Army Wife In Training

Today I was on base. It is strange to me, and yet, I guess its not that weird. It was the first time I’d ever been through the gates without Chad. Once I tried to get in, but they wouldn’t let me. It’s a completely different story, but I assure you, it wasn’t because I am a criminal or anything.  

I posted on Facebook, “Every time I show the guards on base my I.D., I feel like I’m guilty of something.....”yes, Officer, I do have ten kids!” When someone says my name, I feel like I need to turn around pleading, “IT WASN’t ME, I SWEAR!” While that was a complete joke, my awkwardness of being an Army wife is not.  

I can’t exactly explain how foreign it is to me. I don’t have a dad in the military, I never had friends parents who were in the military and the most contact I ever had with the base was when I would be trying to get from one end of town to another and I’d be pissed because what I thought was a through street, would end up being blocked for the base! Many years of swearing over that and I still can’t remember which roads stop at a damn fence with a guard on duty.  

Anyway, being an ARMY wife is a little bizarre to me. Maybe it’s because Chad talks in acronyms 90% of the time. In one sentence he may have three complete words.  Sometimes I can totally keep up with him, or I’ll make the effort to stop him and ask, “Can you please clarify what ‘I don’t have time to complete this NCOER because the OPTEMPO is so crazy’ means for me please?” Other times I smile and nod and say something like, “Let me know what I can do” because its not worth the time to say again, “Honey, I’m human and don’t process incomplete words like ‘ETA’ at 100 words per minute.” It’s more difficult than you’d imagine, too. While I could probably handle it, I am also trying to decode our children’s texts that consist mainly of capital letters, including WTH, LOL, YOLO and IKR. Then there’s the military time. I need at least 30 seconds to work that one out in my head, especially when it is sandwiched between two acronyms and you’re trying to get me to do something!

The other thing I find very awkward is when we are out in public and Chad is in uniform.  He is looking his best to me when he’s all costumed up (yes, I know it is not a costume; however, it’s what this civilian calls it). There are so many rules of what he should, could, can and can’t do that I am seriously feeling like my sense of security is being threatened. Totally natural things, like leaning over and kissing Chad, I second guess when he’s in uniform. I also just might be a tad-bit bossy and a total rule follower, so things that I am sure of, like, remove your hat when you go inside, I feel like it is my duty to remind Chad of. As if, after all these years, he can’t handle that himself. I seriously am always thinking, “Hope he remembers to remove his hat,” which makes me always at a heightened sense of obligation. I know it is completely ridiculous, but it is seriously tiring for me. While it is totally unnecessary, I feel like I am with a toddler at the Grand Canyon, because God forbid I not be on full alert status, something tragic could happen!

Another thing I am not sure I will ever get used to is the military discount and the graciousness of complete strangers. On more occasions than I can count, while out to dinner or walking down the street with Chad in his uniform, we’ve been approached with a “Thank you for your service.” Now, while Emma and I have taken that statement to the extreme and it is used on a daily basis by her for things such as clean laundry or a favorite meal made, it seriously is one of the things that does fill me with pride. While I can’t claim to have loved and lived with Chad through the times he was deployed or going through some of the toughest training, I am still proud of my soldier and being his wife. I don’t know that I will ever feel comfortable when a stranger stops my husband and asks to pay for our meal or thanks him with a real sincerity. It is gracious and, like I said, I am proud of Chad. Our military deserves to be recognized, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward. 

The waiting game is last, but definitely not least, on my list of ARMY wife awkward situations. Currently, we are waiting for our orders on our next PCS. See that acronym I used there? I can be taught! For all y’all that don’t know, that means “transfer.” I am not sure why because there’s no P or C in transfer....hmmmm! I’ve never liked being told what to do. As a matter of fact, when I was not even two years old, my parents would tell me we were leaving and I would hide from them. It happened so often that they finally attached bells to my shoes because they knew I couldn’t hold my feet still enough to stay hidden for long. I still reply to some of my mom’s texts, “You’re not the boss of me!” to which she will reply, “Noted.” Right now, the ARMY is telling me “it’s time to go, but it’s a big secret as to where you’ll be headed.” I don’t do well with that. Considering I don’t like being bossed around and I don’t like not being in control, right now I am at the mercy of someone else and trusting that our family will end up with the best case scenario. It’s crazy knowing you’re leaving but not being able to plan for the future.  

When I sat down to think about this awkwardness in my new role, I remembered all the other roles I have played in life. I played daughter and little sister, cousin and niece. I’ve played student and teacher. I’ve played mother and friend, wife and lover. I’ve played some not-so-awesome roles like victim, ex-wife and patient. While I thought some of the roles I played came naturally to me, the reality is, none of them have. When being a daughter, I had to be taught how to fill that role, and it is ever changing as new life shows up and the years pass. While being a mom, things seemed natural at some points, like nursing my newborn and loving unconditionally. But when RAD showed up, being a mom was no longer so natural. Being a wife was a ton of work because, the craziest thing is, husbands have an opinion...... strange. What I’ve learned is that each time I fill a role and start living it, it seems to evolve and change. Relationships and roles always require more work than I expect but, at the same time, I gain more than I imagined, so the work ends up being worth it. I can’t say that I have ever lived a role in my life that hasn’t served me well in some way or another, even when I felt like I was doing a terrible job or when I didn’t really want to be playing it. The relationships and roles I have had the experience of living have taught me more than any book, movie or self-help session could have. For that I am grateful. I am sure that I have been able to be more compassionate, laugh more, cry harder and help countless times because I personally have experienced some of the roles I never would have played had I been picking my own part. 

So, this new role is one I will learn to embrace. I am proud to be Chad’s wife and if ARMY has to come in front of it, I am sure I am capable of figuring things out. Maybe someday it will all come naturally. I’ll be inviting you for drinks and you’ll get a text from me, “What’s your ETA? Hopefully, before 1900 because that’s when happy hour ends!” 

First Date

Today marks two years from my first “official” date with Chad. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and looking back now, I find it almost comical that either of us saw the potential of a relationship, because who thinks ten kids under one roof has ever sounded like a good idea?   

