A Transient Life

I think the biggest generic goal of parenting is to give your children a better life than you had.  That is not to say that your life was bad (though in some cases it may have been) it's just that you hope you learn from some of your own mistakes, some of your parents mistakes, and all you could ever want is to give them more than you've ever had.  The problem is, when you give them a completely different life than yours it is impossible to measure up and be sure that you've done your duty in ensuring theirs is better.

I graduated high school with a good majority of the kids with whom I graduated kindergarten.  I attended three schools prior to college with one pre-school before that.  I didn't move out of my first home until I was 16.  My parents were both home for dinner nearly every night, with a few exceptions when my mom was in college.  Maybe my dad missed a few too because of work, but if so they were so few I have no memory of them.

William has already had 2 preschools.  He has already had 2 homes.  My best guess is that he will attend a minimum of 5 schools before college.  He will most likely have at least 6 homes.  He has already eaten more dinners without his dad than with, and unfortunately many of the dinners he has shared with his dad have been without his mom.

Our lives are so, so different.

I spend a lot of time aching over the transience we are giving him.  I worry about the confusion he must feel over all of the recent changes and if he will ever feel stable.  In the last five months his dad has come home, we've gone on a long, extended vacation, we've packed up our entire house, lived with his uncle, then moved into a new house that looks very different than our old house.  Sure, we have the same couch and table and wall hangings, but that's about it.  He doesn't have a blue room.  He doesn't have a crib.  We have new furniture.  Our walls are all white.  Does he wonder what this place is that mommy and dada keep calling home? 

And, he unfortunately has to spend the next two weeks without dada again.  Sunday night as Austin was putting him to bed he asked for mommy at the very end.  He usually sends Dada to bring me in when he's about 5 minutes from falling asleep and Sunday was no different, except the first thing he told me was "dada is leaving".

Break.  My.  Heart.

I assured him that dada was just going to work and he'd be back and we would talk everyday.  He was fine - he wasn't sad or angry or upset, that was my job.  He was just matter of fact.  That's just how life is I guess.  He spent the entire day yesterday lugging dada doll around with him.  Dada doll upstairs, dada doll downstairs.  Dada doll watching Cars, dada doll playing cars.  Dada doll riding in the boss and the stroller and everything in between.  But he wasn't sad.  It was just what he needs while dada is away.

I found myself very sad about the life we're offering him when I realized - just because his life is different from mine, as different as they could be, doesn't mean his life is worse than mine.

He learned what mountains looked like before he knew how to say the word.  It snowed the day he was born and he got to explore all four seasons before he was one.  He met some incredible people who loved him dearly, some who always will, and they filled his days with love and laughter.

Now he knows the ocean!  He sees water every day.  He drives by boats in the bay on his way to school.  He has a new school where he is building new relationships and impressing new people.  He will soon get to go on a glass bottom boat ride and go to one of the world's most famous aquariums and see parts of the country I didn't see for 27 (or maybe 28 years...yikes).  And he's seen HIPPIES!  I don't think I saw a hippie until Forest Gump, but he has!

I don't know where the Army will send us next, but I know before we get there he will already have friends in Texas, Colorado, California and others scattered across the world who met him along their way.  I can't say that I am offering my child all the stability and comfort of never saying goodbye to his childhood home.  But I can say that I'm offering him so many other things.

Some better.  Some worse.  But overall, just different.  It's been a tough pill to swallow, but every day when I hear his excitement about the new place we are exploring I become a little more comfortable with the idea.