Starting Over: 2017...a year of HOPE and TRANSFORMATION

Starting Over: 2017...a year of HOPE and TRANSFORMATION: HOPE AND TRANSFORMATION A NEW YEAR We are only into the second day of 2017 and I am reading everyones posts about what t...

2017...a year of HOPE and TRANSFORMATION

HOPE AND TRANSFORMATION

A NEW YEAR

We are only into the second day of 2017 and I am reading everyones posts about what they set out to accomplish this year. I have never been one to set New Years Resolutions and here is why: a) no one ever really sticks to them and sees them through, b) they are just merely words, and c) EVERYONE makes them! Even my dear hubby has made one this year...to eat less sweets...haha lets just say I'm not sure how long that one will last.

So it really causes me to reflect and contemplate about the kind of resolutions A.K.A changes, to make for this New Year. I have been in deep thought since December 31st...thinking about the past year and all the woes, suffering, disappoints etc. If we really seek change it has to be meaningful and has to help others...for some reason when we seek to only help ourselves our promises fall short. I have cleared my mind and have gone back to my roots...doing things that calm me, things I used to do before all the chaos. 

I used to use aromatherapy oils,  read my horoscope and believe in something bigger than me. I used to have a sense of spirituality that helped me look beyond the superficiality of the world and myself. I have gone back to my healing stones and tarot cards, to coloring and reading...to rediscover my old and new self. 

The other night I took to entering the disaster of my closet and dug out my stones and tarot cards, cleansed the stones and shuffled my deck...I gave myself a reading...the answer I wanted is not one that I received...but instead a new hope emerged.  My reading spoke of deep thought, burdens being lifted and a return to balance in my life. 

I must admit, when I woke this morning I returned to old patterns of 2016...but soon (after 3 cups of coffee and contemplation) began to feel hopeful. I am choosing to be gentle on myself by realizing that there will not be any grand transformations overnight. 

Rome was not built in a day!! 

I am choosing to be more mindful...choosing kindness and calm over my normal reactionary state. To focus on calm and the present, to keep my mind clear in order to allow more positivity and happiness to enter back into my life.

I have no idea where my career is heading or what my career may look like, I have no idea where my relationships with friends, family or my my husband may be headed, I am not making any promises to lose 20 pounds or change what I eat, no promises to make more time for self care or be more positive on social media....because when we make those promises we are setting ourselves up for failure...because sometimes those promises go unfulfilled because of things beyond our control and when we don't reach those goals we feel bad about ourselves or guilty. We set such high expectations, ones that are perhaps unrealistic, and then we are disappointed. We do such a disservice to ourselves and others when this happens.

Unless commitment is made, there are only promises and hopes... but no plans. Peter Drucker
(Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/p/peterdruck121122.html?src=t_promises)

Therefore I vow to make no promises, I don't plan on making any unreachable goals, I don't plan on making any resolutions. I only look upon this new year as a chance for change albeit big or small. I do want to be kinder, more balanced, less stressed, more positive...but what is good in just setting these goals without any action. I have goals and plans...but NOT resolutions. I'm not going to write a list that I may not be able to follow. I am going to be realistic, flexible and just go with the flow this year. I plan on being satisfied with what happens this year, the good, the bad, the ugly...whatever will be will be. 

If you must write a list make sure you are gentle on yourself and know that there are obstacles that may detour you. I wish you all a prosperous and healthy new year...a year of hope and transformation to you all! 

A Letter to My Family and Friends as my Husband Gets Ready to Deploy

I'm Sorry...Not Sorry

We've known this day would come again, when I would say goodbye to my husband for 7 months as he embarks on another deployment to an undisclosed location. It brings back memories of the last one which was only 2 years ago. That was my first "real" deployment I have experienced and it was "hell". Not only was it a last minute deployment ordered by the dear Navy, but we had just had a baby girl and I was recovering from an emergency c-section. I was also far away from all my friends and family and really struggling with becoming a stay at home mom of 4 children! 

I'm worried! Really worried! 