Life is about taking chances, which is exactly what I did the night I got on match.com. It was time for a fresh start and I wanted to believe I had some possibility of having a happily ever after. I swore I would never get married again (jokes on me), I swore I wouldn’t date anyone with kids (four is a nice, even number), I swore I would NEVER “wink” or send an email first......no comment there. I had several dates, many phone calls and countless winks from people that were very FAR from a “match” for me. It was a good learning experience, though, and got me in the game again, I suppose. I don’t think I could say I regret any of the trial and error, so to speak, but I just didn’t click with anyone. Many days I remember thinking that I was never going to find anyone to be happy with again.  

The reality is, I had been on match for a few months before I finally saw Chad’s profile.  Honestly, the reason I hadn’t seen him sooner was because I had narrowed my search field down so far that only one man fit in the box, and he married Kate Middleton just a few months later. I read Chad’s profile a couple of times (which really means about a hundred) before I finally (days later) got the nerve up to send a “wink.” I hit send and what promptly followed was me slamming my computer shut and running out of the room as if he had personally witnessed me winking at him. To say I had “nerve” might be a slight exaggeration. Although I don’t recall all the specifics in the next month and a half or so, I do know the one guy I had the courage to wink at.......never responded! 

“What?” you’re saying right now. And here I am vigorously shaking my head “yes” with the “Can you believe that?” look on my face.

It is so cliche and the brunt of almost every single joke our kids come up with regarding our relationship, but I love that they know our story. I guess it makes the fact that he sent me an email on Thanksgiving day that much sweeter. At least that is how I’m going to play it off. You see, from Chad’s perspective, I had winked at absolutely the worst time of year......right in the middle of duck hunting season! The nerve of me, right? Anyway, he knew better than to respond and then not really want to spend the time to build a relationship, so he waited. After that first email he sent, the rest is history. We emailed a few times, texted each other daily and talked for hours on end over the next couple of months. The funny thing is, our kids were our excuses for not making a point of getting together and meeting officially. We both respected each other for that. 

When we finally met, I already knew that, if nothing else, a great friendship was to be had. I never told my kids I was going on a date. Josh was on duty to call me an hour in, just in case a “rescue” was necessary, which it wasn’t. But other than that, no one really knew. Chad wasn’t what I set out looking for, but in a strange way, he was exactly what I needed. I didn’t know that what wasn’t “ideal” was actually perfect for me. I was the first one at the restaurant (Chad was late because he was taking care of dinner for his kids) and I waited for him in the parking lot. We were actually on the phone the entire time he was driving. As soon as he pulled up, after months of waiting, everything just clicked!  Nothing was forced for either of us. We talked and laughed and tried to figure out what to do to keep the date going long after it was over. Looking back now, one of the funniest things about our night was adding each other’s contacts to our phones. I still have Chad saved as “Master Chad” (which is what he put himself in as) and the picture that pops up when I call him is one he took on that first night. I drove with him to his storage unit, where he terrified me because “I shouldn’t be going at night to a secluded place with a stranger.” Although he was right, somehow I knew I was safe with him. After that night, we both just assumed we would be making our relationship work. We never talked about making things “official,” they just were.   

It is crazy how much has happened in the past two years and how natural our family feels being together. I had no idea what I was walking into that night and I am so glad I didn’t because who knows if I would have ever gone. To say that Chad “saved” me sounds so vulnerable. I don’t like to think of myself in that way, but I admit that being with Chad means that I have found my “happy” again. That is a good enough ending for me. The reality is, today is a day to be celebrated. It is a day that proves to me that second chances really exist. I may have a few hard chapters, but my story is far from over.     

Resolutions

It’s the time of year that always has my mind wandering with what changes and additions I want for the upcoming year. As with many of us, life gets busy and I can’t say I tend to focus on each and every thing I decide on December 30th sounds like a good plan for the year ahead. However, one of the things that our family has done for several years is dream boards. The kids tend to focus on what they “want” and cut out pictures in magazines of the coolest remote control car or the pair of boots they saw the newest teen star wearing. Usually, I have wild dreams like getting voted mother of the year all while I open up my new orphanage in Africa and train for my 12 marathons that will be completed by December 1st so it doesn’t interfere with my Martha Stewart Christmas to which I plan on inviting all the single soldiers. I have great intentions. The reality is that what I say I’m going to do and what actually happens ends up being just slightly off course. This year I am focused on doing several of the things that are top priority to me, the things that have made the dream board for several years but never really got finished....or .....started.  

When I was in the trenches of toddler mommy-hood and up to my eyeballs in the juggle of marriage and kids...and dirty diapers, I started leading a women’s group at the church we were attending. I came to love these women, even though most of us had nothing but this weekly meeting in common. Many of them had raised their children and were in the empty-nester stage; some of them didn’t have children yet; some of them weren’t married; some of them were moms like me; some of them were divorced but all of them were “my ladies.” I would write them letters and emails throughout the week along with my lessons and I heard countless times, “You need to write a book,” to which I would reply, “What would it be about?”

When we adopted Graysie, it was a whirlwind. What takes most people years to accomplish, we had gotten done in nine weeks. When the adoption agency said a home study takes 12 weeks and I told her I only have nine, she laughed in my face. We got it done. When I told people that we would always have an open door policy with Amanda, people said it wouldn’t work. We’ve never had an issue and Graysie is 12. So many times I have heard, “You need to write a book,” to which I would reply, “What would I write about?”  

When Mikael and Kayela joined our family, to say it was a “transition” is an understatement. RAD isn’t so rad after all. People said, “You should write a book,” to which I would reply, “What would I write about?”

My desire to have another baby was still nagging at me. Having babies around is when my heart is at its happiest. Along came Tait, who filled me with so much joy. He was spoiled and happy and I loved the chance I got at being his mommy and loving him to the fullest. When Josh and I lost Tait, it devastated us. Our beautiful baby boy was gone and we mourned and had to see our children suffer a loss that kids should just not have to suffer. As much as I blogged about it, no words could have described the sadness we felt. No one could imagine the tears shed over our little man. Again, people said, “You’ve got to write a book,” to which I replied, “What would I write about?” 

One day we decided we wanted to move. Three weeks later we had picked the spot, packed the house, sold most of our belongings, found the schools and everything lined up to move 2600 miles from home. We waved goodbye and trekked six kids across the country to live in the most amazing place. We explored and played and met amazing people. A year later we moved back home on a whim. Everyone said, “You’ve got to write a book,” to which I replied, “What would I write about?”  

