MAJOR changes...

Buried in a storage bin somewhere in one of our closets is a box filled with letters.  Letters full of encouraging words and Bible verses.  Letters full of mundane day-to-day details about the life of a college student engrossed in her studies, her jobs, & her sport.  Letters full of "i miss yous" and "i love yous."  Seventeen years ago i penned every single one of those letters.  They were all addressed to the same young man: Airman Basic James Carrabbia.

Seventeen years ago, I charged a plane ticket on a Discover card and flew with his parents to San Antonio, Texas to see him graduate from basic training.  Seventeen years ago,  he didn't have a single stripe on his arm.  Not long after that graduation ceremony, "Airman Basic" Carrabbia began his tech school & as the months and years went by he sewed on enlisted rank after enlisted rank.  By the time we were married he was a Senior Airman.  By the time we welcomed our first child he had sewn on Staff Sergeant & was faced with the decision of whether to leave the military behind and pursue his personal dream of becoming a doctor; or to stay in, complete a Bachelor's Degree, and try to become a Commissioned Officer in the United States Air Force.

Over the years I've stood back & watched him work tirelessly for our family. He ended up earning that Bachelor's Degree late at night; typing papers into the early morning hours after having worked a full day and coming home to take care of an 18 month old while I waited tables in the evenings so we could make ends meet. He traded a career field he loved for the commission because it offered a substantial pay raise & retirement benefits.  In doing so, he gave up his dream to become a doctor, to ensure my dream of being a full-time mom & provide a "constant" for the kids during these years of service when he is frequently absent from our home. This path he chose for his family has demanded endless sacrifice. Birthdays missed.  Christmases spent in desert dorm rooms.  First days of school he's seen only in pictures.  I've watched our kids take their first steps, bandaged boo-boos that needed "Daddy's kiss," & played "Easter Bunny" alone on many occasions.  I've never missed a moment, and he's missed more than I can count.  Even when he's home, if "duty" calls, he has to answer.  

Today is a big day in the Crabb Shack.  Today, the man who was once "Airman Basic James Carrabbia" without a stripe on his arm, received a letter informing him that he will soon be "Major James Carrabbia" with a golden Oak leaf on his shoulder.

Like all military promotions, this will bring changes for his career: greater responsibilities, new positions, more training and schools.  He'll miss more moments with our family as he meets the demands of his next assignment and all the while his eye will be fixed on the "prize" of providing the best he can for his family.  

I know he'd rather i didn't make such a fuss on days like today.  I know he doesn't like all the attention that this post will probably bring.  But I am so damn proud of the man that I share my life with.  He's a man of integrity, sacrifice, and service to others.  Sure, he's got his quirks and his flaws too.  But even his imperfections make him perfect for me.  Other than my words, I have nothing to offer him that will ever demonstrate the gratitude & pride that I feel every day that I stand beside him as his wife.  I am so excited to welcome the day that we are officially Major & Mrs. James Carrabbia.  

For My Mom

No single person that i have ever met loves their birthday more than my mom.  She counts down days (& sometimes months) until her special day arrives.  She's giddy when my kids call to sing her "Happy Birthday."  She loves getting presents and cards and candles on cakes and if you throw her a party (especially a surprise party) she'll be your bestie....forever.   So last month, i started a blog post that i was going to publish on her half-birthday to surprise her.  And since i couldn't ever seem to find the time to finish what i started, it inevitably joined so many other half-blog-posts i've written in the great blog-post graveyard that has become known as my "drafts" folder.  But i've decided to resurrect this post & finally finish it...exactly one month after her half-birthday.

When it comes to the dreams of motherhood that i dreamed, there were lots of ways i thought i'd be better at this than my mom was.  You see, by the time i gave birth to my first child at the wise "old" age of 24, i had spent just that many years studying her & had taken meticulous notes on all her flaws.  The minute they placed that sweet boy in my arms, my heart & head began swelling with the knowledge that i surely had this one in the bag.  If i had to sum it all up into a list of ways i would do it "better" than she did, it may have looked something like this:

 Worry less.  

Talk less.  

 Listen more.  

Be a better friend.  

  Never, ever, EVER miss a minute of the important stuff.

