Barking Mad

It's Just a Boob...Stop Acting Like One!

 

Gaby nursing, April 2006

I want to preface this by saying that I hope I don't end up alienating anyone who reads this, or who has read Barking Mad for a while now.  I don't want to offend anyone or come across as being judgmental and end up making you feel like your parenting choices were wrong and somehow less beneficial for your child.  I really try not to have a superiority complex when it comes to breastfeeding. 

That being said, I've been called many things when it comes to my views on breastfeeding - most recently, a "lactivist."  I've always said, if the shoe fit, I'd wear it.  In large, I think it's a pretty good fit, although I'm well past the point on my own journey through motherhood, where I'm actively lactating...nope, I was forced to stop that nearly two years ago when Gaby was 2 1/2.  Yes, she was two and a half YEARS OLD.  I was more than happy to go until she was three and then slowly wean her.  However, my battle with depression dictated a change in medication; one that was not compatible with nursing, and I was forced to wean her.  It was rough on both of us and made even more difficult by the fact that I felt I was failing her because I couldn't deal with the part of myself that was broken inside and needed stronger drugs in order to deal with the suffocating sadness and suicidal thoughts I was having. 

We've all heard the idiom, "Breast is BEST!" or maybe you've even seen blinkies and graphics like these  on the blogs of breastfeeding moms or breastfeeding advocacy sites...

 

 

Yes, I wholeheartedly agree with the sentiments above.  Human milk is for human babies.  It's the way we were designed.  George Washington's mother did not set him to suckle at the teat of Jersey cow!  She either nursed him herself, or if she was unable, had a wet-nurse feed baby George.  It wasn't even until the mid (1)1860's that formulas using cow-milk were created and given to babies who were unable to nurse.

I haven't always been so zealous when it comes to breastfeeding and that was completely due to a total lack of education about the benefits for both mother and child.  When my first child, Joshua, was born, it was a very traumatic experience.  I was a teenager and no one stressed the importance of breastfeeding to me, beforehand.  After more than 50 hours in labor culminating in me almost having a stroke, I was rushed in for an emergency c-section.  The doctors and nurses that cared for me, postpartum, told me - "Oh you won't want to nurse, take it from me.  It's best to just bind yourself real tight and take this little pill and your milk will dry right up!"  I believed them and Joshua was started on formula immediately.   He was a healthy baby and toddler, right up to the end.

Then when my twins came into the world, a little over 18 months later, and born more than seven weeks premature, I was given minimal education on breastfeeding. A lactation consultant came to visit me during my prenatal hospitalization for pre-eclampsia and said that I should really consider at least pumping breast milk for the babies because they were liable to be preemies and they'd need all of the extra protection my colostrum (first-milk) and breast milk could provide.  I was even sent home with a really nice electric pump after they were born.  For a while I did pump.  I even tried to physically breastfeed them but it was hard.  It was really hard! I became frustrated.  This was compounded by the fact that the hospital sent us home with, no joke, a nearly six-month supply of formula. 

While I had a lactation consultant telling me that breast was best, the hospital had a contract with a certain formula manufacturer and the postpartum staff would let them know when a mother of multiples gave birth and I was automatically hooked up with the formula.  One of my postpartum nurses even told me that I wouldn't want to breastfeed and that formula would be so much easier, less work and not nearly as stressful as trying to maintain my milk supply for two babies.  She gave me tons of formula samples and pamphlets that the hospital had been provided by various formula and baby food manufacturers.  Talk about giving new mothers a mixed message.  I was set up for failure from the start!

It got to the point where the frustration of trying to nurse two babies at once was overwhelmed by the availability of all that formula.  I was overwhelmed with having a toddler and two newborns at home and took the road of least resistance.  At least the twins got my colostrum and nearly two months of expressed breast milk.

