Miracles of 2000-2003
When we left Korea, Joe had accepted a job back at Goodfellow Air Force Base in San Angelo, Texas. We had already been stationed there and were familiar with the area, and he was anxious to teach what he knew. He became an instructor for the very course that, 2 years earlier, he had completed. What can I say? He's a smart man. :)
We arrived in March and bought our first house. We were so house poor, but so proud to "own" our own home! We ate a lot of Ramen and took lots of walks. We did go on the occasional date when my parents would come visit.
Sunday night...Monday morning actually, on June 11 at 1230am (midnight), we got a phone call from Joe's sister, Cathy. It's quite obvious when you get a midnight phone call that something is very wrong. Joe's Dad had had a massive heart attack and died on his front lawn. He had been experiencing stomach problems. His father died less than a year before from cancer, and all Wayne ever worried about was dying the same way. It was slow and painful for his father, and he didn't want to die that way. We're pretty sure he knew he was dying because he left his house via the back door, walked through the back gate to the front door, and laid down on the lawn. Joe's mom got concerned after a few minutes and went to look for him. By the time she walked out the back and around to the front, it was too late. She had such a hard time because she felt like if she had just gone a few minutes earlier, she may have been able to save him. She literally jumped up and down on his chest to try to get his heart going again, but when Cathy arrived they knew it was over. Joe was obviously heart-broken. He had always been close to his Dad and they had a great relationship, but with us in Korea we didn't have opportunities for them to spend time together. When we had Chloe, Joe felt like he could truly connect, not only as father and son, but as father and father, and he was looking forward to having Wayne come spend time with us while we were in Texas.
Around 230am I went back to bed to get a few hours' sleep. I had already packed our bags and I knew I would need some sleep to deal with the girls on the long trip. Joe stayed up to make flight arrangements and grieve. He needed some time without me there, which is understandable. I woke up around 430 am. I think Joe woke me up, but either way, I had the funniest dream. It wasn't funny, "ha, ha," it was funny because it was so strangely real to me. I told Joe all about it:
I was looking up at heaven and Wayne was standing there with Jesus's arm around his shoulders. Jesus didn't have a face, but in the dream I knew it was him. They were both laughing at me. I said, "Wayne, why are you laughing at me?" He said, "You're finally carrying my grandson." Then I saw my son from birth to adulthood. He had olive skin, brown, wavy hair, and blue eyes.
Joe laughed about the dream. You see, at the time, we were trying NOT to get pregnant. Chloe was only a year old, after all. Also, the chances of us having a blue-eyed child were somewhere around 0. Joe has brown eyes, but his Dad had hazel -blue eyes. My Dad has brown eyes, and my mom's are hazel-green. My eyes are hazel-green. By hazel I mean that they do change color with my mood or what I'm wearing, but they usually stay green. Anyway, the other funny thing was the phrasing, "You're FINALLY carrying my grandson." Remember, when we had the girls, he had said, "She's beautiful, but she's not my grandson."
We left for the funeral and I told his entire family about the dream. It was honestly just the strangest dream I had ever had. It felt so real. It was the Sunday after Wayne's death, Father's Day. Joe was in his Dad's shed cleaning it out for his mom, having another mourning moment, so I decided to take the girls to a friend's house there in TN. She was actually Joe's friend, but I stole her. She's the one who took so long to fix my hair for my wedding. I was feeling quite sick to my stomach and I had missed my period, due 2 days before, but thought it was the sheer amount of stress that was causing it. I told her about my dream and Sherri said, "Tori, I have a pregnancy test. You should take it." I told her she was crazy. Her eyes almost popped out of her head as she tried to convince me to take the pregnancy test. I knew I wasn't pregnant and that it was just a dream.
I got back to Joe's parents' house around 6 that evening. I bathed the girls and put them to bed. The whole family was in the living room and I just couldn't take it anymore. I left. Keep in mind that I NEVER leave without telling Joe where I'm going and when I'll be back, and I rarely went anywhere without him anyway. I just left. I went to the store, bought a pregnancy test, and came back to the house. I by-passed his very confused family and went to the bathroom and locked the door. By this time it was 8pm. Joe knocked on the door, thinking I was grieving, and I politely told him to give me a few minutes. 3, to be exact. I came out with the pregnancy test in my hand and, with tears streaming down my face, said, "Happy Father's Day. He's a boy and his name is Joshua Wayne. He'll have olive skin, brown wavy hair, and blue eyes." Joe was shocked, to say the least, and NO ONE believed the dream but me. His Mom was thrilled, his sister and boyfriend (now our brother-in-law) wondered if we knew of any way to KEEP from having children since we were so good at making them.
