It's easy to focus on the challenges of raising a military kid - how much the active duty parent will miss, how many changes the child will have to endure, and how on earth to prepare a young child for all of that. This has been weighing very heavy on my mind lately, as we prepare for our first PCS move since my daughter was born. This will mean taking her away from the only home she's ever known and, more importantly, from an incredible group of friends that have surrounded her since she was 3 months old and to whom she has become very attached. This will also mean much more time away from her daddy, which doesn't go well some days even when he's just at work and coming home by 5:00! With all of this swirling in my mind - along with conflicting thoughts about going back to work, which I have blogged about previously - I decided to save my sanity by writing about my favorite things about raising my military kid.
Whenever I think about this topic, my mind always goes back to one incident. When my daughter was very young - from the ages of about 3 months to about 8 months - we attended a weekly "new moms group". After the group meeting, many of the moms and babies would go out to lunch together, and we always went to this great deli that was relatively near several places where military personnel in the area work. So, it was not a rare occurrence for military members to be there in uniform having lunch. One day when my daughter was probably about 6 months old, she spotted just such a military member wearing the same uniform that my husband wears to work most days. She only saw the man from across the room and became very upset when we didn't go over to see this person, as she clearly thought it was her daddy (it wasn't). There were similar occurrences at the military hospital where she receives her primary care, and as she learned to speak she would often identify various people in uniform as "da da!" as we walked down the halls.
These occurrences are rare now, as she can spot daddy coming from a mile away, but she is still comforted by the uniform. For instance, she's not a fan of doctors (I don't think many toddlers are!), but I can usually calm her down before an appointment by talking to her about how her pediatrician will be wearing a uniform just like daddy's. That usually brings a big smile, rather than tears. And I love that. To me, the comfort that uniforms brings her - and even that very early occurrence where she spotted it from across the room - always reminds me that even when her father is away, she is going to spend her childhood wrapped in the love and support of our Navy family. And I love that.
There is a popular song out right now called "One Call Away" by Charlie Puth. It is, of course, a love song of sorts, but I am always going to stand by my position that it missed a good chance to be about military spouses! From the moment I first heard it, it struck a chord in my heart and made me think about several dear military spouse friends who, from across the country or the globe, have been there for me through deployments, moves, pregnancy, parenting, and everything in between - good days and bad. No matter where you go / You know you're not alone / I'm only one call away / I'll be there to save the day / Superman got nothing on me / I'm only one call away. Seriously, guys. It's about the milspouse community in my book. And my daughter is going to be surrounded and supported by those same people. And by their children, who are amazing military kids going through the same challenges and triumphs that my little one will. And I love that.
The people are the greatest thing about this military lifestyle by far, I think. The goodbyes - both to friends and to our service member - are the hardest. The waiting, a close second. But the people are amazing. The people who have come into our lives because of this military life we lead are people I wouldn't trade for anything on earth. And so, because she is a military kid, they are also people in my daughter's life. And I love that.
Our little girl has a lot of challenges ahead of her, and it breaks my heart daily to think about them. I can be a sobbing heap on the floor in about 10 seconds flat thinking about having to say goodbye for our first deployment with her. As the days and the weeks and the months tick by, it will be my job to make her believe and understand that her father is coming back just as soon as he can. It will be hard. It hurts my heart. She will miss her friends here terribly when we move, and I pray constantly that she will find many wonderful ones in our next "hometown." The moves, the absences, and the changes will be disruptive to her and difficult for our family.
But she has so much to look forward to and so much to be proud of. I hope that along with the nervousness and anxiety we all feel before a move, she will also feel that little bit of excitement and optimism I always feel. I hope that when she cries like most of us do when her father leaves, that some of those tears are tears of sheer pride and determination like mine are. I hope that when the national anthem plays, even if it's just on TV or at a sporting event, her body becomes still, her mind quiet, and her eyes misty like mine. I came into the military community as an adult, and it took some adjusting to feel a part of it. But she gets to grow up in it - embraced by it and enveloped in it. And I hope she views it that way - she gets to, not she has to. And I hope that at the end of the day she loves it.
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