With my fourth child (third pregnancy), it was night and day.  There was a span of three years between Matt and Meg's birth and Zack's arrival.  In that span of time Josh died, we moved to WA state and I started to read more about pregnancy and childbirth.  Our family was flat broke.  I was not prepared for another child and the thought of having to pay thousands of dollars for baby formula made my stomach churn.  I also read a lot about the nutritional benefits of breast milk  and went to the library and checked out books filled with studies and statistics.  My OBGYN's office had a full time lactation consultant who spoke with every mother right around the 20-week mark and she gave me even more information about breastfeeding. I'd come to the conclusion that this was what I wanted to do for this new baby.  From the moment he was born it was a relatively simple process. 

Because I'm fairly self-conscious, the only issues I had when breastfeeding Zack was the proximity of other people when it came time to feed him.  Eventually I learned creative ways to cover myself up and I grew less concerned with what other people thought.  When Zack turned 1, he completely self-weaned.  Just like that!  He never had a bottle, or formula, but something just clicked and he was done.

Fast forward 13 years and I find myself with a small miracle...Gareth and I were married in 2003 and despite being told that my chances of ever conceiving again were slim to none, yet on Father's Day of June 2005, I took a home pregnancy test and sure enough, it confirmed my suspicions.  Gareth was going to be a daddy for the first time!

 

This time around I was bound and determined to become as educated about pregnancy and childbirth as I could!  I knew this was going to be my last child and there was no excuse for me to not do everything I could so assure a healthy pregnancy and birth - despite the fact that I already knew due to my age, weight, and the fact that I'd already had three previous c-sections, I was an automatic candidate for a repeat c-section. I joined forums and message boards, read every single book I could get my hands on (I still have quite the library...if anyone is interested in a pregnancy book, by all means, let me know and it's yours!), and started speaking to lactation consultants early in my pregnancy.

I never could have foreseen the hell I'd go through after Gaby was born prematurely and nearly died, trying to give my child breast milk and only breast milk...even after she was clearly out of danger.  I was getting constant mixed messages from both the NICU staff and then the nursing staff in the step-down ward once Gaby was off of all support machines and only had a gavage tube. 

I was constantly told by nursing staff that because she'd been in the NICU she'd have a horrible time trying to latch on and unless I wanted to spend her first six months pumping, it would be better to just go ahead and start bottle feeding her with what I'd pumped, (and OMG did I pump during those first weeks she was in the NICU...so much so that they asked me to stop bringing in so much milk for her because there was no room in the NICU freezer and fridge for other mothers to store their breast milk), and then make the switch to formula which was "just as good!"  I went ballistic and phoned a couple of friends I'd gotten to know via pregnancy and childbirth boards, who talked me off the ledge and kept me focused on following what Gaby's own doctor told me to try and do...let Gaby get good and hungry and despite the gavage tube, let her learn how to latch on and let her nurse for a good solid twenty minutes.

Despite Gaby's very own doctor notating this in her chart, the nurses would be damned if I was going to rearrange their predetermined schedule.  They had a "plethora of formula available" they'd tell me,  to which I replied that "I have breasts with warm milk on tap!"  They told me she'd "never learn to latch on" or would have "nipple confusion", to which I snapped back, "Watch and see, she will latch on and the only nipple I'm going to give her, is MINE!" 

These are health professionals who are educated and know better? 

I could more than understand this attitude if I showed some hesitancy to breastfeed, or if Gaby had been in the NICU longer than she was, or if I had supply problems or there were other health issues.  None of those were a factor and herein lies the problem.   There is no advantage to hospitals to truly educate women on what's in the best interest of their child if they are capable and willing to give breastfeeding a try.  There is no benefit to them to advocate for breastfeeding.  I'm sure the kickbacks they receive from formula manufacturers don't hurt either. 

If you tried breastfeeding and it didn't work - you had issues, or supply problems or illness intervened, I can understand that and I would back you to the hilt to formula feed your child. You do what is right for you and your child, period.  

