was ready-we made memories, and pushed him to get his license. We made sure he prepared himself physically, and encouraged him to get a job to save some pocket money.  

We kept on top of him, it was his senior year after all, in regards to his grades.  And before I knew it, he was graduating.

“We still have a month.” Roy told me.

And we watched movies, went to  the ‘water hole,’ and I fixed his favorite foods. And that month became a week, and that week became 24 hours.  

I struggled-do I pack as much as I can into those final 24 hours at home, or keep things normal-as Joe is the type to appreciate normality.

I decided to keep things normal. I let him sleep in-as surely days of sleeping until 10 am will be few and far between.

I did make a big breakfast-it was Corey’s 20th birthday too, but I kept it simple. Corey’s favorites, and everyone around the table.

For dinner I made something I figured everyone would like-but it wasn’t a five course meal.

And I think Joe appreciated it.  It was a final day of being taken care of by mom. He played with his younger brothers and assured Dean that he could have his room when he left.  He took out the dogs and watched a silly movie with Roy and I.

And then, when he finally went to sleep I crept into his room at around 2 AM. It was the last night this would be HIS room.

Sure, he’ll come home, but barring an emergency (knock on wood) Joe has chosen his path and is finding his way. And because this is how things are supposed to work, I have to let him go.

And I did, though there was some tears on my end. Joe is just like Roy in this respect-he’s a rock, a stone wall, but he hates to see his Mom hurting. So, I tried not to cry in front of him too much. I didn’t want to make him feel guilty for being excited, for looking forward to this next step in his life.

But I couldn’t help it yesterday.  We didn’t have much time in the recruiter’s office. We got to say goodbye, and then Joe was off. I know Roy purposely wanted to not prolong anything-the more upset I got, the more upset Joe would get. And that isn’t any way for him to start this amazing new phase in his life.

I hugged him,  and had trouble articulating what I wanted to say:

That we were so proud of him. That no matter how hard things get, we know he can do this. That despite being bigger than me, he’ll always be my little boy.

I wanted to tell him that I loved his big heart, and his amazing kindness. I wanted to thank him for making me laugh over the years, and for being a truly wonderful big brother.

I wanted to tell him that he was taking a piece of my heart with him, and that I love him more than he would ever know.

But all I came up with was, “Be careful, and do your best.”

Roy hugged him next, and I couldn’t hear what he said, but Joe turned to me again, hugged me and whispered in my ear, “I love you Mom.”

I felt his arms around me, and remembered the little boy that would hug my legs and ask me for a ice pop. But these arms were strong, and I wanted to cling to him for just a moment longer.

“I love you too sweetie. So very much.”

Roy put his arm around me and said to the recruiter, “Take care of him for us.”

And I felt the tears course down my face, as I saw him smile and wave at me one more time before the door closed.

The ride home was quiet. I looked out the window, and remembered so many things: His smile, how excited he was to graduate. His pride at being accepted to this program.

When we got home, Roy said he was proud of Joe.

I nodded and Roy took me in his arms, “It’s going to be ok, honey. He’s going to be great.”

I just nodded.

When we were dropping Joe off, one of our favorite songs came on the radio. “Carry On Wayward Son” by Kansas.

“Are you kidding me?!” I said, and the three of us laughed. 

Joe’s not wayward. He’s not unpredictable or volatile, he’s a rock. A calm port in the storm, just like Roy.

And Roy reminded me of something yesterday, and no doubt he will again:

Joe is finding his way down that path we call life, and we should be proud of him.

But still, when I walked into his room this morning, and looked around, it felt strange. He wasn’t at his desk, in fact his computer is gone-he sold it to a friend that couldn’t afford a brand new one. The books he wants to keep have been boxed up, and stored in our basement. The clothes he didn’t want passed down to the younger boys. All the little things that made it his room-are gone. Either packed up, passed on or thrown out.

I stood there, and looked around and the tears came again.

This is what happens next. The kids move on, and I have to hope we did all we could to get them ready for whatever comes next.

But still-I miss him so very much. I see his face in my mind constantly, and it sucks that I wont’ get to see it every day anymore.

So, everyone IS on FB! We found out that Navy Boot Camp has a FB page, and Roy and I eagerly ‘Liked’ it. They occasionally post random pictures, have contests to get a picture of your Sailor’s Division, etc.

Today, they posted about 50 pictures, and though Joe wasn’t in any of them that we could see, one thought ran through my mind as we clicked through:

“They’re just babies!”