Now that i've got 12 years of this motherhood thing under my belt i've determined that i was a complete & total moron.  Worry less?  What the heck does that even look like? I birthed these kids.  & it is my sole right as the only one who has ever shared a space within my body where they could be nourished & grow to worry about them.  No one is the boss of me and no one can tell me not to worry.  Except Jesus.  Don't you fret, dear readers.  He reminds me regularly that worrying is neither my right nor my privilege.  But, since i'm being honest here, i kinda tune Him out on that one.  Because if ONE THING in their sweet lives may not go according to my plans & may potentially cause them harm, danger, or emotional distress then it is my right to worry about it because He knows that no one else on this God-forsaken Earth will worry about it like i will.  Good thing i'm not into "drama."

Also, i would love to talk less....if only they would LISTEN to me the FIRST TIME I SAY THE THING!!! Since they (almost) never do, i am obliged to talk until i am blue in the face.  And if they ignore me, i must say it LOUDER.  At least once a week i remind my kids that "i yell because i care."  If ever the day comes that i refuse to raise my voice and yell at the top of my lungs until they hear me they may assume that i am either dead or that i no longer love them enough to care that they actually hear me when i tell them about all the horrible things i am protecting them from becoming if they fail to listen to my words.

And as far as listening goes...i listen.  All the day long, i listen.  i listen about video games, & levels they beat, & pictures they colored, & movie lines that i, too, found hysterical before they quoted them 45 times in one day, & obscure thoughts their brains think about life & godliness.  God help me, i listen.  & if my children would EVER stop talking i would love to listen to the silence that i can only seem to find at the borderline-obscene hours of 5am & midnight.

As far as being a "friend" goes, that is crap.  That's not my job.  Not now, anyway.  Because i am the mom.  I not only said so, i KNOW so.  We can be friends when they have their own kids.  The End.

And as for not missing the important stuff...well, that's one i struggle with.  My mom missed a lot.  Track meets, awards banquets, honors ceremonies...sometimes it was because she was a single mom working 2 or 3 jobs to make ends meet.  Sometimes it was her choice.  Consequently, i don't let myself off the hook easily.  i guilt myself if i don't personally witness every tooth they pull and every goal they score.  Missing even ONE soccer practice makes me break out into a cold sweat.  & as much as i missed my mom at those events sometimes, smothering my own kids won't make up for how i felt.  So i guess i have to get a life that involves things i love OUTSIDE of my kids....Jesus & i are in deliberations about that one...

My mom wasn't perfect.  Not by a long shot.  And I ask the Holy Spirit to constantly remind me that i'm not either.  I wasn't then & I most certainly am not now.  But one thing i've realized in the past 12 years is that if i do this mother-thing with half as much love, grace, mercy, & forgiveness as she did, i'll be almost as great at it as she's been.  & i'll chalk that up as "success".

Happy one-month-after-your-half-birthday, mom.  

Resolutions

'Tis the season, folks.  You know...that time of year when we all promise stuff we are going to do more or better or less or not at all.  It's no secret that i think my kids are pretty much the most amazing little human beings God ever put on this Earth, but my 8 year old has did something 2 days ago that threw down the gauntlet.

We read a book recently for history about Benjamin Franklin.  Apparently he reached a point in his life where decided he needed to make some personal changes.  In order to keep himself accountable, he made a list of his "resolutions" & kept it in his pocket so he could pull it out & read it & remind himself of the man he was striving to be. This idea has inspired my 8 year old son, Nate.  Two days ago i found him in our classroom writing this:

He's been carrying it in his pocket & pulling it out & reading it to remind himself of the kind of "man" he wants to be. 

I've always thought New Year's Resolutions were kinda overrated.  Mostly because i never really stick to any of mine for more than a week or two and neither does anyone else i know.  But today (thanks to Nate) i'm captivated by the knowledge that this New Year will bring a new opportunity to reflect on the kind of woman/wife/mom/friend/sister/daughter i want to be and to keep myself accountable to make the necessary changes.  Carrying a list in my pocket?  Nah.  That's highly unlikely.  But if i were gonna make a list this is probably what it would look like:

More Sleep/Rest

More FaceTime with Jesus

More Love, Grace, Humility, & Compassion

More Thinking and Listening 

More Long Walks with the Dog

More Long Runs with my Ipod 

More Laughter, Books, & Time Invested in the 5 Most Important People in my World

Less Exhaustion

Less Electronics & Social Media

Less Personal Judgements, Criticism, & Complaining 

Less Talking to & Listening to Other People who Complain

Less Excuses

Less Trying to Capture Moments to Upload to Facebook & Instagram & just LIVING IN the Moments 

In a nutshell, I want to spend 2015 sweating, laughing, reading, and on my knees listening & praying rather than being physically, mentally, & emotionally weighed down by things and people that will leave no true, lasting, positive impact on the lives of the people i love.  I realize that may seem selfish or even downright mean at times to others who don't understand or who are too self-involved to ask why.  But i think this New Year needs to be a new start for a Nichole who is less plugged in to the chaos of the world around her and more plugged in to the beauty of the world within her walls.  