Four months after we got back home, I announced that Josh and I would be getting a divorce. I walked Josh out of the closet and our family stood proudly behind him. We figured out what has meaning and what it feels like to be judged. We realized how tough divorce is on everyone, even when you’ve got the best case scenario. We suffered quietly behind our smiles because what else was there to do? People said, “You’ve got to write a book,” and Josh and I said, “Okay.” We talked to a publisher, we got an outline, we started writing. But I still wondered, “What is this going to be about?”

We started our company, things thrived, people came and we got busy. The book stood still. The business expanded. People said, “Are you still writing a book?”  I would say, “It’s confusing. I’m not sure what it’s going to really be about. Who’s going to read it?” 

Chad and I started dating. Along with Chad came four amazing bonus kids. As awesome as all ten kids are, change is still change. Blending a family is more like a mosh pit of ideas and opinions; people are bound to get hurt. As parents, we try to do what is best for the majority. My idea of best is not always Chad’s idea of best and vice versa. While you’re doing what is best for the majority, it doesn’t make watching one fall apart any easier and we had a lot of that in the beginning. Many tears were shed by all.  People said, “Ambyr, write a book,”  to which I’d reply, “I am too busy to write a book!”

Now that Chad and I are married, the kids have settled into their new daily lives under the same roof and I am finally able to remember my own name, life is funny again. It’s crazy and complicated and not even what I dreamed it would be like, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love my kids, I love being the one here everyday getting knocked down (figuratively and literally) because I know when I get back up, everything is worth it. Things happen, life happens, but knowing how hard you’ve worked to be able to look yourself in the mirror and know who you really are is what matters. Who wouldn’t want to read a story like that?

I’ve said I was going to do it, I’ve wanted to do it, I’ve planned on doing it, people have encouraged me for longer than I want to admit to do it. Yet I keep finding reasons why I can’t write a book. At this point, I think life has handed me enough material not to find another excuse. So, while I am whittling down and trying to be realistic about my dream board this year, writing a book is making it on there.....which should tell you all a little about how crazy the previous year’s dream boards have been!

Gossip People, please!!

During the heaviest and hardest of days for me, I remember silently pleading with people to gossip about my situation.  I remember wanting people to talk it up, say what they needed to say and tell everyone they knew to read the blog so they’d be updated.  I remember being terrified to go out in public alone, for fear that I would have to tell my story. One. More. Time.  I can’t explain how draining it was to re-live over and over again the latest, and not so greatest, update on the “Hunt Family.”  If I saw someone out in public who I wasn’t sure had been in the loop, I would dodge them like a bullet. There were times that I would have to gear myself up hours in advance to leave my house, especially when it was kids events like school and sports where I was sure to run into people who knew just enough to be dangerous.  

While I have often said to my kids “people aren’t as interested in you as you think they are or should be”, I really didn’t want that to be the case for me.  I understood that not everyone had such dull lives that they needed to be talking about me and my mess, however, I was tired of telling my own story.  I couldn’t believe that some people hadn’t heard!  I mean seriously, we live in suburbia, went to a mega church, had six kids and ran companies... now he’s gay!!! Why aren’t you gossiping people? I just wanted everyone to instantly know. It was too hard to have to say it again.  When the kids were around was the hardest too because they’d have to hear one more time that their lives were going to be changed forever, it hurt my heart to see them in those situations.  I needed people gossiping.

  Now don’t get me wrong, when other’s would ask “how are things, how are the kids, how are you?” I wasn’t bothered.  I liked knowing people were concerned.  I felt honored that they’d go out of their comfort zones at times to ask.  I was grateful to those who said they’d be there if I needed to talk, and even more grateful to those who actually listened.  For all the friends that went out of their way to call and just let me fall to pieces in front of them over and over again, I won’t forget that.  Words can’t even begin to explain how comforting that was for each and every one of us.  What I’m talking about is not that, what I am talking about are the people who hadn’t heard.  The people who I hadn’t kept in touch with and I had to explain the whole freaking mess to, that was miserable! 

However, even more miserable than that and by far the toughest thing ever was the hate messages I got.  I blogged about one or two.  I hid most of them from Josh and the kids. I was angry at people’s judgement. I laughed on the outside at the ignorance of some, while my mind went crazy.  I was hurt each and every time. 

It was one thing to get those emails that talked about gay and the bible and their view. Great, everyone has an opinion, including me. I can hear you out and agree to disagree and still be respectful and understanding and even friends. It was a completely different thing to get those emails that bashed me and my kids.  Not that I want to play victim here, but really?  How in anyone’s right mind can you blame this on me or my children? With every unsupportive word spoken or written to me I was that much more determined to come out on top.  

Where am I headed with all of this?  Well, to be honest, now over three years later I thought I was done with all that nastiness.....until I got a message in my inbox today.  I was absolutely caught off guard when I started reading, and the message just got more and more righteous as it went, but basically ( and when I say “basically”, I am really technically saying I should use quotations and reference my sources but, I am a nicer person than that.) it went something like this:

You are wrong and completely living a sinful life.  To act as though divorce and re-marriage is something to be celebrated is just another way our society is fallen to the devil and you and people like you are the main contributing factors. I am ashamed I ever called you “friend” and am mortified that our children spent so much time together when they were younger, I should have been a better mother.  Now to watch your facebook posts acting as though moving forward in a new marriage is acceptable has me stunned......

......ummmm, what do I say to that?  How do I respond?  How can I not be hurt and angry over those accusations?  Again, I will not be the victim.  I refuse to play that hand. At the same time, give me a break.  I did, and continue to do, the best I can with what I have been given.  I will not be sorry for moving on.  I will not apologize for being an example to my kids that when life doesn’t go as you plan, start over and do better. I will not be sorry for starting my life over with a man and four bonus kids who I absolutely cherish! I cannot hide my newfound happy, nor should I have to. I refuse to accept that I should be wallowing in self pity for eternity.   I am confident that my decision to support my friend, and the father of my children, while I take care of myself was the best thing for my children.  My response was short and simple, because like I reminded myself over and over as I typed “I get to choose the type of person that I am, no one else decides that for me”  and I told her:

I am happy for your ignorance on this subject, because that means you’ve not been hurt the way I have.  

Then, I unfriended her, cried some more and decided again that I would rather have people like this gossip about me than tell me their opinions. Please people, I’m begging you.... gossip!  I would rather you tell your circle of friends all your opinions about me and my decisions than to drag me into this debate anymore. 

Worst Part Of Mommyhood!!

