It happened suddenly. I’ve been warned that parenthood is like that, but sometimes it still catches me off guard. You see your children every day. Change happens so gradually it’s hard to detect.
Infrequent visits don’t change the fact that they are a special part of our story.”
Amy Allender photo
Then suddenly, you see what’s going on. They are growing.
Suddenly, they’re huge.
That’s how it was for me recently. My firstborn son, who is now a whopping six years old, was sitting on the couch reading. Something changed last week. He went from picking at words, slowly sounding them out, to achieving significant fluency literally overnight. Something clicked, and just like that, I’ve got a kid who can read.
I looked at him; so grown up. Both pride and pain mingled in my heart. Out of nowhere, I thought, “I wish our South Dakota friends could know him now.”
Just before we returned to Minot for a second assignment, my husband was stationed at Ellsworth, AFB in Rapid City, SD. While there, we were welcomed into one of the dearest groups of friends I’ve ever known. For the most part they were locals, but without missing a beat they drew us in and treated us as if we’d been there all along. The group was comprised of multiple families and lots of kids. Our weekends were filled with birthday parties, potlucks, and baby showers.
These were the friends who first knew I was expecting a child. They were there through the morning sickness and came to the hospital when he was born. The seasoned moms coached me through the witching hour, sleepless nights, and my first days of solo parenting when my husband went TDY.
We moved back to Minot when he was 16 months old. Although we were happy to come back to Minot, I really thought our forever home would be there, in Rapid City. With those people. In that community.
Military life is a funny thing. I have been blessed by many wonderful friends. But none truly know all of me.
Among them, there are those who knew me as a newlywed, some who saw me chase a career, and others who stood by me during my first deployment. Some were there as I experienced my first deployment, others were there when my body and mind broke down. Still others witnessed my entry to motherhood, and others know me today. Yet, surprisingly few have met my children or know them well.
On the flip side, I’m in the same position. Regarding the children of my friends, I wish I knew them better. I wish they could come over after school, that I never missed a birthday, or even that I just knew their favorite TV show. Wouldn’t that be a dream? Imagine the joy of raising our children alongside the people we cherish most. Others may take that for granted, but I never will.
This is military life. Hard. Sweet. Painful. Joyful. Abundantly blessed. Abundantly complicated.
April is the month of the military child. It takes a village to raise a child—and for the military child that village can seem invisible, shifting. But just because something isn’t seen, doesn’t mean it’s not there. I want to take a moment to salute those who are part of the often invisible village of the military child.
To the civilian friends who have no first-hand experience with this military living: thank you. You’ll never fully grasp how special it is when you make room in your circles for a military family. When you treat us like we’ve been here all along, we notice. When you open your hearts to us—even though we may only be a short-term fixture in your lives—we’re grateful. You impact us in ways you may never know.
To all the military families whose lives intersect and intertwine through training, TDY, and PCS: thank you. Thank you for navigating this lifestyle alongside us. Saying goodbye always hurts but, having shared even a brief time together is better than never having met at all.
And to all the friends who knew me before I was the parent of a military child: thank you. Being young with you was a privilege not lost on me. I wish my kids knew you; I wish I knew your kids. Though that may not happen in the ways I idealize, please know that my kids are growing up knowing your name. They know you, and the part you played in our lives, and how much you mean to us.
Thank you to everyone for all the roles you’ve played in the life of a military child. I simply adore the two mil-kids living in my house, and I know you would, too.
For more on Minot living, and finding a positive perspective, join me online at AmyAllender.com, Instagram (@amy_allender or @HeyMinot) or Facebook (@amyallenderblog).
