Deception of Social Media

With the Internet we have all the world at our finger tips. Yet with the over abundance of social media we fall into the trap of comparing our everyday lives to someone else’s highlight reel.

Let’s be realistic. We don’t have fun, memorable evenings with our closest friends every night. We don’t work out every day, have the greatest, problem-free love story, eat only amazing meals, and travel non-stop. Even pilots’ wives don’t travel constantly, despite what you interpret from our Instagrams.

A pilot’s wife’s life is not easy or always filled with jet setting. We have plenty of lonely, rainy nights like tonight. We go to many parties and weddings alone. We nurse ourselves and our babies back from sicknesses and surgeries alone. It’s not easy, but we have learned to work really hard.

Sometimes, to help get through those exhausting and stressful days, we have getaways where we fly standby to hopefully catch a few rays and sight see. We cross our fingers that we get there and not loose money on hotel reservations because we are spending the evening in an airport in Appleton, WI. It is a perk, but I’ve had many trips where we spent more time trying to get home than we actually spent in our destination.

But on social media, all you see are the pictures. I have found myself not posting things I would like to share with my family and friends because of passive aggressive comments that stem from jealousy. My intention is to never make people feel badly or cause hurt feelings but simply to share in exciting times, the same way I like to see when my friends get promotions, new homes, married, or babies. I hate that we have created a society that retreats to jealousy before rejoicing. I hate that people feel the need to make themselves look better so they can feel better about themselves.

I don’t mean to sound negative. I know that I live a charmed life and I like to share it with those close to me. I want to be able to share my blessings, but people don’t always see behind the cover. This is for more than just pilots’ wives. You never know what someone has gone through to get where they are. You may judge people by their choices, but you don’t know what they had to choose from. So when in doubt, choose love and joy and I promise life gets more beautiful.

Note whore

I'm a sucker for notes. Mailed, hidden, left on the counter, written on the mirror from the shower steam. My husband is often the victim of my obsession on making sure people know what I think of them through the written word. For birthdays, Christmas, anniversary, national ice cream day, my husband gets a card. Usually more than one. I hide them in his bag, fold them into paper airplanes, put glitter in them. I'm like a five year old on speed at a craft store with a credit card. 

In addition I have a ridiculous amount of stationary and personalized letterhead. But this week I couldn't resist. I saw these sticky notes and can't wait to hide them in DH's bag. Hehe ... I'm going to drive him nuts ... But I can't use them for anyone else so he better just suck it up and appreciate it! 

D Day

Oh the dangers of departure day. 

DH started long haul almost three years ago. Since then, I am starting to realize I respond in so many different ways. Regional lines I had no problem with, but heading into a trip knowing it's about 18 days is more difficult. 

Reaction one - picking fights. The night before he leaves, typically when he's packing, I get frustrated and angry over stupid stuff. Finally my understanding husband simply sighed and said, "you're anxious because I'm leaving tomorrow." Lightbulb. He was completely right. Any issue that has come up I want to discuss and resolve that night instead of enjoying the time together. Last night hubs avoided that by promptly taking me for ice cream. He knows he's audience. 

Reaction two - physically ill. I didn't realize the correlation till recently. The human body continues to amaze me with how it reacts. 

Reaction three - sweat it away. This is my go-to. I hit the gym for a few hours. I release endorphins and feel better about myself. Definitely my most healthy reaction. 

Reaction four - self-indulgence. Direct inverse relationship with number three, but sometimes wings or queso just make you feel better. 

Reaction  - retail therapy. I always feel the need to treat myself. Pedicure, new top, something. Something physical to distract me from being emotional. Such was the case today. I perhaps took it a little extreme today. The sunny skies and warm air had me ona roll at the outlets. Oh well, I'll just inform hubs after his next leg ... When he's in Honolulu. 

Lucky, lucky readers

Lets be honest about this ... I suck at blogging. Partly because of the nature of this blog. Every time I sit to write I'm motivated by frustration. Who wants to read a blog that's completely made up of venting? But I guess in all reality I never wrote this for anyone but myself and to be apart of the airline wives community. 

When I was in high school, there was a website called Teen Open Diary. It was a precursor to MySpace and even Blogs ... And I was obsessed. Why? I think mostly for the therapy in all of it. Not that you necessarily need, or want, anyone to read. More to put it in the universe and hope that karma, the good kind, comes back to you. 

So with that, I will write more. PLUS,!8 just discovered the Blogger app. Now I can blog while I pee. Aren't you lucky readers?