I think one of the hardest parts of being a mom, is watching my kids hurt.  This week I have watched in anguish over the pain Mihya has felt over the loss of her beloved, Loni.     The pain is like nothing she has ever experienced I am sure.  As her mom, I can’t do a thing to help her and it is gut wrenching to me. 

Sunday night I watched Mihya take in the news from the Veterinarian that her sweet Loni wouldn’t make it another night.  I watched Mihya hold her head high, looking the Dr. in the eye, listening intently, trying to be strong; until she just couldn’t do it a moment longer.  Her whole body collapsed into her hands and she wept silently, body shaking.  As she held Loni in her arms to tell her goodbye I remember thinking that this “being a parent thing” really sucks!  Not for the laundry or the late nights fighting over homework, not for the sneaking out and the calls from other parents, not for the messy house and the endless piles of laundry, not for the money going out the door faster than it comes in.  No, none of those things compare to watching your child suffer, knowing that you just can’t “fix” this one.  

Part of living life, unfortunately, is taking the good with the bad, overcoming, learning from the past and figuring out how to move forward. Most of what life brings, we never see coming and we find ourselves navigating through unfamiliar territory.  As much as I am totally under-qualified for the position of “mamma” my job at the moment is to guide these ten crazies (whom I adore) the best I can.  I just don’t know how you look at your child and gently let them know, that this will most definitely not be their last heartbreak.  I don’t know how to comfort them when my heart is crushed for them.  I don’t know the right words to say or the best action to take when I know the thing that they want can’t be given to them.  Even knowing that death is part of life, I still can’t help but wish the kids wouldn’t have to realize that yet, not now.  I don’t know how to teach them that the world doesn’t stop for one person in pain.  I can’t explain that friends have the right to laugh with each other and share good news with you, even if you aren’t in the mood to hear it. Again, I know I can’t “fix” this and that is the worst part. Just like the kids, I am still learning how to deal with life too.  I’m realizing that life is what taught me these things, and life is what will teach them too, all I can do is watch, listen and love them.  

Real life showed up for Mihya on Sunday night wether I wanted it to or not.  Real life has shown up before and sadly, it will again.  Most of the time I wont be able to do a thing about it, as much as I’d like to think I can.   My hope is that the good outweighs the bad.   That they all come to understand that time heals almost everything.  That they each realize that loving something with your whole heart is worth it, even if it doesn’t last forever. 

Excuses, Excuses!

I’m admittedly an excuse giver. Yup, true story. You see, I realized this “issue” when Graysie was about 3 years old. I caught myself telling someone that I was overweight because I’d “just” had a baby. Keep in mind, Graysie was 3......oh, AND (minor detail)....... she was adopted! Looking back, I suppose the only person I had fooled was myself. However, it did work, for awhile. You see, it was just way too hard for me to admit that I was eating like crap and didn’t do anything that might constitute as exercise. As embarrassing as it is now, I honestly have to say that I told dozens of people without so much as a blink of the eye that I had “just” had a baby. When I finally confronted myself with the fact that this was just too absurd to say anymore, the sarcasm began. I then went on for years cracking jokes about how I had “just” had a baby because Kayela (who was also adopted) was just entering 3rd grade, duh! It wasn’t until I had lost 25pounds a few pounds that I could finally say out loud how ridiculous my excuse was. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was way to humiliated to say that I liked complaining about my weight; but I certainly didn’t want to change my lifestyle to get me back in shape. 

 This isn’t the only excuse I rode the wave of for far past its prime either. No, when trying to cover up my OCD ways I often would (and still may sometimes) say that “ I just feel like the kids are so much more at peace in a clean environment.” The reality of that one, I like it clean! I like to know where things are, I like to feel like I am in control of a little something in this world, and I feel like if something is out of place that I am a terrible homemaker. It isn’t about the kids at all, but who wants to admit that you are selfish and looking out for number one while making everyone else miserable in the process? Certainly not me! Yet, I still do it and it is a habit that may have subsided a little, but not fully. If I were not an excuse maker, I suppose I would just admit that I don’t really care if having a clean house isn’t conducive to living with ten kids. I’m sure I would be able to say proudly that I am in charge and I get to make the rules in my home, and for those who don’t like it, they can do it however they want when they are in their own homes. Will I ever change my OCD ways? Doubt it, because my dad was OCD....(another excuse brewing that I have used as a crutch for 30 something years for many things not related to cleanliness) ......most likely no, not ever. 

 My most recent excuses consist of “I’ve just gone through a hard divorce”, “I just got engaged”, “I am in the middle of planning a wedding”, “We are trying hard to blend a family”, “I am the mother of ten kids”, “She/He is one of ten”, “We just got married”, “We just got divorced”, “because of my past.....”, “because of his past......”, These are just a few of the many I throw out there on a daily basis. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t lie, it’s all truth but is it the real underlying “reason” in said situation....maybe not. Right now I feel like they are legitimate excuses, perhaps someday they will be the brunt of my sarcastic jokes.

Being an excuse giver hasn’t served me well in my personal relationships. That is why, I continue to be hurt over and over again by the same people. Instead of me saying “hey, that really made me feel terrible” I vent to Chad about how “pissed” I am. The reality is, I’m not pissed, I’m defeated, rejected and hurt. I continue to try to “prove” myself to one person in particular. This person is someone I go out of my way to assure that I am on her team, that I care about her well-being, that I won’t bail on her like so many others who should have taken responsibility have. I am there when she needs someone to listen, I am there to provide a stable environment, I am there to defend her and to protect her. I’m there for the tough stuff too, like wash your hands, shower daily, show respect, be appreciative and let me fix your hair. I’m there to say you’re good enough, you are worthy to live your future dream, you can count on me, and that you are fully capable of more than you give yourself credit. I don’t always handle things perfectly, I can admit that. Although, to say I am “pissed” is a lame excuse. Reality is, I fear that my best will never amount to anything. I fear that she will never realize how much I was devoted to her and her well-being. I’m sad just imagining that her constant strong arm against a great bond will indeed effect our long term relationship. I hate to think that I will, no matter how much effort I put in, forever be thought of as someone who stomped on her parade. I am unsettled at the progress so far, to say the least. As much as I am completely rejected and disrespected over and over again, I am determined, and I won’t give any excuses for that. The bottom line truth is, I am hurt. I don’t know why that is so hard for me to say. I guess I’d rather be portrayed as being “angry” than being “weak” so it’s easier to say “I’m so pissed.” Seems a bit psychotic, but if I am psychotic it’s only because.....Oh, never-mind! 

