We all have our individual survival methods.  Techniques we develop and fine-tune to make sure we survive this life.  Because it's hard.  While we military spouses develop them individually, we find that they are similar to many others', which sparks long conversations about why one technique works and another doesn't. 

I can't count months!  Even though it's a smaller number, somehow counting weeks makes it seem shorter. 

Me, too!  Months are too overwhelming.

Each day, I post a positive status on Facebook. My goal is to finish out this deployment having never posted a negative status.  Recently a dear friend of mine commented on this, saying she hoped that they were all true and the life had been going well for us.  I laughed inside.  Most of the time, the statuses are true--I am able to find a joy in the life I have built and live for my girls.  The laughs, the stolen kisses, the games, the snuggles all provide a joy I've never known.  It's a joy that is confident, defiant.  Because I am winning despite the great struggle.

But, sometimes, I post positive statuses in spite of my day.  When tantrums, spills, potty accidents, and fussiness fill my day. When I cannot get ahead with the housework because I am going crazy chasing after a toddler and shushing a newborn.  I step up to my computer, force myself to find something positive about my day, and I post it. And then I feel better.  Because I am winning.  I am still finding the joy, even if it isn't as prevalent.

I am not perfect.

Recently, someone commented on a post of mine, intimating that I was a hypocrite, that I was proud and touted myself as perfect (signed anonymous--isn't that funny?).  Feeling the sting, I removed the post. I have since reposted it.

I never want to portray myself as perfect.  In fact, the point of my blog is to take my imperfection in this life and succeed despite it.  That I am trying my hardest to change my imperfection to some sort of attempt at bettering myself for the sake of my girls and my Soldier. 

I do not have all the answers. 

And so when "bad days" turn to a "bad week" or "bad string of luck," what's a girl to do?  I am at a loss today.  I can't win the potty training battle.  She's still having accidents.  I can't win the "keeping it all in  control" battle.  I am barely keeping it together between a tantrum-prone toddler and a demanding newborn.  The house is barely staying clean and I haven't done anything enjoyable for myself in weeks.  Emotionally and physically, I am exhausted.  This is tough.

A lot has happened during this deployment.  I look back on the past nearly year.  And I have survived some intense moments, prevailed through some heavy times.  So, when I don't have the answer for surviving the right now, I just look backward and realize that through all of the Crosses, the many weeks, the long months, I have remained standing.  The good times. The not so good times.  And the couple of really rough patches, I have stood standing.  Even though my footing has been uneasy and my confidence faltering, I have finished the day, the weeks, the patches, looking heavenward and still standing. 

I will make this.  To the end.  As imperfect as I am, I will survive.  And all the more joyful, all more wonderful will be my victory.  For it is the imperfect who are more likely to fail, more likely to fall.  But, despite it all--in spite of it--my gaze remains heavenward and my feet stand firmly on the ground.  Though it feels like my insignificant Crosses are crashing about me at times, though I feel as though the light at the end of the tunnel is a train, I will prevail.

Hypocrite?  Never.
Proud?  Ha.  Not me. 
Perfect?  Not yet.

But, I will get there eventually.  Until then, I fight the daily fight for my girls, for my Soldier.  And victory will be mine.  Because though I may stand on that parade field with my feet unsteady, I will still be standing there.  And my Soldier will finally be there, too. 

Charlie Mike.