We went back to Texas and I started throwing up. I have to be honest here. Joshua Wayne almost killed me. I was so sick with him, the only things I could eat/drink without immediately throwing up were hamburger meat with onions and cheese and caffeine free Dr. Pepper. One sip of water quickly because one sip of throw-up. This lasted for 5 months. During my 18th week of pregnancy, I got very sick with some kind of virus. Besides throwing up all of my food, it was coming out the other end and I got very dehydrated. Joe took me to the doctor and they admitted me into the hospital to get some fluids in me. I weighed 124 pounds at 18 weeks pregnant. I had actually lost 6 pounds in 18 weeks. (I weigh 130 right now, for those of you who are curious.) They gave me Phenergen which, I hear, is a fabulous anti-nausea medication. The funny thing is, my OB/GYN had given me a prescription for that very drug 2 weeks before to help control the nausea, but it was administered, uh, rectally, and I couldn't bring myself to do it, so it sat in my bathroom. Turns out, I'm allergic to it. I started having convulsions at the hospital. The next morning, my OB walked in to my room and laughed. She said, "I'm sorry, but isn't it the funniest thing that this would happen to YOU? You've had such a terrible pregnancy and I figured it would be better to laugh with you than cry with you." I laughed too, and we both thanked God that I hadn't used the Phenergen at home with 2 little girls running around. It would've been bad.
The next week I had my sonogram. Keep in mind that I've now told EVERYONE who would listen about my dream and that I was having a boy. Our good friends and neighbors went with us to the sonogram and when the technician said, "It's a boy," they, including Joe and my girls, whooped and hollered so loud we probably put someone else into labor. I didn't whoop or holler. I looked at them and said, in my most annoyed voice, "What in the world have I been telling you this whole time?"
I met my brother's future wife and future step-son in December. Jared was Caylea's age, around 4, and I wanted to have some fun with him. I had finally quick puking and was feeling pretty good, so I raced him to the mail box. It put me into labor. I was 32 weeks pregnant and, again, admitted to the hospital. It was a pretty good labor, too. They got it stopped somewhere around 3 cm dilated and told me to go on partial bed rest. In other words, I could do a few things, but really needed to keep my feet up. Well, I quit racing Jared to the mail box, but not much else. My Dad came to help me out and actually paid a girl that we knew from church to help me keep the house clean and chase the girls outside. I got up to fix myself a bowl of chili the day he left and went into labor again. They got it stopped pretty quickly, but they ended up giving me the steroid shots to develop Josh's lungs in case he was born early. I was lying so still in the bed while the nurse watched the contraction monitor. She turned and looked at me and said, "You know, no matter how quiet you are, I can tell you're having a contraction. Stop trying to hide it from me." Again, I'm just quiet in pain. I handle it all internally, which is probably most fortunate for those around me. You should hear the conversations I have in my own head.
At week 37 they took me off all pre-term labor medications and told me to go forth and have a baby. I walked and walked and walked. It took a week for all of the meds to wear out of my system and, at week 38, February 13th, 2001, I went into labor and knew I was having him soon. He wasn't due until the 26th, but that's okay. Caylea's labor was 9 1/2 hours, Chloe's was 8 1/2, and I fully expected Josh's to be somewhere around 5 since I was already dilated to 4 1/2 cm and had been fighting to keep him inside the last month. He had other plans. He was face up instead of face down. It's kind of like a breech situation, only not as serious. I labored with him all night and around 8am the following morning, an older nurse came in to talk to me. I had no drugs, no iv, had been walking circles around that hospital, but I was feeling well. She wanted to check my progress and realized that I was sitting around 7 but not progressing. She felt around my tummy and discovered the problem. She said, 'You have 2 options. I can either manually turn the baby or you can try and older method to get him to turn." I said, "What's manual?" She said, "I put my hand on his head and turn him." (Keep in mind that his head is considerably far inside of me.) That didn't sound fun. I said, "And option #2?" She said, sit like this...and put me in the most awkward on all fours position ever, kind of propped up like a dog begging, and said, "This might hurt a little," while she pushed one side of my stomach and shoved the other side. My water had already broken a little, but after about 2 minutes of her telling me to rock while she pushed and shoved, Joshua turned his little body the right way and the rest of the water broke. I had him 30 minutes later. This was a teaching hospital, so when I was delivering, my OB said, "Do you mind if a few students come in, including a high school girl who wants to be an OB?" I said, "Sure." Joe said, "No guys, please." So, we had around 10 students in the room looking at my hoo-ha as I patiently waited for the next contraction so I could push. Joe's mom was in the corner saying her 'Jesus' prayer over and over again, but everyone else was completely silent, completely serious. At the perfect time, beceause timing is really everything, I looked at everyone and said, "BOO!" Everyone laughed, and a few minutes later I had a baby. If you think I'm exaggerating, ask Joe, his mom, or any of those 10 people. Keeping your sense of humor is the key to living life to the fullest.