Perhaps if I were to be honest with Chad and the way I feel after this person has said or done the things that cut deep, we could figure out a way to move forward in a positive way. Today, we just had another situation where I said I was “pissed” when I really should have said “to be ignored for four days is hurtful to me” and “I’m trying so hard and yet I am still totally disrespected” and “can you defend me, because when you don’t I feel like you don’t respect me either.” I can’t blame Chad at all for how the situation was handled when I have covered up the reality with some goofy excuse (I still think he should read minds because he is pretty amazing like that!) Maybe giving an excuse hasn’t served me well in this situation. I honestly can’t think of a situation where it has served me well, but it really hasn’t in this one. The excuse thing is pretty common for our society and I am not blind to that or going to beat myself up too badly over it. I am sure it will always be a part of who I am, however, I’m going to work towards being more aware of the underlying feelings in each situation. (That isn’t to be read as “I will be a blubbering crying fool”) I’m going to focus on not reacting. Instead, when it’s important, I need to give things some real thought so I can express my fears instead of covering them up. I need to let down my guard a bit. Only then can I fully overcome all that life throws my way. Just don’t be too shocked when I’m using “I just got married” for the next 30 years or so!

Wedding Day

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Starting over

Starting over is hard, especially when it is something that has meaning and substance.  Sometimes starting over is the best thing in the world, but it doesn’t make it easy and when you’re in the middle of your “do over” it gives little reassurance.  

The past few years have been a huge time of growth for all of us.  The changes we have endured were none that we could anticipate, plan for or even imagine. The things we thought we knew, we realized quickly we didn’t. Some of the friendships and people we thought would stand united with us unraveled before our eyes.  Many of the decisions we were confident we would make faltered and we chose to make others.  Some of the changes were unrecognizable if we analyzed them daily.  Some of the changes were abrupt and shook us to the core. Now, looking back at where we started and the place we are currently, it is easy to realize we are so far from where we began.  We have rallied together, cheered each other on and sometimes had the heart to heart talks that we dreaded needing to have.  The words sometimes came easy and other times no matter how hard we tried to soften them, they stung and brought pain and hurt.    In the end, my family has stood, it has changed but it has stood.

Sometimes right in the middle of wishing time could stop so my heart could catch up something amazing would happen to give me the strength to keep moving forward.  Chad was definitely the most amazing gift I received in the middle of this not so perfect twist in the story of my family.  Not only has he been amazing to me but he has been an amazing asset to the kids’ lives.  Can I confidently say I knew from the start he was “the one”, no.  Can I say I welcomed the change, nope.  Can I say that everything was wonderful and birds chirped each time we kissed, ummmm, huh uh.  However, I can say that I knew pretty quickly that this relationship was worth any amount of effort I could give.  Almost two years into it, I am sure it has been one of the greatest gifts that I have allowed myself to accept.  

Saying goodbye to a past I gave my everything to is tough.  When I thought I was working towards forever, to have it shift was not easy.  Watching the people I cared about most fall apart before me was heart wrenching, especially when there was nothing I could do to make it better.  Trying to look strong when I felt incredibly helpless was not an easy task.  I still cherish everything that I gained in my relationship with Josh.  To say it wasn’t worth it would be to say that my six kids and all the life we lived wasn’t worth it, and it was, it so was.  Some of the greatest things I have today are because of the past I had and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.   However, my future looks amazing and there were some days that I was convinced I would NOT be able to say that.  Each step into my future is a step further from my past.  Some of those steps are easier than others. Admittedly,  I still have hard days as much as I am so thankful for the life I have with all these kids and Chad.     

Saturday Chad and I tie the knot. Not to mark the start of our relationship, but to recognize the bond that already exists between the two of us.  I am more than overwhelmed with excitement for what the future of our family will bring.  I love everything that Chad and I stand for and the faith that we each have in our relationship. Some of the most basic things that we were both deprived of in our past we bring to our future.  It will not come easy, we both know that, and it’s a risk we are willing to take. I am reminded of a quote when I think about one of the big lessons I have learned in  all of this:

 “Sometimes what you spend years building can be destroyed in a day, build anyway!” 

 That is exactly what I will continue to do.....build, build build.   

Learning to Breathe Again

It’s been 1 year, 2 months and 22 days since I last blogged. With each passing day, each struggle for change and every victory achieved, it has seemingly gotten harder and harder to think of a way to share my journey.  In that time, my life has dramatically shifted. In that time I have endured more than even I could recount or would ever want to re-live; and yet I stand here as a happier more whole person than I ever knew I could be.   

Countless people have encouraged me to share where we were at.  On days I was struggling I was angry for this nudge to voluntarily lay out for the world my journey.  I would think, “how dare you get some great thrill from my struggle.”  On days that I was feeling hopeful for my future and proud of the person I was becoming I would think, “Man, it’s great to be cared about enough that people wonder how we are holding up.”   Some days I worried I’d share too much, be too real, not real enough, etc. and in turn I was left without writing a word and further from a way I could jump right back on the band wagon of blogging.  The reality is, time has passed, my family has changed and my life has not stood still so maybe their isn’t a tactful way to update y’all.  Maybe its going to be choppy and lots of pieces will be missing.  The truth is, I miss blogging and I’m tired of fearing the whole question of where to start, so I’m diving in.  

I read a book years ago, “Learning to Breathe Again”, by Tammy Trent.  That book changed my life.  I don’t remember why I read it or even what message I got out of it at the time, but I know that countless times throughout the years I’ve referred to that book and recommended it often. Many times through my divorce I felt like breathing was a chore, something to be focused on if I wanted it to happen at all.  They say divorce is much like death, you go through the same stages of recovery.  As I look back in my journal I recognize each stage, I was a text book case to say the least.  Some stages I breezed through and other stages I got stuck and stayed for far too long.  With all recovery, the length of stay in each stage varies from person to person.  The best thing is, eventually you recover.  Eventually you decide you are willing to breathe again.  