What I absolutely do not and never will understand is the woman who just refuses to try, or thinks it's gross or whose husband would be upset if she breastfed...and that right there is mostly due to our society and the sexualization of breasts and the genuine lack of education our health care providers should always be tasked with giving women who are preparing to give birth.

When I posted the first part of this mini-rant (well OK, it's taken on Biblical proportions at this point), it was spurned after a series of very heated and emotional debates in the blogosphere about breastfeeding in general, breastfeeding in public and extended breastfeeding...all things which I am passionate about.  I have a hard time swallowing some of the ignorance shown by people on the topic. 

I'm not going to sit here and tell you that formula is poison, or that it should be available by perscription only.  However, based on the results of the polls I posted in the first part of my rant, I'd genuinely like to know why or how those of you who answered that six months was long enough to breastfeed, came to that conclusion?  Or even a year?  Or why do you have anything against extended breastfeeding (I'm not talking about the rare woman who has been documented breastfeeding her kids until they were 8 or 9 years of age, but more along the lines of breastfeeding until 3 or 4 years of age.), and why you feel that if a baby can ask for it, she's old enough to stop breastfeeding?

 

   

 

When Gaby was about 18 months old, I posted this video (and people had very passionate feelings about this...especially because she could ASK for it!  Seems to be a huge no-no. If your kid can ask for it, then it's time to cut them off!) of her asking for "mommy milk." 

As you can clearly see in the video, she was drinking out of a sippy cup, yet still breastfeeding.  She did have some very serious eating issues.  At around 11 months old she stopped gaining weight and just stopped eating.  At the time, before her issues surfaced, she would try anything and everything.  Salmon being her favorite.  She went from eating just about anything we put in front of her, to perhaps two things aside from breast milk. 

After seeing several specialists, it was decided that I should keep right on nursing her to supplement what she wasn't getting...that's the beautiful thing about breast milk - it tailors itself to your child's needs.  Even if Gaby hadn't developed serious food related problems (we discovered later that it was a combination of her first illness, at 11 months old, and severe tactile and sensory issues that led to her not wanting to eat...she still has a couple of problems with food to this day, mostly tactile, like her mother.),I would have still continued to nurse her until we felt it was time to wean. I had the full support of her pediatrician and my own doctor.  This was in the face of the dirty looks I'd get when I'd have to nurse in public.  "OMG!!!! It's a boob! Put it away before the morals of society totally collapse" their expressions would say. 

 

Gaby, February 2006,nursing at home.

Believe me, I'd never NIP (Nurse in Public) without a generous hooter-hider!  I'm far too self-conscious to just whip it out in public! 

 

Nursing Gaby on Pine Point Beach, ME, July 2006

I will never understand what the big deal is, about a woman nursing her child, in public?  I'm insulted and infuriated at every single time I was asked to take her to the restroom, or to my car, to feed her.  LIKE HELL!   Just because, for some bizarre reason, you're made uncomfortable by the sight of a mother feeding her child, don't ask me to do anything other than what I'm doing.  Don't ask any woman to take her child into a restroom and feed it!  That's beyond disgusting.

Worse than the looks a mother gets while breastfeeding an infant, are the looks of utter outrage a mother gets when she is nursing a child who is obviously no longer an infant and might very well be a toddler.  Again, why?  What about this offends you?  In this day and age it's easy for anyone to Google the benefits of extended breastfeeding.  Americans are seemingly the only ones who are completely skeeved out by this.  I don't understand it.  Breastfeeding for as long as the mother and child are comfortable with it and are healthy, should be the only things that matter, yet they aren't and that saddens me.

All of this combined with the gross sexualization of female breasts as being portrayed as nothing more than playthings for intimate partners, the lack of education, and the obvious conflict of interests our hospitals, birthing centers and medical providers have (thanks in no small part to formula companies), all play a huge part in this topic being the emotionally heated mine-field that it is...and that's unfortunate because in the end, it's our children that end up paying for it.

At the end of the day it shouldn't be what society and media dictates, about how you parent your children, and especially how you feed them, influence how you do what is best for your child and family. The only person's opinion that matters is your own. 

