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...

NOTE: This is an old post, from five years ago and I wanted to honor every woman and man who have felt pain from a miscarriage.  We found out today that I did in fact miscarry.  There aren’t really words to describe how I feel right now: anger, sadness, and exhaustion (both mentally and physically) are just a few of the emotions I’ve gone through these past few hours.  While I still clung on for hope that everything would be okay, I tried to prepare myself for this moment, but you can never really be prepared for the phrase, “complete miscarriage”.  This morning, after my shower, I stood for a long time just looking at myself in the fogged up mirror. I had already been in to the doctor for the lab work and was just waiting for results now. I examined my body up and down trying to figure out where we went wrong. I found nothing. I looked at my tired eyes and my long face trying to find that glimpse of hope that I had a few days ago. There was none. ...

NOTE: This is an old post. In honor of many friends going through this, I felt I should share my story, again, on a more public scale. And so, on the five year anniversary, I share with you the pain of the M word.  Saturday, April 9th will be a day I never forget. It’s a day that I feel that I must write about so I can truly express my feelings and thoughts. It’s a day that changed my life forever.   On Monday, April 4th, Eric and I found out I was pregnant. We had been trying for a while but knew that with irregular periods, ranging from 10 days in between to 58 days in between, that it would be difficult to determine when I would ovulate.  We loved being parents. And with a wonderful, happy, smart, beautiful child like Henrik, we knew we wanted to give him a brother or a sister.  We wanted them to be close in age like my sisters and I are. We wanted them to be best friends. So when we found out we were going to be second-time parents, we were over...

Son, As we reach Spring Break I am baffled by how quickly your first year of school has gone by. It seems like yesterday I was crying when I dropped you off at Pre-school and now, we're approaching our last day of Kindergarten. I promise you, it will be here before you know it. I am in awe of you as you come home with such an amazing vocabulary, a deep love of your "School Brother," and how you talk about how much you like all your classmates. I love how you refuse to do "Kiss-and-Go" and insist I walk you to the door, give you a hug, a kiss and give each other our little signal that says, "I love you". You walk into school so confidently, so proud, so excited for each day, even though you swear you want to stay home and spend the day with me (and by the way, I'm still flattered to hear that). When you go in that building, you are a different person than you are at home. You are confident, you are free from your brother, you are able to experime...

I put her in position, undo my bra and readjust her after her excitement of finally having access to milk. She starts to nurse. She calms down.  She takes big gulps and then finds her rhythm. Her breaths get longer and slower, her sucks become more melodious, her hands start their trace of my body. She bangs on my breast, she slides her hand down my chest, she makes her way across my post baby pooch, and ever so gently, those chubby, soft, warm, hands slide across my belly back and forth, back and forth. I chuckle a bit because if anyone else grabbed my stomach I would freak out about them finding my muffin top hang over my pants. With her other hand, she finds my love handles and grabs on as she moves the first hand back up to my breast. We do this four or five times before her hands slow.  I tickle her under her chin to keep her sucking. When it's finally time to switch sides, we do this all again, only she starts by grabbing my love handles. My boys always knocked the mil...