I didn’t just recover.  As a matter of fact, I had a STRONG recommendation from my bestie, Pam  (who was way over my crying fits at all hours of the day and night)  to go to a divorce recovery class.  Actually, I ended up going because I thought I was ready to start dating and I thought maybe I would find some other thirty-something who was starting over and we could just do it together.  Unfortunately, on my first night of my 15 week class I signed an agreement to not date anyone in class until all 15 weeks were complete.  Not only that, but the class was a majority of women and a handful of men who were much more “mature” than I am (I do love these guys so just in case they read this I have to be a little bit gentle in my approach to the fact that they were all OLD and could be my dad!) In that 15 weeks I learned to love each person in my group.  All of us were in different places.  All of us were very different people.  All of us shared this one common thread, though and we bonded. Fortunately for me, as I sobbed over horror stories of custody battles, visited the delivery room of a baby born to an already broken family, agonized over betrayal, and sat speechless on many occasions; I realized that I could have it much worse.  I am positive I have not ever told any one of them how much I needed them, but all of them played a major role in my survival.  Eventually breathing started to be a little easier.

When you don’t frequent bars, have six kids and a desk job; finding a date is a little tricky.  I wanted to date. I feared being that single mom forever and raising kids and having no one to share my life with once they left.  I really did have nightmares that, behind my back, my kids would each pick a day of the week where they “had” to visit me so I wouldn’t be alone.  I imagined them dreading this obligation. In the dreams I actually had cats- which made my nightmare that much more frightening (no offense to all you kitty box cleaners out there.)  So, I took the plunge and got online to date.  Sounds hysterical, and I think it was alcohol consumption and a shove from behind from Josh that actually convinced me to just try it out.  As a matter of fact, Josh wrote my profile because you never realize how hard it is to share how great you are until you are doing it. This phase really should be it’s own blog post!  Boy, do I have some hilarious stories to tell about phone calls and dates, but the only one that really matters is the one I ended up winking at in October of last year.  Yes, Chad, I did just admit I winked at you first and I even announced it publicly. That one move has forever changed my life. That one move taught me that breathing could be effortless again.

Chad has 4 kids all the time, I said I wanted someone without kids.  Chad runs 2 miles only because he has to for his job and will not run an extra step, I said I wanted to be sure whoever he was he had a passion for running. Chad snowboards, I hate a breeze when I am out in 90 degree weather.  Chad hunts, I have a vegetarian daughter and like animals more than people.  I love the beach, Chad is loving life if he’s in the mountains. What I was searching for was not Chad, although I had no idea that Chad was perfect for me.  Our very first phone call I knew this could be something good, and on our first date we never stopped talking and each time I saw him I couldn’t wait to see him again. He makes my sides hurt from laughing, he adores my kids, values family, speaks truth when I want him to listen, makes me chase the things I say I want, shares his kids, lives with passion, strives to always do better, enjoys life to the fullest, clears the air with a triangle hold, sings out of tune but sings out loud (that one is for your enjoyment Emma), is more focused on teaching than discipline, dreams of always being “home” and so much more. He’s taken me from straining to breathe to effortless breathing without ever intending to do so.

What about Josh and the kids and everything that goes with that?  We’ve had our fair share of hurts, promises broken, tears shed, greatest fears realized and changes upon changes. However, we’ve also stuck together, laughed louder, talked deeper, been more proud, shown loyalty, developed trust and fought harder than ever before.  Josh and I have learned that we don’t know what we don’t know.  That everyday is a new one and with each new day is a new change.  Daily we learn how to navigate this new territory.  Gladly I still cherish who Josh is and his friendship is one that compares to no other.  The kids are kids.  They are resilient, accepting, socially more aware and ready for what life has to offer.  We are all, thankfully, learning to breathe (and blog) again.

I Chose Love

It is 17 days from being a year ago that our end was painstakingly evident. I am filled with hurt beyond your wildest imagination, awe that I’ve made it 348 more days when I’d felt like I was slowly dying, and pride knowing that everyday I made the decision to not let this “get me.” Over and over throughout this year I have been asked “how?” How can I stand by Josh. How do I keep a smile on my face? How do I not get angry? How do I continue loving him? How are the kids? How am I? How do I see our future? In a nutshell, just “how?”

I’m not sure I can fully convince you, or myself for that matter, that I had made a conscience decision on “how?” the day my world as I knew it was clearly going to be changed. No, I can’t tell you I calmly had the inner talk with myself and eloquently decided “how?” I didn’t look myself in the mirror and say “Ambyr, this is how you’re going to handle this! Ambyr, you will be doing ‘x,y and z’. ” Although, I do remember giving myself an ultimatum, an ultimatum that either I am who I say I am, or I’m not. Not just to Josh, but to myself and this world. Since then, I’ve found a great quote that I hope someday to put in my own words and hold as my mantra in life. It goes, “Trusting oneself to act with integrity remains an abstract exercise until real life challenges arise.” To say “real life challenges” arose for me, is an understatement of sorts.

I know, because some of you are even bold enough to tell me, that I may not be doing what you think I should be doing to take care of myself, my family and my relationship with Josh. I know that some of you have said to yourself that you’d be doing things so differently, and you actually can convince yourself that your way would be the “right” way. Sadly, I know that many of you have had long-winded conversations about what I am doing, how I am doing it and why I am doing it, with someone other than myself, and again, you convince each other that your way would be the “right” way to handle the situation. Just remember my little quote and realize that it’s “an abstract exercise until real life challenges arise” for you! Trust me, I get how you can think you’d do something, when in actuality, you might very well do the opposite if ever faced with that real life circumstance. Fortunately, for me and my family, I am doing the polar opposite of what I said I would do had I ever been faced with my reality. How? I really don’t know.

Had I ever acted solely on my feelings and every emotion that surfaced, we would be a hot mess right now. I have felt everything under the sun in the last 348 days. I can’t tell you for one second that I have always been in control, because that would be an absolute lie. I don’t believe it is even possible for a person to have everything together all the time. I can tell you though, and Josh would verify, that it took me only a few minutes of uncontrollable sobbing before telling myself I needed to make a choice. I had to stand up and decide that I would act with integrity. That I would be exactly who I claim I am. I guess that is the best way I can answer the “how?”

There comes a time in life when you just have to get up and make a decision. Where you put all your fears and “what if’s” behind you and you start moving in the direction that seems to be best at the time. For me, then, and now, I chose to love Josh right where he was at for the person I always knew him to be. Instantly, I chose to love. Did I have any answers concerning my family and our future? No. Did I know why this was all happening? No. Did I understand it all? No. Could I answer the question about homosexuality and hell and the bible? No. Did I need too? No.