While I will never back down from believing that breast feeding is the absolute best way you can nourish your child; I will support your right to decide for yourself what works best for you and your child, if you've come to the conclusion that breastfeeding is just not working, for whatever reason.  I just hope that the reason you came to that place...the place where you absolutely can not do it, is not a result of how an insecure society has made you feel. 

 
(1) Infant formula; evaluating the safety of new ingredients.

A Piece of My Heart Flies Away Tomorrow

What a way to celebrate Mother's Day...watching Meg leave for the UK, knowing I won't see her for at least a year, possibly longer.  I don't let my mind go to the other possibilities...the ones where I know she'll be going to Iraq not too long after getting settled into her base in the UK.  No, I won't think about that. 

I know I said I was going to post the rest of my breastfeeding but this week is the last I will have had to spend with my eldest daughter for a long time and I just couldn't bring myself to finish writing it when my heart wasn't really in it.

Instead, I've been absorbing every moment of having this brave, strong woman at home with me.  She's so different from the girl I watched pack an overnight bag as she prepared to leave for boot camp back in November.  Her little girl edges have now been honed into strong, defined womanly lines...a woman who knows how to use a weapon in defense of her country and her fellow man.  A woman who spent weeks crawling through the 90F+ sand in the Texas flatlands in order to learn how to ambush the enemy and take down combatant strongholds and grew the kind of backbone some grown men will never have! 

There are tattoos where there was once smooth olive skin...but there is also a mettle to her spirit which makes her stand taller and stronger.   There are now the bright orange embers of cigarettes that rest between her lips instead of school-girl lollypop flavored lipgloss...but there are also oaths of loyalty and commitment that flow with a confident sense of capability.   This child, who grew from but the tiniest seed in my womb, now - some twenty years later, stands proud, determined, and courageous and ready to embrace the adventures that await her and do whatever may be asked of her.

My brain knows all this yet my heart feels the keen pain of a mother about to set one of her own, free...really and truly free, at last.  Yet, as I write the words, and then look over them, it just feels like a tangled up jumble coming out of my head and I don't feel adequately equipped to articulate the cyclone of emotions, thoughts and memories going through my head right now.

I'm so excited for Meg, yet I grieve for the past that we never fully experienced because I wasn't there for 8 years, and I think that my regret over the errors and mistakes I've made, keeps me from genuinely being able to completely let go.  But then, when do mothers ever really let go? 

Despite my inner emotional tug-o-war, I'm coveting every moment of having her close to me, and laughing like a fool at the antics of she and her friends who have come all the way from Maine, Massachusetts and western New York to spend these last stateside days of hers, with both Meg and her family. 

More than all of that, I want her to soak up this time of acting silly, staying up all night, cramming four bodies onto one small air mattress, eating too much junk, and laughing...especially the laughter. There will be time for the business of being an adult, in the days, weeks and months to come.  Right now  I want her to cram as many of these crazy-fun moments in and to hold them close and revel in the light of these times and then be able to call upon them during times when the darkness and harsh edges of the world surround her. 

 

   

 

I want her to...

...remember sitting on the shore with her mom in Maine and just inhaling the salty breeze off of the Atlantic.

...smile when she thinks of Gaby running into to her bedroom with Bunny Bunny Bunny and jumping into bed with her.

 

...laugh when she thinks about having her best friends here at the house and squished around her as they watched Paranormal Activity.

 

...giggle when she remembers wading out into the lake and being splashed by Linda.

 

...feel great about herself when she thinks about how incredibly proud I am of her and how much I love her. 

 

...know how amazing I think she is and how I don't think I could ever ask of myself, the things she is asking of herself and the things her country may eventually ask of her.

My mommy-heart is both bursting with pride and stinging with the pains of letting go.  Only  a mother could experience this sort of painfully happy conundrum. 