10 Minutes

I'm a sucker for resolutions. I write them down, organize them, write out a twelve step program that will ensure success ... and that's it. I spend more time thinking of ways to improve myself then I actually spend adhering to the new habit. I am that statistic and running joke. I'm ok with that. At least I realize there are imrovements I can make.

However, this year I'm trying to fight the urge to make a list. As I write this, I already have things popping in my head. Spinning three times a week. Write 15 minutes a day. Stop playing with your hair. It's a sickness really, I'm always talking about what to do and I never do it. Even my husband even notes my obsessive Pinning habit and lack of finished projects.

So this year I'm going to focus not on making resolutions or plans, but to focuse on 10 minutes. Not planning months or years, but taking responsibility for make the healthiest, wisest, kindest, Godliest decisions in the next ten minutes. I can control the next couple weeks as much as I can control the weather, but I can control the decisions I make right now.

So with that thought, I will go eat more sugar cookies. January 1 is right around the corner after all....

Broke

When I was in third grade, my best friend was kidnapped, stabbed twice, and left to die in the woods. I remember my small eight year old mind sitting in the bathroom stale at school replying the words the teaching said over and over in my head. "They don't know where she is, but don't assume the worst." It was that moment that I realized something could be terribly wrong and I may never see my best friend again.

The events in Newton take me back to that time in my life. The wondering, the pain, the questions. It's something that stays with you your entire life, no matter how old you are when it happens. Even up to my wedding day, I thought about the time on the play ground where her and I talked about our weddings in a little girl way. No talk about boys, rather more about the pretty dresses and promising each other that we would be each others bridesmaids. My wedding day has come and gone, and I thought about my friend many times through that day, saddened by the thought she never got to experience love or have her first kiss. 

When you go through loosing a good friend at a young age, every exciting milestone is marked with sadness and almost guilt, knowing they never had the same privilege. Even at 8 I remember thinking I should have asked her to spend the night that evening and maybe it would have been someone else. Not that it would have been better, but in my young selfish mind, I would still have my friend.

So when I heard the news about Sandy Hook in Newtown, Connecticut, my heart broke and broke and broke. I cried and got a headache from crying. I can't do anything but relate it to my frame of reference and realize the young lives that will forever have scars. They will go through life thinking of not one friend, but of multiple friends and even how a teacher died so that they could live. I pray with all my heart those tiny children and families find peace and comfort in Jesus as I did, because that's the only way to deal with the pain. 

There may be commotion around the politics, motives, policies, and so many other frivolous things. In my mind there is one thing that hurts the most, and it's that a little girl lost her best friend and was there to witness the entire event. My heart breaks, because in no fathomable hell should any child have to learn to cope with that. 

My prayer is that these children learn to heal and rely on God, because there is no other answer. 

How do I do it? Not alone.

I can say pretty much ever year of my adult life I have thought, "wow, how could I ever top that year?!" Don't get me wrong, I've had many difficult times in my life, but somehow God always showed up and reminded me that I wasn't doing it alone. So for the first time, at least in a while, I can look back and say, "man, that year was ROUGH."

End of 2011 husband got a new job at a long haul company, he's always been regional. I got a fantastic promotion I had been working for for about two - three years. An exciting time, and stressful. As husband adjusted, I tried to adjust. And we will both admit it was hard. I had people watching my every step, waiting for me to fail. And he was only home about 8 days a month.

The people I thought would be there to support, encouraging, and pray for me ... weren't. People that I would have said a year ago will be around no matter what ... weren't.

But God knew when I needed it. He never let me get past my breaking point. Right when I was about to crumble, others showed up. Right when I was at the end and didn't know what to do, I would get a text, call, or even a letter in the mail! There were many instances that those simple messages would bring tears to my eyes because I just needed a reminder of who I was in Christ. These God connections were there to let me vent, yell, and sometimes cry. Yes. I will admit. There have been tears this year.

I was sitting at work this week and just laid my head on my desk with tears in my eyes. I was an absolute emotional mess, to the point that I couldn't concentrate enough to get work done. After a few hours of this trying to focus with no success, I grabbed my notebook and wrote, "It's ok. I'm having a weak day, but that just means He gets to be strong. And there is beauty in that."

So maybe I should take back my opening. Perhaps this hasn't been such a difficult year. I prayed to God to protect me from my enemies ... so I lost friends. I asked God to make me strong enough to handle this situation ... and He made me weak so His Spirit was strong in me.