We brought our Valentine's Day present home, completely black and blue from being turned the wrong way for so long, and my parents met him 2 days later. His hospital picture still makes me cringe. You know what? HE HAD BROWN, WAVY HAIR, OLIVE SKIN, AND BLUE EYES AND HIS NAME IS JOSHUA WAYNE.
Caylea thought he was adorable and Chloe wanted to help me change his diaper. Keep in mind, Caylea was nearly 5, Chloe was a month shy of 2 years old. I let Chloe help, but when she saw his "boyhood," she said, "EWWW. What's THAT?" That's the easiest way to explain how boys are different than girls, all of you parents who don't know...let them change a diaper. Just borrow a friend's baby and make it happen. 2 weeks later Joe broke his wrist playing soccer and Chloe decided to wear big girl panties. She, like Caylea, pretty much did it on her own. I always tell people, because this happened to me,
You know you're a mom when you can talk on the phone WHILE breastfeeding a baby WHILE wiping a toddler's bottom. There is no greater joy.
We arrived in March and bought our first house. We were so house poor, but so proud to "own" our own home! We ate a lot of Ramen and took lots of walks. We did go on the occasional date when my parents would come visit.
Sunday night...Monday morning actually, on June 11 at 1230am (midnight), we got a phone call from Joe's sister, Cathy. It's quite obvious when you get a midnight phone call that something is very wrong. Joe's Dad had had a massive heart attack and died on his front lawn. He had been experiencing stomach problems. His father died less than a year before from cancer, and all Wayne ever worried about was dying the same way. It was slow and painful for his father, and he didn't want to die that way. We're pretty sure he knew he was dying because he left his house via the back door, walked through the back gate to the front door, and laid down on the lawn. Joe's mom got concerned after a few minutes and went to look for him. By the time she walked out the back and around to the front, it was too late. She had such a hard time because she felt like if she had just gone a few minutes earlier, she may have been able to save him. She literally jumped up and down on his chest to try to get his heart going again, but when Cathy arrived they knew it was over. Joe was obviously heart-broken. He had always been close to his Dad and they had a great relationship, but with us in Korea we didn't have opportunities for them to spend time together. When we had Chloe, Joe felt like he could truly connect, not only as father and son, but as father and father, and he was looking forward to having Wayne come spend time with us while we were in Texas.
Around 230am I went back to bed to get a few hours' sleep. I had already packed our bags and I knew I would need some sleep to deal with the girls on the long trip. Joe stayed up to make flight arrangements and grieve. He needed some time without me there, which is understandable. I woke up around 430 am. I think Joe woke me up, but either way, I had the funniest dream. It wasn't funny, "ha, ha," it was funny because it was so strangely real to me. I told Joe all about it:
I was looking up at heaven and Wayne was standing there with Jesus's arm around his shoulders. Jesus didn't have a face, but in the dream I knew it was him. They were both laughing at me. I said, "Wayne, why are you laughing at me?" He said, "You're finally carrying my grandson." Then I saw my son from birth to adulthood. He had olive skin, brown, wavy hair, and blue eyes.
Joe laughed about the dream. You see, at the time, we were trying NOT to get pregnant. Chloe was only a year old, after all. Also, the chances of us having a blue-eyed child were somewhere around 0. Joe has brown eyes, but his Dad had hazel -blue eyes. My Dad has brown eyes, and my mom's are hazel-green. My eyes are hazel-green. By hazel I mean that they do change color with my mood or what I'm wearing, but they usually stay green. Anyway, the other funny thing was the phrasing, "You're FINALLY carrying my grandson." Remember, when we had the girls, he had said, "She's beautiful, but she's not my grandson."