 

It's Just a Boob! Part I - The Polls

 

"Nursing does not diminish the beauty of a woman's breasts; it enhances their charm by making them look lived in and happy."  ~Robert A. Heinlein

I'm not trying to stir anything up (hence the reason I refuse to link to any of the blow-ups that have taken place in Bloggywood recently.)...I know that the topics of breastfeeding, breastfeeding in public, and extended nursing are red hot and tend to get people pretty vocal and defensive!   The thing is, I really want to know what you think about this topic and more importantly, why?

For those of you that have been reading me for a while, you already know that I am very zealous about breastfeeding.  I'm not sure if you could call me a "lactivist" but hey, if the shoe fits, I'll wear it.  So, before I launch into my tirade, I thought I'd just test the waters to see what the general consensus among my few readers is, about the topic.  I've embedded a couple of polls in this post to get an idea of what you guys think.  Next Wednesday I'll post Part II, It's Just a Boob...Stop Acting Like One!

If you want to leave a comment (Come on!  You already know I'm a total comment whore!), feel free to leave statistics or links to studies that support your opinion.  I try to reply to comments as much as I can and really wish TypePad had an option that made replying to individual comments with the comments themselves, easier.  I really enjoy my posts where there is a lot of community discussion!  Anyhow, feel free to extrapolate and go back and forth...as always though, try not to flame your fellow commenters.  In other words, play nice kiddies!

"Breast Feeding should not be attempted by fathers with hairy chests, since they can make the baby sneeze and give it wind."  ~Mike Harding, The Armchair Anarchist's Almanac, 1981

New Adventures Loom on the Horizon

  

I haven't even so much as made a peep out here, when it comes to our plans for Easter weekend.  Actually, I only just realized that this weekend was in fact, Easter weekend.  I've been incredibly wrapped up in the application process for The Biggest Loser and preparing Gaby for what's going on this weekend.

Gareth and I have sort of avoided talking about it (outside of our family), except for casual mentions on Facebook mostly because if nothing comes of all this, it's not a big deal and if something comes of all this, it's a really monumental deal...and lastly because this is Gaby's life and whilst she's only 4, depending on what may or may not happen this weekend, that may end up being more important than ever. 

Gaby is the entire focus of this weekend.  All eyes will be on her.  Literally.  Depending on what certain people see and hear, her life (and ours as a family) could literally change overnight.  She's been presented with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and after discussing it for a long time, and talking with people I know personally that are familiar with the road Gaby may begin traveling down, we decided to at least let her have a shot.  

This is not the first time we've been approached about Gaby...I'm trying to figure out a way to say this without sounding vain and no matter what I say, it's going to anyhow so I'll just say it...we get countless offers from legitimate individuals wanting Gaby to model for them or appear in commercials and until recently, we haven't considered it...at all.  It wasn't until Gaby herself watched something on TV about modeling and acting and asked if she could be on TV.  We assumed the interest would go away like so many other obsessions kids have at this age.  It hasn't.  It's been going strong for more than a year now.

We've didn't want to get her hopes up, or force her into something she isn't suited for. However, at this point,  and in the opinion of professionals who are in a position to determine whether my baby (I know she isn't literally a baby, but in my eyes, as she's my last, she will always be my "baby".) is suited for modeling or acting; she's more than well-suited.  Her personality, looks, her ability to read, and the fact that she can memorize complete sections of dialogue...it all suggests that she might be well suited for either print work, or work in television or film.

Who knows though...kids can change in a heartbeat and given how rapidly she's growing and absorbing new things around her, we may discover, after she gets a chance to do this, that she doesn't like it.  And you know what?  That's OK.  She has her entire life ahead of her and we'll encourage her to do whatever it is that makes her the happiest.  

Of course I worry, given all the recent media coverage of adults who were child actors, dying or committing suicide, and I certainly don't want to end up with a Lindsay Lohan on my hands 15 years from now.  I want Gaby to have a normal childhood, filled with fun and the promise of adventures over every new horizon. 