My father was career Army and we grew up around military bases. I was a teenager on the last base we lived on, and I remember my parents telling my VERY clearly, “NO dating the younger soldiers." 

My girlfriends and I looked at these guys and saw them as 'the older guys.’

And now, our son’s one! The kids he went to school with, played video games with, ordered pizza with-THEY are the soldiers!

It blows my mind!

And I feel old…

This is a sticky situation for me. I have five boys-they are all good kids for the most part, so I like to think I’m doing something right. On the other hand, I only have boys, and I can tell you from experience this past year with our niece we learned first hand that there ARE differences between boys and girls.

Oh, sure a lot of it’s the same. All kids want to know they’re loved, they want attention, they want boundaries set, and they want to eat, but a lot of it was different. For me the big thing was the hair. I’m pretty simple with my own hair, I have boys-three of whom have buzz cuts, and all of a sudden here is this little girl wanting braids and pigtail-ARGH!  I’m a failure in that department. 

Though I do think some of the differences Roy and I noticed had more to do with simply growing up in our house vs not growing up here.

I have a BIG bark-when I get mad the kids get scared, but for the most part my annoyance fizzles out pretty quickly. The boys know that, it took our niece some time to get used to that.

We have a hectic household-five kids, a dad, a mom, three dogs, fish, etc, etc…my niece is an only child.

Environmental issues, if you will.  One would think that I would be ok dishing out advice, and I always have an opinion on things, know doubt about that, but actually giving advice is tough. I know what works for me, I know my kids, my household, but I might not know your’s.

And so I wonder, am I the only one that stresses something to the tune of, “Well, this worked for ME…” just so that I can acknowledge that I understand my way isn’t always the right way?

On another forum that I am active in, a simple question often leads to long conversations about how the original poster is parenting wrong, and yet no real details were given. Nothing specific was said, and yet complete strangers feel the need to dissect and dismember the OP and turn it into a platform for their way of parenting.

I realize that sometimes it’s easier to do that online. You can hide behind your anonymity. The consequences to your ‘advice’ will most likely be nothing more than some harsh words from another poster, most of us can handle that right?

But in 'real life’ our advice can have much more concrete consequences. A friend’s hurt feelings, a spouse’s tears, or depending on what was said, anger.

Nope offering parenting advice is a crap shoot, one that often times isn’t worth the risks-unless a child is in physical, emotional or mental danger-then you have to roll the dice.

Proud Mom of a US Navy Sailor!!!!

When Joe left for Boot camp, Roy found a website for Navy Moms/Wives/Girlfriends, and though I’m not very active on it, they do stress OPSEC rules (basically, I can’t talk about much concerning my son and his Navy career…to keep it simple).

So, without giving away too much, I’ll just say:

ROY AND I ARE THE PROUD PARENTS OF A US NAVY SAILOR!!!

We are actually getting ready to head on up to the Chicago area for Joe’s graduation, and I can’t wait to see him!

When we got the call from him saying his Ship was done, and that they passed their final test, we were so proud, I was almost speechless!  Hard to imagine I know!

We’ve always been proud of Joe - proud of all the boys. He’s a hard worker, he always puts his best foot forward, and he’s always been more than willing to help others. Teamwork, or more importantly asking for help has not always been his strong suit, and yet to make it through these last few months, he’s had to do just that.

We saw boys get hurt, get sick and some went home because they were having a hard time being away, things happen, and not everyone is able to get through it-and that’s ok, but I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a small part of me that was relieved to have gotten that call. He made it!

I’m actually having a hard time focusing right now!!

In less than two days, we’ll get to see Joe!!!

And we keep on going.

Number 3 is from our first lady, Michelle Obama.

3) Eat Dinner as a family-I agree.  Simple as that.  Mrs. Obama, goes on to say, that sometimes the president will drop everything to attend family dinners.  In theory, this is a wonderful idea.  But why  imply that a family DINNER is what’s important?  Perhaps your husband is stuck in traffic, maybe your child’s basketball practice ran late, things can interfere, but making SOME time to be together is the goal here isn’t it?

Sometimes we have breakfast on Sunday morning together.  I get up, make pancakes and fruit salad, and we all sit around the table TOGETHER.  If breakfasts works for your family, do it.  Maybe after dinner, a ‘dessert time’ is doable.  IN the summer or school vacations, maybe lunch works.  It isn’t the fact that you eat dinner together that counts, it’s the fact that you are together.  Spend time with your kids, talk about your day, laugh together.

I think Mrs. Obama offers up a great 'thing’ I just think there’s more too it.

“So Easy-even Dad…or the kids could make it.”