Go figure.  My 8 year old made me realize that if i really want to impact the world around me, i'd be wise to start with the people closest to my heart.  I always knew my kids were amazing...

Stop it. Do Something Better.

 I don't have a lot of words tonight.  My heart is sick & my stomach is in knots.  Seeing our Country at such a low is unbearable.  I can't check the news any longer.  I cannot make sense of such utter nonsense.

This is what we need people.  Black men & women.  White men & women.  ALL men & women to call for peace & unity.  We need to speak to each other like respectable, reasonable human beings instead of seeking change by means of violence & hatred.  We must love one another & our Nation enough to move forward and make true, lasting change.

Life is precious.  Not ONE MORE man, woman, or child should die because of stupid, senseless violence. Shame on those of us who are saying this is justifiable.  Shame on those of us who sit around & complain on twitter & facebook & social media.  Shame on those of us who add fuel to this horrible fire.  We should demand better of each other.  We MUST be the change we want to see.

Instead of reading all these ignorant comments on social media, we should all look around tomorrow & find ONE WAY to make our communities better.  Give a homeless person a meal.  Bake cookies and take them to a fire station.  Buy a vet a cup of coffee.  Check on an elderly neighbor.  Pray for peace.  Find SOMEONE, ANYONE in need & DO SOMETHING TO HELP.  Be part of a solution, instead of sitting around complaining about the problems.

Comment here.  Let me know what you did.  Inspire each other.  Be a good citizen.  Be a good American.   Be a decent human being.  Love your neighbor.

Give.

All day i've been thinking of what i would write about this evening.  I had several thoughts swirling around in my brain and then something happened tonight that trumped any idea my brain could've  conceived.  And i owe it all to an upcoming piano recital & the sweetest 7-year old girl i've ever known.

This wonderful moment happened several hours ago, as i was tucking our sweet girls in bed.
Pjs were on, teeth were brushed & flossed, hair was braided, prayers were prayed, and i had given the final hugs & kisses as i was turning to walk toward the door.  Our sweet 7-year old, Sophie, said in a very soft voice, "I hope i get an award tomorrow night."

Tomorrow night is no ordinary Saturday night for this Crabby Crew.  Tomorrow night is the Christmas piano recital that 3 of our 4 children have been practicing pieces for since late September.  It may not seem like much to an adult, but to these kids it's an evening they've been waiting for & a performance that daddy made it home from a 3-week TDY just in time to witness.  The outfits & dresses have been chosen, nails polished, hairstyles planned, & in the case of our 8-year old, Nate, his Chuck Taylors & fedora are ready for action.  This is a big deal to these little people.

To say that Nate is a "natural" on piano would be a gross understatement.  I could brag & tell you how he taught himself the first few lines of Fur Elise by ear within the first few months of playing piano before he could even read notes, but i'll spare you all the details.  At last year's recital, Nate received an award and he has cherished this award for the past year.  Sophie was disappointed that she wasn't chosen for an award, but she smiled and hugged her brother and told him how proud of him she was.  But since that day, she has practiced with passion.  She is a girl on a mission...and she whispered that to me this evening.  Of course, i paused & gave her "the mom-speech" about how she doesn't need an award to make us proud, etc, etc, etc...But her response to my speech is what brought tears to my eyes & made my heart swell with joy, love, & unbelievable pride.

While i was talking, Sophie realized that Jimmy has been playing guitar for 3 years but his teacher doesn't do recitals.  This means that he's never played in front of an audience & he's never had the opportunity to receive an award.  In her sweet, scratchy voice Sophie told me that she knew that she was going to ask Santa Claus for.  "I'm going to ask him for a guitar award.  And when i unwrap it, i'm going to give it to Jimmy.  As a present from me to him!"  Let's just say I didn't have a "mom-speech" prepared for that one.

But that's our Sophie.  She's truly a unique child.  She has this gift of generosity.  She's a sweet spirit who yells from the back seat of the van every time she sees a homeless person, begging me to stop and give them a blessing bag.  She will share anything with anyone...including the gift she plans on asking Santa for this year.

That generous child.  That sweet, giving spirit.  Tonight she taught her mother a thing or two about how to put others first....even when your heart is aching for its own desires.  I know she's just being who God created her to be...but i pray she never allows the world to change her.  Because she may never be rich in the eyes of the world, but that little princess is storing up her treasures in heaven.