Not as much for his safety or my sanity, but for our marriage! The deployment of 2014 has had some really adverse affects on our marriage. During that time I suffered severe anxiety and extreme stress. I survived the deployment physically but emotionally I did not. The day I saw my husband off at the airport my heart shattered into a million pieces...and every time the baby didn't sleep through the night or when dear N got in trouble at school I would feel the pressure and blame my husband for not being here, for not being able to listen to my worries because there was only email communication and blame him for not being here to hug me at the end of a hard day. I blamed him for me being unable to be the best parent I could be and give attention to all 4 kids. Those hard days seemed bountiful and endless. I had good days where I felt like a warrior and thought I could totally handle this and maybe I was getting better at dealing with the loss I felt. It was like I was grieving! But that grief turned to resentment and bitterness. 

The bitterness and sour resentment never went away...even when he returned home 6 months later. I wasn't jumping for joy when that ship pulled in... it just made me feel more stress, more pressure to create a loving, joyous environment like nothing had ever happened...like he had never been missing from our lives for 6 months. I mentally and physically could not do it. I bit my tongue for the first few months and tried to be patient while we transitioned back to a family, but we never really succeeded in the transition category. Those 6 months he was gone was like a wedge that has pushed us further and further apart. It felt strange to hug him, his skin felt different, his kiss wasn't the same...I did not feel like this was my husband. Our communication over that six months didn't help bring us closer. All we did was complain, complain, complain. My emails consisted of everything that went wrong, how frustrated I was and all my fears that he would find someone on the ship to console him and take care of his needs...needs I could not fulfill. His emails consisted of some positive moments which I hated! I hated when he pulled into a port because it meant he was living a life without me, he was having fun and enjoying life without me and my fear that he would just move on without me. 

Transitioning for me just didn't happen...I hated having to relinquish any control. I didn't fully trust that he could take care of the house and kids the way I did. He didn't return with an attitude of being a helper. All the promises of help offered in emails never surfaced. I was the only one still getting up with the baby, still feeding the baby, still making dinner, still cleaning the whole house, still taking on all the driving duties! The anger surmounted inside me. I just wanted my husband back...the one that I didn't feel like I had to parent. The husband who took the initiative to do the dishes, take out the garbage or feed the family without being nagged or told.

I got so frustrated I started to think my family would be better off without me because every time dear hubby and I argued it always ended up being put on my shoulders because I was over reacting, or I was accusing, or I was the one starting the argument. Why was everything my fault? I'm the one that stayed behind, I'm the one that held these kids when they would cry, I'm the one that was here supporting his career and mine being a thing of the past. I'm the one who had to listen to the teacher negatively talk about N every day after school. I sometimes daydreamed about not existing, yes every one would be sad but they would get over it right?

It took along time for dear hubby to come to terms that our marriage was not okay...but again it was my fault because I couldn't accept that this is what his job entailed him to do. Therapy was useless because I was the only one talking and nothing changed. I went to therapy on my own and still no sense of accomplishment in dealing with any of these emotions regarding the deployment, our marriage complications and my frustrations. 

So now, I sit here, knowing my marriage is not on solid ground and that my husband will be leaving again. I'm not really sure how things will be over this period of time or what will happen after. There have been no tears from either of us this time around. No deep hugs, no desperation in spending time together, no terms of endearment. It makes me sad to accept that we are not in a good place before he goes away. The tears stream down my face right now as I tape because I have no idea exactly where our marriage will be when he returns next year. There will be no celebration on our 3rd anniversary this year, there will be no one there to help me shop for Christmas presents, and no real sense of ringing in the new year with him missing.

So dear friends and family...I'm sorry, NOT sorry that over the next 7 months I will most likely be suffering a more severe depression and anxiety period. I'm sorry, NOT sorry that I will be venting my frustrations to you about how much I hate life right now, about how much I miss being a family, about how homesick I am, about how inept the Navy is with their communication system that never works and causes so many issues with emails. I'm sorry, NOT sorry that I dislike the military life and how it has changed me into this empty, bitter person I have become. I'm sorry, NOT sorry that I am not good at asking for help or even receiving help for that matter. I'm sorry, NOT sorry that I will be a complete wreck as my husband departs on a dangerous journey during this phase of the war on terrorism. Many of you, if you already haven't will unfollow or unfriend me because you just can't handle another negative post from the infamous fitfoxyandfrazzledover40, who cannot seem to get out of her rut! I'm sorry, NOT sorry that I will not be the most supportive military wife or mother of the year! I will just do what I do best and that is...SURVIVE!