In light of that, Gareth and I still aren't decided on how much of this new adventure we're going to share. Sometimes I think it might be fun to chronicle what it's like having a child who models or acts but a couple of things stop me.  I don't want to ever be accused of exploiting my child for blog clicks.  I'm not entirely sure I'm savvy enough to balance the entire 'public-blog-with-a-kid-whose-life-I-want-to-keep-private-despite-it-taking-a-very-exciting-turn' thing.  Does that make sense?  I'm not putting the cart before the horse and automatically assuming my kid is going to be famous, but Gareth and I would be negligent if we didn't give heavy consideration to the fact that this is, after all, Gaby's life and if something does come of all this, we need to always keep that in the forefront when it comes to sharing our lives - especially hers, with the entire world. 

I already put enough of my own life out there - sometimes in a very painfully and poignant manner; a chronicle of my battles with my inner demons and hopefully my ultimate survival of this hellacious war, which is something I would want my children to celebrate rather than be ashamed of, and so far, I think I've done a pretty good job of that.  When Gaby gets older, she will want to tell her own story, in her voice and as remembered, seen through her own eyes. 

So here I sit, trying to balance what to share and what to keep to myself yet really excited because the smallest gem in my crown of jewels may get a chance to shine very very brightly.   I'm so blessed to be her mom and hopefully I'm up to the task (let's be honest, I've not had a real great track record when it comes to my other kids, in the "being there and being a good parent" column!), of helping guide her through this adventure, so that as she grows up, she becomes a happy, healthy and whole adult who knows that she's loved and valued and so very cherished.

The other part of this which is so hard for me, personally, to deal with, is that I know if Gaby begins modeling or acting there will be a tremendous amount of focus put on her looks and pressure for her to always be perfect.   I am not a role model when it comes to this sort of thing and I worry that my own issues surrounding body image and the problems I have had with my weight and trying to control my weight, might make me ineffective as a mentor to her and as someone who needs to impart to her that first and foremost, she's healthy, has great self-esteem and normal expectations of herself and her body.   Image is everything in that industry.  Hell, it was everything when I was involved in radio, as a DJ and voice-over artist!  It's one reason I got out!  I knew I wasn't going to be picked for very lucrative personal appearances, despite pulling awesome Arbitron ratings in my time slot, because I was/am fat.  My own issues with self-image is one of the things that really makes me wonder if we're doing the right thing with Gaby...letting her get into an industry that revolves around the obsession of self-image and the illusion of being perfect (HELLO Heidi Montag!), when she has a mother who has a very poor self-image and low self-esteem.

At the end of the day, as my own therapist told me, I'm either going to let my own issues get in the way of at least giving her a shot at a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, or I'm going to let Gaby have a chance to see if this is something she'd really like to do, and support her fully, regardless of whatever happens. 

I'm not saying I won't share any of the roller coaster ride with you...I just don't know how much is appropriate, because honestly, the person taking the ride is probably going to be the best at telling you all about what an adventure it is!

2010 is shaping up to be a very exciting year!

 

Stop Sweating the Small Stuff!

I can't even begin to count the number of times over the last couple of months I've made mountains out of what are really little more than the smallest of molehills.  At times, I think I do this to avoid the bigger picture, other times I think it's just a knee jerk reaction because it's the way I've always done things.

So, when I clicked on a this recent picture on Meaghan's Facebook profile, I very nearly had a heartastroke!

 

Meaghan told me a while back that she was going to be getting a tattoo once it was permissible (there is some sort of rule in the USAF about when you can get them, where they can be; that sort of thing) but that it would be small and in an inconspicuous place.  She knows that I'm not really fond of them.  This goes back to her dad (my first ex-husband) and the fact that when our marriage was at the tail end he started getting lots of tattoos.  LOTS OF THEM.  They weren't artistic, or pretty...just tasteless, tacky and trashy.  I've had a thing against tattoos ever since.