We left for the funeral and I told his entire family about the dream. It was honestly just the strangest dream I had ever had. It felt so real. It was the Sunday after Wayne's death, Father's Day. Joe was in his Dad's shed cleaning it out for his mom, having another mourning moment, so I decided to take the girls to a friend's house there in TN. She was actually Joe's friend, but I stole her. She's the one who took so long to fix my hair for my wedding. I was feeling quite sick to my stomach and I had missed my period, due 2 days before, but thought it was the sheer amount of stress that was causing it. I told her about my dream and Sherri said, "Tori, I have a pregnancy test. You should take it." I told her she was crazy. Her eyes almost popped out of her head as she tried to convince me to take the pregnancy test. I knew I wasn't pregnant and that it was just a dream.
I got back to Joe's parents' house around 6 that evening. I bathed the girls and put them to bed. The whole family was in the living room and I just couldn't take it anymore. I left. Keep in mind that I NEVER leave without telling Joe where I'm going and when I'll be back, and I rarely went anywhere without him anyway. I just left. I went to the store, bought a pregnancy test, and came back to the house. I by-passed his very confused family and went to the bathroom and locked the door. By this time it was 8pm. Joe knocked on the door, thinking I was grieving, and I politely told him to give me a few minutes. 3, to be exact. I came out with the pregnancy test in my hand and, with tears streaming down my face, said, "Happy Father's Day. He's a boy and his name is Joshua Wayne. He'll have olive skin, brown wavy hair, and blue eyes." Joe was shocked, to say the least, and NO ONE believed the dream but me. His Mom was thrilled, his sister and boyfriend (now our brother-in-law) wondered if we knew of any way to KEEP from having children since we were so good at making them.
We went back to Texas and I started throwing up. I have to be honest here. Joshua Wayne almost killed me. I was so sick with him, the only things I could eat/drink without immediately throwing up were hamburger meat with onions and cheese and caffeine free Dr. Pepper. One sip of water quickly because one sip of throw-up. This lasted for 5 months. During my 18th week of pregnancy, I got very sick with some kind of virus. Besides throwing up all of my food, it was coming out the other end and I got very dehydrated. Joe took me to the doctor and they admitted me into the hospital to get some fluids in me. I weighed 124 pounds at 18 weeks pregnant. I had actually lost 6 pounds in 18 weeks. (I weigh 130 right now, for those of you who are curious.) They gave me Phenergen which, I hear, is a fabulous anti-nausea medication. The funny thing is, my OB/GYN had given me a prescription for that very drug 2 weeks before to help control the nausea, but it was administered, uh, rectally, and I couldn't bring myself to do it, so it sat in my bathroom. Turns out, I'm allergic to it. I started having convulsions at the hospital. The next morning, my OB walked in to my room and laughed. She said, "I'm sorry, but isn't it the funniest thing that this would happen to YOU? You've had such a terrible pregnancy and I figured it would be better to laugh with you than cry with you." I laughed too, and we both thanked God that I hadn't used the Phenergen at home with 2 little girls running around. It would've been bad.
The next week I had my sonogram. Keep in mind that I've now told EVERYONE who would listen about my dream and that I was having a boy. Our good friends and neighbors went with us to the sonogram and when the technician said, "It's a boy," they, including Joe and my girls, whooped and hollered so loud we probably put someone else into labor. I didn't whoop or holler. I looked at them and said, in my most annoyed voice, "What in the world have I been telling you this whole time?"
I met my brother's future wife and future step-son in December. Jared was Caylea's age, around 4, and I wanted to have some fun with him. I had finally quick puking and was feeling pretty good, so I raced him to the mail box. It put me into labor. I was 32 weeks pregnant and, again, admitted to the hospital. It was a pretty good labor, too. They got it stopped somewhere around 3 cm dilated and told me to go on partial bed rest. In other words, I could do a few things, but really needed to keep my feet up. Well, I quit racing Jared to the mail box, but not much else. My Dad came to help me out and actually paid a girl that we knew from church to help me keep the house clean and chase the girls outside. I got up to fix myself a bowl of chili the day he left and went into labor again. They got it stopped pretty quickly, but they ended up giving me the steroid shots to develop Josh's lungs in case he was born early. I was lying so still in the bed while the nurse watched the contraction monitor. She turned and looked at me and said, "You know, no matter how quiet you are, I can tell you're having a contraction. Stop trying to hide it from me." Again, I'm just quiet in pain. I handle it all internally, which is probably most fortunate for those around me. You should hear the conversations I have in my own head.