Strong is the New Skinny!

She stands there, ready to get in the shower, and passes the mirror...."Ugh!" She thinks to herself..."I workout so hard, will I ever stop the jiggle?" "Will I ever be happy with my body? Will I ever get the toned legs and abs I strive for?"

ALL THE WRONG REASONS

I've never been a fat girl or an overweight girl...but I've always been a very unhappy with my body girl. I have an athletic type body, slim build with muscular calves and shoulders. So if I'm not fat how come I'm unhappy? Well it stems from my childhood and environment. It stems from society and what is battered into our psyche of what is desirable. 

I was abused by my mom's second husband...I will never refer to him as "stepdad" because he wasn't ever one of those. Growing up he would slap my thighs and call them "Manitoba Leg". I have bigger thighs and his reference always made me feel like a cheap piece of worthless meat, it was like being called a cow. It made me HATE my legs to the point where I would imagine shaving the imagined fat from my legs and dreaming about long lean legs, the type found on the cover of many magazines. 

It didn't stop there. In middle school puberty hit and I started developing breasts and hips...oh gosh...that just opened a whole new world of shame and loss of self esteem. So not only did the abuse continue well into my teenage years, but now at school I had to deal with ridicule from boys who called me " Mother Load". I couldn't fit properly into jeans because of my hips and calves. Yes...my calves are big...NOT FAT...just muscular but try to explain that to all the skinny rich girls I went to school with.  I skipped school a lot those years just to cope, I also tried starving myself, I tried puking, and also started to obsess with exercise. This is NOT what teenage girls should have to worry about.

Fast forward to adulthood, still obsessed with the scale, my clothing size and exercise. I tried all sorts of diet products that claim to make you lose 10 pounds in a month. Slim fast, ephedra products, appetite suppressants, meal replacement shakes...pills...you name it I tried it. None of it worked for me. I am not an over eater by any means and have always been rather disciplined when it comes to whats on my plate. Haha...even when I was at my smallest, a size 4, I still wasn't happy and felt the need to lose more weight...I needed desperately to look skinny!

THE REAL TEST

The past 3 years have been the most difficult in my battle of the bulge. I'm in my 40's now and my hormones are changing. I forgot to mention that at 41 years of age, I was pregnant with my daughter and gained a whopping 75 lbs! I was huge and everyone took every opportunity to mention that..." Are you having twins?" "Do you have gestational diabetes?" Even my OB made a comment "Can't keep your hands out of the fridge?" Then I had a c-section and couldn't do anything for 6 weeks...that was tough...I still looked pregnant !!! Once I got the clear to resume physical activity I went full force. My husband was deployed and I vowed I would lose all the baby weight before he returned...and I did just that...but even once I reached 137lbs..below my goal weight...I was as miserable as ever! 

I started getting discouraged...I mean I was working out 3 hours a day 6 days a week and yes I had lost the weight but I was still jiggly...my thighs had no tone, I still had no abs...I wanted to give up!

But my friends and family reminded me of how far I had come, that I was their inspiration. 

NO LONGER A SLAVE

So one day...I decided to....DITCH the scale! I have not weighed myself since March 2016. I reevaluated my goals...to build lean muscle in my legs and abs. To remember that its a process and sometimes a slow, lengthy process! I am trying to learn to like my body...even the jiggly bits...mainly because I have a daughter now...and I want her to love her body! I don't want my daughter looking in the mirror wishing she could cut the fat off of her legs, I don't want my daughter believing she has to starve herself to be desirable or take diet products because she thinks she has to be a certain weight. I want my daughter to be strong, confident and healthy. So I lift weights to build muscle, to remain strong, to be healthy...because she is watching.

Letting Go

Today I switch gears a bit...tomorrow is a difficult day. You probably think.."She says this all the time..so what is new" right? But tomorrow is a different difficult...it is a bittersweet moment that has been coming for years...my eldest son is college bound and now I must let go of my beautiful baby boy and send him off into this big world so that he can start his OWN journey. 