Pen Pals and Postcards

Pen Pals rock!  Did you ever have a pen pal as a child?  Our 3 youngest children have recently embraced the dying art of letter writing as a means of keeping in touch with some friends who moved several weeks ago.  And today they received their first letters in the mail!  To say that they were thrilled is a ridiculous understatement.   There was screaming and squealing and ripping of paper as they tore the envelope open and devoured those words.  It was a thing of pure beauty, i tell you.  They laughed.  They sighed.  And when it was all over they ran upstairs and piled up on one bed and compared letters and shared "remember when" stories and giggled.  About an hour later, i found them there...with notebooks and clipboards and pencils, spelling words for each other and arguing over who was going to write the address on the envelope.  They even asked if we could include postcards with the next set of letters we send!

Unlocking the mailbox and finding that envelope that contained those letters made this afternoon like Christmas morning in our home.  And for those few brief moments, the sadness of missing friends that has followed them like a black cloud these past 2 weeks was finally lifted.  They found joy in just remembering what a precious gift it is to find friends and make memories.  Good, true friends can be hard to find in this world where people come and go and change their convictions like Hollywood celebrities change spouses.  I'm hoping that the thrill of these letters will strengthen their resolve to maintain relationships with the people who touch their little lives and hearts in this sometimes hard, always crazy journey we call "military life."

This military lifestyle is both a blessing and a curse;  full of big surprises and little ironies.  I pray that at the end of the road our kids are better, more compassionate people who live lives of service and sacrifice...and that they share those lives with a few dozen pen pals along the way.

We've interrupted this regularly scheduled life & blog....to have the flu.  Yep.  that's right.  pretty sure that's why for the past 3 days I have ached all day & all night from my eyelids all the way down to my toenails.  Which also explains also why blogging has been much lower on the priority list than say, blowing my nose or better yet....sleep!

Before i get into what i wanted to share tonight, i wanted to give an update on our Noticing November jar.  We've done it every day.  Without fail.  Sometimes twice a day.  Because the funny thing about gratitude is that the more time you spend intentionally looking for things you can be grateful for, the more things you actually notice.  Our jar is filling up fast & it's going great; except for the part where they act like they're casting some top secret ballot every time they sit down to write out a card.  They're all like:

"hey!!  don't peek at my card.  NOBODY PEEK AT MY CARD!"  

"Moooom!!  Nate's trying to read my caaaaaard!" 

(& my personal favorite was from Ella)  "mommy?  how do you spell bwain?  like, 'i'm thankful for my bwain.'  But i'm NOT writing that boys!!" 

Apparently they've embraced the "no reading them till New Year's Eve" mandate.  It's just whatever.

In other news, the past few days have made me VERY grateful for some incredible people in my life.  Yesterday, one friend (who has her own houseful of kids that she homeschools and NUMEROUS responsibilities in our squadron) took my kids for almost 2 hours.  She baked cookies with the girls, let her son & my boys load up on minecraft, & ordered me to nap.  In silence.  It was everything to me.  Another friend went to the store to get me lemon for my tea today & a box of cereal to make tomorrow a little easier.  Another friend offered to make me soup.  And my phone literally buzzed all morning while friends, both military and civilian, both in Alaska & other states, texted me checking in to see if i needed anything & letting me know that they were praying for me.  

Then there is the matter of these marvelous human beings i call our children.  I woke up to our oldest, Jimmy, sitting at the foot of my bed telling me to go back to sleep while he took "the kids" downstairs to feed them breakfast.  About an hour later, i stepped out of the shower, to find Nate & Sophie planting this surprise in my room:

This almost melted me into a puddle of mommy mush.  Don't get me wrong, the card & the stickers & the "perfect penmanship" that they used to sign their names inside were great.  But the bag of candy & what it represented was what did it to me.  They proudly announced that they wanted to give me a get well present, but they didn't have anything to give....except Halloween candy.  So they all chose my favorites out of their stash & loaded up a ziploc bag & affectionately signed it, "The Carrabbia kids."  That may not look like much to you.  But to me it meant the world because they gave generously from what they had. This is the kind of generosity that we strive to put in their hearts.  The kind that says "i may not have much to give, but what i do have i give with a smile on my face & love in my heart."

So while I may not feel physically well, in my heart i feel better than i have in days.  I get to live everyday of my life with 4 little people that are turning into 4 amazing big people with even bigger hearts.  i can't think of a better reason than that to be grateful today.