Don't get me wrong...there are a lot of people in my life that I love dearly who have not just one tattoo, but many.  I might not like the tattoos, but it doesn't change the way I feel about the person underneath the ink.  I do think there are some really artistic and brilliant tattoos out there.  My ex-husband's aren't among those.  

When I saw the picture of Meaghan's tattoo the first thing that flashed through my mind (immediately after I saw the EMT's trying to resuscitate me after a cardiac arrest...I apparently didn't get to the baby aspirin fast enough!), were my former husband's tattoos.  And then I "accidentally" found out (through yet another Facebook photo that someone else had posted of my daughter), that there was another tattoo gracing Meaghan's body. 

 

I immediately sent Gareth out to the drug store for more baby aspirin and sent Meg a text message pretty much saying, "WTF?!?!?!?!"  Meaghan responded with, "Oh yeah, I was going to tell you about the other one..." I shot back, as fast as my thumbs could move across my cell phone, "When?!?!?  When Gareth is spooning applesauce into my mouth and wiping my ass because a massive stroke has left me unable to do either of those things myself?!?!!" 

The tattoos weren't exactly small, or in inconspicuous places.  Meaghan phoned me and we talked about the tattoos and I felt marginally better once she told me that she had gotten ripped a new one by her Commanding Officer (and was eventually told, because the tattoos were both religious and meaningful, that she was good to go.), and she mentioned that the tattoos were important to her.  I figured if she had already gotten reprimanded by her CO, she didn't need another one from me...but I did manage to throw in a few, "Are you intentionally trying to kill me?", "Do you know what this does to your poor mother!", "You're going to regret this when you're old and wrinkled and no one can make out just what the hell they say!"  I had to make sure I got a few of those choice momisms in or I could easily be accused of slacking on the job.

I took a few deep breaths...in and out, in and out.  Then I started looking through a bunch of photos I have on Facebook of Meaghan.   She is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful creatures on the face of the earth.  I'm her mom, I can say that.  I also happen to think it's true.  I just hated the fact that she got the tattoos and that they were huge!  I was scanning through photos like this one...

 

and this one, her Senior Portrait that I took,

 

...and then this one, taken the same day I took her and Katie's Senior Portraits. This reminded me of what a free spirit my daughter is...

 

And then I came across this photo...

 

If that one wasn't enough to stop me in my tracks, I saw this one that she took for me so I could see what she looked like in her Air Force ABU's...

 

I couldn't help but giggle when I passed this one, of Meaghan and her USAF Tech School BFF, Justine, in their "BCG's"...Birth Control Glasses!

 

The photos of Meaghan in her Air Force blues and then in her ABU's was a shocking reminder of how much of an adult she really is and that as an adult, she's going to make choices I don't agree with, but in the bigger picture, those choices don't diminish the amazing person that she is.  She graduated BMT (boot camp) in the top of her flight, she busted her ass, and continues to do so every single day, for those she loves and a country she takes great pride in! 

Two tattoos do not negate the amazing woman that she is or the extremely hard job that she strives to excel at every single day.  And honestly, it doesn't make her any less beautiful in my eyes.  I take tremendous pride that Meaghan is my daughter and that she's out there busting her ass for her country.

Besides, don't you wish every soldier could look as good as Meaghan and Justine do in their ABU's and then pull this off during their down time?

 

These young women get up insanely early every day, put on more than 25lbs of "battle rattle", roll around in the hot dirt and sand, know how to use a machine gun, grenade launcher, and defend themselves and their brothers and sisters in arms, all while getting hardly any sleep, taking classes to help prepare them to better do their jobs, and ready themselves to leave everything they grew up with to head to bases thousand miles away in foreign and sometimes hostile lands.

After a lot of thought and introspection, I've come to the conclusion that I'm the one who needs to grow up and stop making such a mountain out of what is really just a  very small molehill on the landscape that is this life.

Oh sure, I'm grateful too, it could have been so much worse.  Meaghan could have ended up with something like this...