Dear Henrik, Theodor, and Elinor, When you wake, it will be Mother's Day. Despite your best efforts to let me sleep in and to shower me with the most beautiful glitter creation in all the land, this day isn't really about me. I've wanted, and waited, for this day to be about me for 7 years. And, to be honest, I've dreamt about a night away from you all to celebrate in solitude, in front of trashy TV, a bottle of wine, and some chocolate while cheering my self on because you're all still alive. But this year, after seeing the lack of build up and prep, I've finally figured it out. It's never about me... it probably won't ever be about me. I 've longed for a day where I could sleep in past 6 AM. I've hoped for a day with no fighting, a trip to the grocery store or even the bathroom by myself, mimosas all day, massages or even a mani/pedi, and, most importantly nothing to pick up or clean, no laundry to put away, and a day without saying, &qu
Just when you think military kids are resilient, something comes their way and they are once again put to the test, up to the challenge without a choice, that society and yes, even military parents, put on them. They go from being comfortable and confident in who they are and where they belong, to feeling lost, afraid and confused. And while being resilient is the thing they are called most, most of them are like a duck in water, like most of their parents, playing it cool on the surface, but scrambling to find ground to stand on. This year, our military kids are being put to the test once again, and during the Month of the Military Child too. They are going through a PCS or a Permanent Change of Station, and, in our experience, a PCS doesn't mean moving from door to door, it means a month of change, driving and living out of a suitcase. We are open with our kids, they knew when we knew that we were going to move. They knew that it was still far off. They knew that we had to pi