Mar 10, 2011

What day is it?

I haven't written since Monday - I've apparently lost my muse. I've thought about writing. I even had a draft written. But most of the things I've found to write about this week were just griping and bitching and moaning and groaning - so what's the point? Doesn't help really.

Austin emailed me yesterday morning while I was sleeping and in his email he thanked me for having such a good attitude. A good attitude? Hmm, interesting. I thought I had a pretty crappy one lately, but I guess I've shielded him from that. He said that it helps him to know that I'm doing well, staying positive, being happy, etc. Then he explained how a few other people haven't been as fortunate with their wives' attitudes and it has really weighed on them. He went on about how I'm the best wife in the world, I'm such a good mom, he doesn't know where I find the strength, yadda yadda yadda. And while I loved reading it all, I felt a slight pang of guilt because I don't think I've had a great attitude. I think I've just chosen not to tell him. So, since it means so much to him and since technically I owe him after deceiving him, I'm deciding to try and adjust my attitude.

I need to adjust my attitude towards work, towards deployment, towards the army...maybe even more than that, but those 3 for now. A coworker of mine gave me a plaque for my office when I first came back to work after having William. He knew it was a tough transition for me to get back into the mindset that anything here at my job matters at all, because all I felt was that what mattered was at home. He said his mom gave him the plaque and he wanted me to keep it as a reminder and once I didn't need it anymore I could give it back. If you're wondering - I still have it. Here is what it says:
The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company...a church...a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string that we have, and that is our attitude...I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you...we are in charge of our attitudes

I miss Austin every day. I want to slap my coworker who gripes about her husband every day. I want to scream at my other coworker who does a happy dance when her husband leaves every weekend. I want to yell when people tell me the hours we're working are "hard on all of us". But none of those things are in my control. Maybe the women who gripe about their husbands don't have the love in their marriages that I do. Maybe the other people who are struggling with our long hours go home and don't have the precious baby boy sleeping down the hall that I do. I know we're all fighting our own battles, and I know that inflicting negativity on others because I am grumpy with my circumstances doesn't make my life any easier and it doesn't make their days any more bearable either. And if for no other persuasive reason, I know that Austin appreciates a good attitude.

From halfway around the world there's not a lot I can do for him. I can't fix the fact that someone lost their bags in transit 2 days ago and he, therefore, slept on the floor with a crumpled up uniform top as a pillow and a thin sheet as a blanket in 20 degree weather. I can't fix the fact that the food sucks or that he hasn't been able to workout since he got there. I can't make any of that better, among other things he's dealing with, so if all I can do for him is have a good attitude over here then I better get on that. And maybe soon I can give Kevin his plaque back.

No comments:

Post a Comment