Mully Grubs

Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast At Tiffany's called them the 'Mean Reds'.
Elvis sang the 'blues'.
My dad just calls them the 'Mully Grubbs'.

Whatever you call them, I've had them.
For the last week or so it just seemed like my boot straps weren't long enough to pull me out of it.

I think, if we're honest about it, most of us just need a good cry every once in a while. A purge of sorts. We need a chance to release all the emotions that we gloss over to get through our every day frustrations. Those feelings of hurt, anger, loneliness or rejection that we lock in a box marked 'I'll deal with this later'.

I want to make clear - I love my life! I've been blessed in more ways than I can say.
The Army has allowed us to expand our horizons, meet new and wonderful people, see the big beautiful world outside our little Ozark Mountain bubble.
Those of you who know my history, know I was pretty much raised for this nomadic way of life! The experiences I had as a PK have been invaluable to me as a traveling wife and mother.
But no life is perfect. Or easy.
There is a trade.
 When you move so often, it's very difficult to cultivate true and meaningful friendships.
Those are things that simply take time.
I guess my main woe over the last several days has been loneliness.
It dawned on me that other than my hubby and parents, it's been weeks since I've had an actual conversation with anyone!
The girls have several friends from church. But Joe and I don't get game time and giggles in 'big church' like they do in AWANA, so it's a little tougher to connect with people.

I miss having girlfriends. I miss scrapbook parties, and shopping trips, and play dates with other moms.
Christian sisters that share a common faith.

Thank God for my mom, who has been in this boat for over 40 years and has always been a shining example.

Eventually the pity party winds down, and I see the blessings;
*being able to stay home with my girls
*seeing new places and experiencing new things through their eyes
*teaching them that they can go anywhere and be anything
*Joe being able to retire in his 40's!

Lord, please help me remember,

"... in whatever state I am, therewith to be content."  Philippians 4:11

It's funny . . . because it's true

To all you women out there who handle motherhood with quiet grace and dignity . . .

That's two . . .

I've always heard that bad things come in threes . . .

*The first time was when Dad was visiting.

The girls have a large glass jar in their bathroom that holds all the barrettes, bows, and scrunchies. The Dadster was exiting the shower and made a grab for the towel he had laid on the countertop. The towel dragged the lid off the jar and onto the floor.

Tile floor means shattered glass means bloody gash in the big guys foot.
(I'll spare you the photos. Lets just say he's somewhat of a free bleeder.)

Luckily, the cut was on an angle. After we stopped the bleeding, everything sort of flopped back into place sealed up nicely.
It was ugly for a week or two, but finally healed up.

*The second time was two days ago.

Shelby was getting the cereal out of the pantry. Somehow, the glass jar of maple syrup was knocked off the shelf.
It hit the floor, threw glass and sticky all over, and sliced the top of my babies foot!

Shelby was a little wobbly on the way to the couch. I asked if the sight of blood made her feel dizzy.
She said, "Well, yeah, when it's mine!"
I cleaned the foot well enough to get a good look and told her I was pretty sure she needed a few stitches. That's when she really swooned. Literally.

She begged not to go.
She said she'd rather have a scar like the grand canyon than have to go to the ER.
I reminded her that she'd soon be sixteen and rockin' the strappy sandals.
"Hang the sandals! You fix me!"

After a little deliberation, and an extended examination, Joe made a quick run to the 'I'm-not-a-doctor-but-I-play-one-at-home' section of the superstore.

I'm sure, it would be a little more sturdy with stitches holding everything together, but we did fairly well with gauze pads and steri-strips. She'll just have to stay off of it for a while.


*I guess if everything really does come in threes, we need to invest in steel toed boots!