You see, my choice wasn’t to uncover the answers, or to save myself from hurt. My choice wasn’t to protect myself from heartache and embarrassment or to blame. My choice was to love my best friend. End of story. I chose to love Josh when he wasn’t very lovable. I chose to love Josh when I was hurt. I chose to love Josh when he wasn’t even acting like himself. I chose to love Josh while I watched my kids fall apart. I chose to love Josh when the dreams I’d had were torn from me. I chose to love Josh when people were telling me to run. I chose to love Josh when I was left to answer the tough questions from our kids, family and friends. I chose to love Josh through his excitement about the future. I chose to love Josh through my fears of never finding the love I deserve. I chose to love Josh through broken commitments and half truths. I just chose that love was the focus at the forefront of my mind. If at the end of the day I could look back and confidently say “I loved him the best I knew how at every given moment” I wholeheartedly felt like we would be OK, better than OK, we would be great! Anytime things would get tough loving Josh was my focus, loving Josh is how I’ve gotten through all of this.

I don’t say all of these things to put myself on a pedestal, or to make Josh out to be some sort of monster. I only say all of what I am saying because I want to be clear that we all get to choose how we are going to react to the choices that the people around us make. I am not perfect, I have let my feelings and emotions take over my actions so many times throughout this. Countless times we have made huge progress forward in our relationship just to have me single handedly push us back ten steps. I regret each time that I have, and yet I acknowledge I am human and can not stay on track every step of this process.

I don’t claim to know where you are at, at this moment in time. I have not walked in your shoes, felt the pain you have felt or lived with your insecurities. I will not act as though I know how I would react in your particular situation, and as I said before “Trusting oneself to act with integrity remains an abstract exercise until real life challenges arise.” I do, however, want to challenge you on something for your own life, because somehow, someway, it has helped me in this tough time. I really want you to think about your biggest struggle right now. Maybe your husband is not gay like mine; maybe it’s your kids, your job, your neighbor, yourself or any number of things I can’t predict. I challenge you to choose to love the people involved. I challenge you to acknowledge your hurt, pain, sadness, loss, fears, insecurities, disbelief, and any other emotion that arises, and choose to still love. To realize we are all humans, none of us are perfect and all of us deserve to have unconditional love. Acknowledge that just because someone else is handing you something you didn’t plan for, does not mean that you are any less capable of loving them where they are at, and for who they have always been to you. Now is the time to not let someone else’s actions dictate your reaction.

I look back on my life now and realize how many times I’ve let my own selfish emotions get in the way of my choice to love someone where they were at. How many times a relationship has been severed just because I chose not to continue loving someone. I don’t want you to confuse loving someone as loving their mistakes, actions, faults and flaws. Trust me, I don’t love all of Josh’s actions in this, but I do LOVE Josh. I won’t dwell on the past, but for me in the future, I hope to take this concept into all my meaningful relationships. I wonder where I would be today had I chosen to just continue loving the people I said I loved, in spite of the choices they were making. Better yet, I know exactly where my family would be right now had I chosen to do anything other than loving Josh, like I had promised I loved him, for the past 17 years.

So, to answer the “how?” questions, I guess to sum it all up, I choose to love. 348 days ago I chose subconsciously to love my best friend, to not make this about me and our family but to just love him where he was at. From now on, I have the same choice in all my important relationships. It will no longer be a choice I fall upon, but instead, a premeditated decision that..........

Today, I choose to love.

One Way Street

Josh and I spend much of our week downtown working at various coffee shops. I am usually writing or editing on my computer while Josh meets, consults and coaches. I love it down there. I love the energy I get just being surrounded by people. I’m not even really a people person either. I used to hate going downtown, until King street in
charleston South Carolina. If you have never been, add it to your list of places to see before you die. I absolutely adore the charm, the cobblestone streets, historic buildings, and energy of the thousands of tourists who crowd the sidewalks. Now, Denver is unlike Charleston, and I get that, but once I fell in love with Charleston and we frequented King street, I couldn’t help but long for that energy when we moved back to Denver.

Monday was a day that Josh and I were downtown working. Emma had come with us because she is a budding photographer and we needed some pictures added to our website. The girl has talent (go check out our website www.joshuatreeworldwide.com and you will see all the photos she took at the bottom of the page in the photo stream section) so we hired her to find shots of as many different walks of life as she could possibly find. Again, she did an amazing job. From there we went to a coffee shop while Josh consulted with a client, then headed back over to us. We continued working for a few more hours and then Emma and I headed on back home.

If you know Emma and I very well, you know that 90% of the time we are laughing. Laughing at each other, laughing at ourselves, laughing at nothing, just laughing. As we left the coffee shop it was no different. Emma is fluent in sarcasm so she was making snide remarks about everything from how I was walking with my bag, to how I put it in the car, to how I was drinking the last sip of my green tea. When she gets in goofy moods like that I feed her frenzy by doing really bizarre things so she can at least be laughing enough not to talk anymore! I had made a U-turn out of my parallel parking spot and was headed down the street to home as I was laughing at Emma laughing at me. I was not really paying attention. As I turned left on the side street I looked up to see that the street was pretty narrow and a car was headed directly at me. I stopped our goofiness and said to Emma “Is this a one-way street?” to which she replied “I don’t know! I just know that one of you is crazy” then points at me and says “and I choose YOU, mom!” I am now laughing so hard I can’t see straight. Luckily for me, a parking lot was directly to my right so I didn’t have a very awkward situation on my hands passing the car coming at me head on. I pulled into a spot and we laughed until we cried at the chaos of it all, at her witty remark and at my inattention to detail. I wondered if Josh was watching us from inside the coffee shop and the mere thought of that made it even more funny. I’m still laughing my a** off as I type this!