At week 37 they took me off all pre-term labor medications and told me to go forth and have a baby. I walked and walked and walked. It took a week for all of the meds to wear out of my system and, at week 38, February 13th, 2001, I went into labor and knew I was having him soon. He wasn't due until the 26th, but that's okay. Caylea's labor was 9 1/2 hours, Chloe's was 8 1/2, and I fully expected Josh's to be somewhere around 5 since I was already dilated to 4 1/2 cm and had been fighting to keep him inside the last month. He had other plans. He was face up instead of face down. It's kind of like a breech situation, only not as serious. I labored with him all night and around 8am the following morning, an older nurse came in to talk to me. I had no drugs, no iv, had been walking circles around that hospital, but I was feeling well. She wanted to check my progress and realized that I was sitting around 7 but not progressing. She felt around my tummy and discovered the problem. She said, 'You have 2 options. I can either manually turn the baby or you can try and older method to get him to turn." I said, "What's manual?" She said, "I put my hand on his head and turn him." (Keep in mind that his head is considerably far inside of me.) That didn't sound fun. I said, "And option #2?" She said, sit like this...and put me in the most awkward on all fours position ever, kind of propped up like a dog begging, and said, "This might hurt a little," while she pushed one side of my stomach and shoved the other side. My water had already broken a little, but after about 2 minutes of her telling me to rock while she pushed and shoved, Joshua turned his little body the right way and the rest of the water broke. I had him 30 minutes later. This was a teaching hospital, so when I was delivering, my OB said, "Do you mind if a few students come in, including a high school girl who wants to be an OB?" I said, "Sure." Joe said, "No guys, please." So, we had around 10 students in the room looking at my hoo-ha as I patiently waited for the next contraction so I could push. Joe's mom was in the corner saying her 'Jesus' prayer over and over again, but everyone else was completely silent, completely serious. At the perfect time, beceause timing is really everything, I looked at everyone and said, "BOO!" Everyone laughed, and a few minutes later I had a baby. If you think I'm exaggerating, ask Joe, his mom, or any of those 10 people. Keeping your sense of humor is the key to living life to the fullest.
We brought our Valentine's Day present home, completely black and blue from being turned the wrong way for so long, and my parents met him 2 days later. His hospital picture still makes me cringe. You know what? HE HAD BROWN, WAVY HAIR, OLIVE SKIN, AND BLUE EYES AND HIS NAME IS JOSHUA WAYNE.
Caylea thought he was adorable and Chloe wanted to help me change his diaper. Keep in mind, Caylea was nearly 5, Chloe was a month shy of 2 years old. I let Chloe help, but when she saw his "boyhood," she said, "EWWW. What's THAT?" That's the easiest way to explain how boys are different than girls, all of you parents who don't know...let them change a diaper. Just borrow a friend's baby and make it happen. 2 weeks later Joe broke his wrist playing soccer and Chloe decided to wear big girl panties. She, like Caylea, pretty much did it on her own. I always tell people, because this happened to me,
You know you're a mom when you can talk on the phone WHILE breastfeeding a baby WHILE wiping a toddler's bottom. There is no greater joy.
That time period, February-May, was the most stressful of my adult life. I can honestly say I was so overwhelmed that I had no idea how to just be calm. My house had to be perfect, my children had to be clean, and I had to wait on Joe hand and foot because he's so right dominant. My kids have all been taught how to use both hands, by the way. They can write, throw, and eat left-handed. My Dad taught me and, thank goodness, that is one thing he did that I followed with my kids. I wish Joe's Dad had taught him!
Joe's mom had moved in with us while I was on bed-rest and then bought her house 3 miles from us when we had Joshua. She was so good to me during that time. I took some college classes. I was in class when 9/11 happened. Caylea was in Kindergarten and I read to her class every Tuesday and Thursday. Chloe "helped" me read by bringing every book on the classroom shelf and Joshua crawled around and drooled on everyone. The kids loved it. They thought Chloe was adorable and smart because she talked more than most of them, and they thought Josh was just the cutest thing ever. He really was a happy baby.
Joe's mom had moved in with us while I was on bed-rest and then bought her house 3 miles from us when we had Joshua. She was so good to me during that time. I took some college classes. I was in class when 9/11 happened. Caylea was in Kindergarten and I read to her class every Tuesday and Thursday. Chloe "helped" me read by bringing every book on the classroom shelf and Joshua crawled around and drooled on everyone. The kids loved it. They thought Chloe was adorable and smart because she talked more than most of them, and they thought Josh was just the cutest thing ever. He really was a happy baby.
