Sometimes, I’m glad my sons are young during the height of Ryan’s military career.

I tell myself that they won’t remember my panicked calls to my mother begging her to fly across the country to help me. They won’t remember how I stay up when Ryan has a night flight because I’m too scared of waking up without him beside me. They won’t know the hours of screen time they got because I was too sad or tired to be productive. They won’t realize that saying goodbye to friends, teachers, and a “home” every 2-4 years isn’t considered normal. They won’t realize that having no family closer than an 10 hour drive isn’t by choice but is a product of our military life.

My hope is that every hug they give their dad is deeply felt because they don’t know if this is just a regular work day or deployment again. I hope when they make a friend, they cherish those relationships and are fully present because without warning we may be moving. I hope they feel safe and free to express their emotions of all the uncertainties of this life. I hope they can comprehend the beauty of life and respect but not fear death.

Raising military children isn’t something I thought about until I got pregnant with my first. That’s when I started realizing the parts of childhood he’d be missing. To me, a normal childhood was kids living in the same house for at least 15 years, your friends are the same from kindergarten, and you attend one church until college. That isn’t possible for my kids and I’m starting to be okay with that fact.

I want to remember the hard days for them so that I can teach them about their built in resilience. This life has given them strength to rise to the occasion. This life teaches them to savor every goodbye. I already see it with their relationship with Ryan. When he’s around they are ALL IN. They want so much of him, which thankfully he gives without hesitation no matter his fatigue. Nolan has a confidence when he walks into a room and sees kids to befriend. I pray he stays bold. I see a similar fearlessness in Austin. My boys have never met a stranger; they’re so charismatic and kind.

Their military childhood isn’t a hindrance; it’s their super power.

Share stories of the #mightymilitarykids in your life using the hashtag on your social media. I can’t wait to celebrate them with you!

*Photos by Kerry L Photography