Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Guilty as charged

Today As I was driving my son to school and dropping the other two boys off at the turnstile, thoughts of our future came pouring in. They were not necessarily happy thoughts either. I am a mom, first and foremost and I need to provide the best for my kids. However, being a military family makes that just a little more difficult than your average mom.

In just a few short weeks my family will be on the move once again. This will be our 3rd state, 3rd house, and the kids 3rd school in one single calendar year. Yep, you read that right. In one years time we will have lived in 3 separate locations. So when I get to thinking about schools I start to feel myself panicking on the inside. My children are resilient, I know this. My children are exceptionally intelligent, I know this too. But what I don't know scares me.

You know, how will they be accepted in their new school? Will they be able to make as good of friends as they have here and D.C.? Will they be behind in school or certain subjects like when we arrived here? Is this fair to my children? Will they be mad at me in 10 years time when they are teenagers near or past high school graduation? All of this questions are running rampant in my little head today. I am not sure how to deal with them.

Last night we were sitting at the dinner table talking about all the countries Zeus has visited throughout his military career. It was rather amazing. But then we started talking about our roots. Like that question people ask you regularly, Where are you from? Omega asked mom, what do I tell them? Where am I from Mommy? My heart immediately sank and felt like it shattered into a million pieces on the dinner table. I felt terrible for him. I felt like a failure in that mere instant. What have we done to this beautiful precious babies? I gained my composure and told him of the story of the military child, also known as the military brat. The child that does not call any specific city or state home. The child that has friends in just about every state you can name. The child that knows more about Muslim countries and foreign lands than most adults. That child that depends on his or her parents for safety. That child who makes friends faster than you can unpack boxes.

I had to remind myself that these type of children are special, unique and well loved. My husband nor I were military brats. We did not understand military life until be became airmen ourselves. So neither of us understand even remotely what our own children might be feeling or experiencing. It is scary and sad all at the same time. Through all the preparations and planning for our move in 6 wks, I feel guilty. Guilty for the babies in not having a "home". Guilty for not being able to see their best friends often. Guilty for not being able to continue schooling in one system. Guilty for riping their hearts out every time we move. Guilty for all the nots that are out of my control. Guilty that they must suffer. Guilty that they do not know their extended family.

That's me Guilty as Charged.