April was the month of the military child...but my April was a little crazy and I never got to blog about it. So I'm going to try to catch up today.
I bet most of you in the civilian world had no idea that April was the month of the military child. Since it was Autism Awareness Month and Child Abuse Awareness Month as well, it is easy to miss. When you live on post and are part of a military family, the month of the military child get a lot of airplay. There are special free activities and giveaways, and the kids are really given recognition for thriving wherever they are planted. But in the "regular" world, military children don't often get treated as though they are special in any way....and while I am not trying to say that somehow MY children are more special than any other children, military children as a whole live a very different life and sometimes need to be honored for the things they endure and the sacrifices they are forced to make.
My husband signed on for this life. He wasn't forced; he wasn't drafted. He knew for a long time that this was the choice he was going to make...to serve his country and his fellow man. I don't mean to sound like some kind of propaganda film, but for my husband it REALLY was that altruistic. He is truly a good, moral, upstanding man....I think he might even be a great man although he's going to hate me saying that.
I signed on for this too. I knew when we were dating that he was going to get commissioned. I knew if I married him, it meant potentially living all over the world. I knew I would have to face deployments, weird living conditions, and not living near family. I knew I would have LOTS of jobs, but never a career of my own. I knew that it would mean starting over every three years or so. Did I always truly understand that? Not at all. But I knew and I made my choice.
But my kids....they did not have the luxury of making a choice.
The way I have justified that to myself is by saying, "They don't know any different," but in reality that is a lie. They didn't know the difference as long as we lived on post, but once we moved out into the regular civilian world, they instantly knew. So in reality, Sarah has known since she was five and Nick definitely since he was 7.
They are army brats....and don't be offended. BRAT to me means "Being raised in the army tradition". It really is positive. It is a tradition, and it is a special club. Really only other army brats understand their lives. I wouldn't be surprised if my kids told me that they are more comfortable with friends who also have a parent in the army....I have never heard them say that, but I would totally get it if they did.
Nick and Sarah have been to five different schools in five different states; by army standards, that isn't very many. Their dad has been deployed twice for a total of 18 months; that is ALSO not a lot. They have been fortunate. But that doesn't change the fact that they have to recreate their lives every three years; they have to leave behind friends. They never get to put down roots.
They can never answer the question "Where are you from?" They have a really hard time remembering what things happened in which duty station. Playing on the same sports teams with the same coaches year after year will never happen.
They don't grow up going to grandma's house on Sundays or all the holidays....in fact, they don't REALLY know most of their relatives too well. Most of our family doesn't visit much, so they really only see the relatives when we travel to them.
And despite those things, they are really awesome, resilient, well-adjusted human beings. They are moral, kind-hearted, smart, responsible (except around the house), and funny. They handle all the changes in their lives with aplomb...far better than I do sometimes and CERTAINLY better than I would have as a kid.
They are absolutely the light of my life.