Mamaw moved back to TN for a little while. She was feeling restless, and Wayne's death was only a year past. Joe started talking about retiring in the Air Force and I knew that he wouldn't be happy in his current position. He's a born leader and needed to lead. I said something to the effect of, "If you want to put 20 years in, you better finish your degree and put some bars on those arms." A few CLEP tests later, he had his Bachelor's. (I wasn't kidding when I was he is a VERY smart man.) He got accepted to Officer Training School in Montgomery, AL. He had to go for 3 months while I stayed in TX with the kids. His Mom flew down to visit once while he was gone. She missed her grandbabies. My parents also visited frequently. We only lived a 7 hour drive away from them and they own their own business, so federal holidays that were 3-day weekends became opportunities for them to come see us. I used the time while Joe was gone to get Josh sleeping through the night (at 15 months old). The first night he cried from 11pm until 530 am and then I fought him all day to keep him awake. The second night he cried from 10 until 2, and the third night he cried from 8-830 and didn't peep again until 530. I don't mind waking up early if I've been allowed to sleep. You see, Joe didn't like hearing Joshua (or any of our kids) cry, so I was sent to keep them quiet at night. With Joe gone, Josh and I had a mini-battle of the wills. I also toughened him up quite a bit. He would run by and I would trip him on purpose, then clap for his "fabulous fall." After the first few times he figured out how to avoid falling and, to this day, it's a favorite game we play. (Hey, when you've got 2 kids who cry easily (Caylea and Joshua) and one who is tough as nails (Chloe), you prefer that they learn from the tough one and quit crying over every little scrape and bruise. I don't know if Caylea will ever quit being so dramatic, but Josh is definitely a tough guy now.)
We went to Joe's OTS graduation and his mom pulls out this whopper of a ring and says, "Look what I did." She had met a man on the plane on the way home from visiting me and the kids that summer. She married him 3 weeks later. Joe was shocked. We all were. It's just not in her character to be so spontaneous. Pop is a GREAT guy, though, and once the shock wore off, we took him right in. Joe's Mom gave him his first salute on behalf of his Dad. The whole room was in tears except for me. I was in the back of the room, glancing up at Joe when I could, while chasing Joshua around.
We met some friends at OTS. We had to continue on in San Angelo for the officer training, which was a God-send. We didn't have to move 3 times that year like most people did. We moved to Tyndall Air Force Base, Florida in June 2003 to start Joe's military career. The kids were thrilled to be at the beach. I was thrilled too, because our friends got the same assignment. There's always a great comfort when you move somewhere but there's someone you know.
God always provides a way when you just ask Him. Every move we've ever made has pulled us together more and more as a family, and we're so blessed to have been the places we've been. I guess that's why I wanted to start writing down what I remember of it all. Maybe our moving experiences will help other people see that it's not so bad after all. We'd love to eventually retire somewhere adn settle down, but we're going to travel while we're young and enjoy this life God has given us. Our kids will just have to go along for the ride!
We went to Joe's OTS graduation and his mom pulls out this whopper of a ring and says, "Look what I did." She had met a man on the plane on the way home from visiting me and the kids that summer. She married him 3 weeks later. Joe was shocked. We all were. It's just not in her character to be so spontaneous. Pop is a GREAT guy, though, and once the shock wore off, we took him right in. Joe's Mom gave him his first salute on behalf of his Dad. The whole room was in tears except for me. I was in the back of the room, glancing up at Joe when I could, while chasing Joshua around.
We met some friends at OTS. We had to continue on in San Angelo for the officer training, which was a God-send. We didn't have to move 3 times that year like most people did. We moved to Tyndall Air Force Base, Florida in June 2003 to start Joe's military career. The kids were thrilled to be at the beach. I was thrilled too, because our friends got the same assignment. There's always a great comfort when you move somewhere but there's someone you know.
God always provides a way when you just ask Him. Every move we've ever made has pulled us together more and more as a family, and we're so blessed to have been the places we've been. I guess that's why I wanted to start writing down what I remember of it all. Maybe our moving experiences will help other people see that it's not so bad after all. We'd love to eventually retire somewhere adn settle down, but we're going to travel while we're young and enjoy this life God has given us. Our kids will just have to go along for the ride!
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