A lot of parents are rejoicing but not I...don't get me wrong...I'm excited that he has grown into an independent, responsible young man. I'm excited for his new journey where he will discover what he wants out of life, what his purpose is. What I am not excited about is that I won't be there with him. He will no longer come home everyday from school and raid the fridge. He will no longer ask me to drive him to work, I will no longer be there in the stands to watch his early morning hockey practices (once he makes the sun devils team), I won't get to be there when he gets a bad cold and needs mom to get him some medicine. I won't get to see that beautiful smile that melts my heart, I won't get that hug or the "I love you too, mom" everyday. I will miss the hockey bag smell in the garage, I will miss passing his messy room while walking down the hallway to go to his sisters room. I will miss the late night text messages telling me "Hey mom, just going out to get something to eat". 

Although my parenting role will never cease to exist, it will change significantly. No longer is this a young child to parent relationship..it is now an adult child to parent relationship. We will still have our disagreements and meltdowns, but now I must let him put to practice all the values and lessons I have taught him and have faith him to make good choices on this new adventure into college life. 

What I want most for my college child to know is he always has a place to call home. I will always be here for him no matter what. He can call me anytime...when he's happy, when he's sad, when he's in trouble...I will always listen. I will offer him suggestions and ask him how I can help. I want happiness for him, I want him to choose his own path...not what he thinks other people want him to do. If college isn't his thing after this first year then he needs to find what makes him happy. I want him to be successful and pave his own roads. 

He will always be that little 7lb 2 oz baby boy born on December 16th 1998 on a chilly morning in Chilliwack BC Canada. He will always be my all star hockey player. I will always look at him with awe and wonder...for I know he is destined to do great things. I love you my son...this ones for you!

What No One Told Me

Things have been tough...really tough...emotionally, mentally and physically. Being a new-to-the-military wife has pushed me to new levels of anxiety and I hate to admit it but also depression. 

I've had difficult times before...being abused by my mom’s second husband, going through divorce, attending university and obtaining a teaching degree while raising two children...those all were not easy tasks but I endured them far better than I am at being an over 40 mom with a toddler and being a navy wife.

I really had no idea just how things would get so torn apart.

From Happy to Devastated

It was late June 2014 and we were preparing for my first PCS to sunny San Diego, California! We were also expecting our baby girl sometime in September...so we were elated to say the least! And that’s when it happened...the dreaded Navy spoiled our plans to have a happy year together before my husband deployed. You see my husband was entering a period called "Sea Duty". This is usually when they deploy, on a ship, out to the middle of ocean. The ship he was supposed to be on wasn't "out to sea" often during our time in California. 

I will never forget the day my husband came home, hugged me tight and started to sob.... his orders were being modded (a.k.a modified) .... he would be moved to another ship and they were deploying before the baby due date. My heart sank...I was devastated...I was scared...I was angry. How could this be happening to my happy family? No one told me this could happen!!!

I think that’s when my smile started to fade...replaced by tears at every thought of what he would miss...at every thought in general really...it didn't help that I was 7 months pregnant though either. 

We drove to California and tried to have as much fun as we could along the way knowing that deployment crept closer and closer. How was I going to do all this alone? Luckily we were very fortunate and his last command was able to get him to stay behind until the baby was born. That was a huge relief because I wasn't sure how I was going to have this baby without my partner and best friend! He promised me I wouldn't have to do this alone...

From Bad to Worse

Then on August 29 in the middle of the night I woke to find a horrific amount of blood dripping out of me...I was petrified! We rushed to the hospital where they told me after my examination that they would have to perform a C-section ASAP. they hurried my gurney down the quiet halls towards the OR and set me on the operating table...I was going to be awake for this surgery however the anesthesiologist decided I had lost too much blood and needed to be put under. I was terrified...the last thing I said to my husband was..." If I die please tell Dylon and Zac how much I love them."

Ten days later......I drove my husband to the airport...cried my eyes out and said goodbye the love of my life. My bestfriend...my supporter...my partner...I was now truly alone...my heart broke that day...and sadly it has never repaired.  Why Am I writing about something so bad...? because I'm about to embark on that same mission all over again...my husband is soon to deploy...I will once again be alone to hold down the fort. And even though our marriage has been really rocky and bumpy and stormy since 2015...he is still that person I look to for comfort, the calm I look for at the end of a hard day with the kids...it breaks my heart into tiny pieces all over again...the shards thinner and sharper than ever...how on earth do I come back from this?

Into the Abyss