Being the analytic that I am, later I started to relate that incident to my life and to others. Honestly, it’s funny how many times I’ve been cruising down the road of life and realized that I was headed straight for danger. Sometimes, it has been my fault. Maybe I wasn’t watching the warning signs, or maybe I was focused on other things. Either way, more times than not, I have been rescued by a “parking lot.” Other times, it was some other driver on the road that veered off course and was headed for me. Funny thing was, after Emma and I calmed down enough that day to be able for me to move my car from the parking lot, she reminded me that all day I had incidents like this. Not that I was constantly going the wrong way on a one way, just little annoyances with my driving. As we were first headed to meet up with Josh, we were detoured from construction work that was going on. Then we finally met up with Josh and as we got to him, and climbed out of the car, he changed the location we were going to go to. Then, as we followed him down the road to our final destination, he was driving at a snails pace because he was on his cell phone and distracted. We finally made it downtown and our luck was finally looking up when we found a parking meter.....uh, it just happened to be way further from our meeting place than we realized. Emma was right, all day I had my patience and luck pushed where driving was concerned. I wasn’t crying or beat down or burdened by it, I was actually unaffected because we still made it to everywhere we were headed.

This past year, I have had my patience and luck pushed with life in general. Many times, like Emma and I experienced, I have been able to laugh at my circumstances, be thankful for what could have been tragic, but wasn’t, and acknowledge that being crazy is something I can embrace. The road in life is sometimes marked with detours, I am pretty sure I’m on one right now. The great thing about a detour is that it’s sole purpose is to repair the old road and get you back on track to your destination. I believe that is what is happening now. A detour. Repairing our old path, but still headed in the right direction to our final destination. Will we hit pot holes? I’m sure. Will one of us be moving so slow the other gets impatient? Of course. Will Josh or I or the kids start heading down the road the wrong way? possibly, but seven other people are here to point their fingers in your face, call you crazy and show you to the closest parking lot.

I don’t think that we can predict what will happen in our future fully. I don’t think I can control the other drivers on the road. I just know that as long as I am paying attention to reaching my final destination, with Josh and the kids by my side, I can handle the little annoyances of my journey and be grateful I am always headed the right direction.

Defining Me

Today I haven’t gotten out of bed yet and I should be feeding my kids lunch by now. Luckily to them, on days when I just don’t “show up” to be their mom they have free reign of the house and pantry so they aren’t too effected by my lack of presence. I used some excuse when a friend called me that I was sitting in bed “working” on my computer. In all actuality, I just can’t get out of bed. No one really knows how much I hurt. I hope no one ever will. It is hard to even put into words the pain in all of this. The pain in knowing that what I dreamed, planned and worked at that is now gone is unbearable at times. Yes, the most important aspect, our friendship, is still here and is unshakable but that doesn’t stop the pain of all that is lost.

I had lunch the other day with one of the greatest friends I have, and have had for over ten years now. She knows me inside and out, flaws and all. While we sat talking and I was catching her up on the latest and not so greatest parts of my life she looked at me and said “each time I don’t hear from you for a couple of days I have wishful thinking that somehow everything is back to better”. No, not the case as much as I have the same wishful thinking. I have not had many days of not getting out of bed, considering the trauma, I should seriously be in a mental institution by now. Yeah for me that I’m not.

Days like today I repeatedly say things to myself to help me take one more breath, to smile one more smile, to write one more blog post, to kiss one more set of sticky lips. I tell myself the things that will reassure me that my problems, my situation, my hurts, my failures, my heartbreak and my pain do not define me. I am so much bigger than all of this. I have so much more to life than just his one piece.

I am a runner.

Although I just started a year ago, I love running. It helps me clear my head, helps me set and reach a goal every day, and keeps my butt from catching back up with me. Honestly, never in my wildest dreams did I ever think “I am a runner” would come out of this mouth. I am a runner though. I hope to someday run another half and even a full marathon. I have slacked here recently just trying to get on a good routine but I still managed to get in great mileage last week and have a plan for next week. So, I’m not just defined by this trauma but I am also a runner.

I am a blogger

I started this blog in 2007. When I started I wasn’t even really sure what I was going to write about or if anyone but Josh would read it and laugh at my life with me. Luckily for me people did read it and encouraged me to keep going. I get a kick out of my google analytics, especially when all of you from other countries show up on my visitor map. When anyone leaves a comment I want to do a little dance, but I wouldn’t be so mean to those around me by subjecting them to my dancing. More than anything, in all of this life drama I’ve needed blogging. It’s great to get things off my chest and to hear the encouragement I am getting. It does make me want to get out of bed, even if I jump right back in with my laptop. Again, I am not all about making sure I am holding my head high, I am not defined by that alone but I am a blogger as well.

I am a mom

When I got pregnant with Emma all those years ago now, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I had wanted to be a mom my whole life. Growing up, I was the neighborhood mommy. I knew where every baby and toddler in a three block radius was located and I had nailed down their moms work schedules so I could be at their house when they most wanted some relief. I love kids. I love my kids. They make me laugh until my sides hurt, they give me so much to be thankful for and they are a great reminder of the life I’ve shared with Josh. They are the most time consuming, stressful, selfish, even crazed little beings, but the pay off is all worth every sacrifice and every bead of sweat poured out. I love being a mom. I will always be a mom, even while I’m insecure and needy and wanting to throw in the towel, I am not just defined by those things but I am a mom.

I am a friend

Being a friend is the most important thing that I am. I consider myself to be a good friend. It doesn’t sound like a very “motherly” thing to say that the most important role to me is friend...ok, I’m fine with that, sorry to disappoint. I am a friend who is loyal, trust worthy, compassionate and forgiving. I screw up a lot. I am selfish and stupid at times. Josh of course, is the best friend I have ever had. He screws up too a lot more than me (....heehee! I’m kidding) and he is selfish and stupid. Although, nothing has ever compared to what I have in him and what he has in me. I’ve not given anyone else as much of myself as I have given him and continue to give him. We tease that we are Oprah and Gail .......I’m Oprah of course! ******side note: Josh it’s in writing on the internet now so I consider this battle won***** No, really, I will give him whatever role he wants to play as long as we stay “us”. The great thing is, it doesn’t matter to either of us (ok, maybe just a little). Gail and Oprah, Thelma and Louise, Bert and Ernie, Chip and Dale, Walt and Roy.......none of them compare to Josh and Ambyr. In all of this I am not just defined by depression, gay and divorce I am still a best friend.

I am so many things. Things including daughter, neighbor,divorced, writer, OCD, scrap booker, liberalist, ex-wife, unsure, driven and accepting just to name a few. Some things I can be proud of and hop right out of bed and share with the world. Other things I am sad, embarrassed, humiliated and perfectly comfy keeping my head on the pillow and my face buried in the sheets over. It’s my choice what I focus on, I know that. Hopefully today is just one of the very few days that I choose the ladder, my kids wont last long on left over birthday cake and chips.