This was seen in regards to a recipe in Family Circles latest issue.

Now, I just want to say this:

Just because YOU (meaning apparently the editor./writer./whomever) married a man that is apparently less than capable, don’t assume everyone else did as well.

And I say this in the nicest way possible, but this bugs the hell out of me!  Why is it assumed that men are less than capable in the kitchen?  I know plenty of men, my husband most certainly included that are MORE than capable in the kitchen, they are downright talented.  I can’t tell you how many times Roy has thrown together, not only something nutritious but pretty tasty when I haven’t been feeling well, or just didn’t feel like cooking. And now, that doesnt’ mean he pulled out the delivery menus.

NOT once have I felt the need to write out a “to Do” list for him on the off chance I wasn’t going to be hone, I was sick, etc.  I might remind him of the specific time Hayden has to be outside for the bus, but it isn’t because he isn’t capable of telling time, it’s because I’m usually the one up in the morning and pulling school duty.

No, men are just as capable as us, aren’t they ladies?  And it’s time the editors of Women’t DAy and Family Circle understand that.

About a month ago, Joe enlisted in the Navy.  (I actually think a few of his friends are jealous that Joe knows what he wants to do after graduation) He has a date for boot camp-July 8, 2014-and now he is just going to concentrate on his Senior Year.

Roy and I are so proud of him.  He knows what he wants, and he went for it.

He decided he wanted to go into the Navy’s Nuclear Engineering program-and he was ONE point short.  See, from what we were told the best of the best qualify for this.  Which means only a select few are able to enroll in this arduous program.  And our son wanted in.

He had to take a test to qualify, and in my mind I knew he would be fine.

But it was still AWESOME when he came back from the test and told me that he was in!

The look on Joe’s face was priceless, and I wish I had snapped a picture.

So, here’s to our boy-one of the best of the best!

Sooo, I make a pact with myself to spend more time giving in to my feelings of restlessness when it comes to writing…and than I don’t write for four day?  Go figure!

It could be because our timeline got moved up.

What timeline you ask?

Well, I’ll tell ya,  Hayden is a Freshman this year, Dean is in fifth grade-so he’ll start middle school next year, and Roy works about 60 miles from home. NOT horrible, until you factor in rush hour traffic.  Sometimes, Roy gets into the office in an hour an a half, sometimes it take twice that-my goal was to move the summer before Hayden’s junior year.  That would give him two years at a new high school, Dean would have two years at the middle school before moving into HS, but my husband is beat.  With the new position he accepted, he’s going in almost daily-and I know it’s hard on him.  So, we’re looking to move in just a few months!

Ugh, I said it out loud

We’ve been here so long, I forgot why I dislike the process.  Getting the house ready, finding a new house…and than there’s THE PURGE.

I decided to start small, something no one could have any say over-my closet.  I listed items on ebay, I put aside items for a yard sale-and felt accomplished until I looked at my closet.  Pretty sure it looks no different.  When did I accumulate so much stuff?  

To be fair, Roy’s side of the closet looks similar.  I tell the man he needs to purge and he gives me two t-shirts-out of the 50 he owns-though he only wears about 10.  He has a t-shirt that he wears constantly (I wash it, he wears it-vicious cycle) that I can see through-I kid you not.  It didn’t start out like that, he just wears it constantly!  To boot-it says Grooveshark (does anyone even remember what that is?) and he got it for free!  Not that there’s anything wrong with promotional swag-I love my pens, but when it’s starting to disintegrate, maybe it’s time to move on?

Now, for my case I realized I have way to many shirts with goofy sayings.  Some I bought for the specific purpose of basketball games-I have a few with sayings, or Hayden’s number, etc.  But most say ridiculous things like, “More Tacos please.”  I’m not sure why I need three shirts that say that-especially when all are just different shades of grey.  

And you’d think when the shirts hold no real sentimental value it would be easy to let go of-apparently, it is not.  You never know when you might find yourself in desperate need of tacos and maybe you’ve lost your voice?  I don’t know…

And let’s not even get in to my legging collection.  Now, in the winter I do wear them-daily for the most part.  I wear tunics and leggings, or a sweater and leggings, etc.  They’re warm and cute-the more colorful the better!  But I’m short, so specific brands fit me best-so why do I have pair after pair that are too big? 

I think there was a time when I bought clothes to make myself happy-I was feeling out of sorts, sad-and when I worked through that-I was left with a packed closet.  And so, THE PURGE commenced.

I truly hope the kitchen isn’t like this-or you’ll find me crying in the shower…