Shop the fall collection ➔

It’s been nearly eight weeks since I left my husband to move to the Midwest in pursuit of an aviation career. It’s bad enough that I’m nothing more than pond scum clinging to the bottom rung of the proverbial ladder, but being 600 miles from my family sans interstate makes it all much worse. Nevertheless, I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to even be on that ladder so I’m going to make the most of it. If all goes as planned we will spend the next three summers in the predicament and possibly more.

It has been a very difficult eight weeks and I’ve learned a few lessons on how to make it work better.

First, the Internet is a gift from God and should not be forsaken. I have infinite admiration for military wives that are apart from their husbands months to more than a year at a time. I cannot fathom a time when letters was all their was besides expensive phone calls.

I was unable to get an internet connection for the first three weeks. Sure, we could have called each other but in our very busy lives, stopping everything for a chat was not very feasible, so we just let it go. Very bad idea. All we talked was business on the rare occasion we talked at all. I felt the extreme alienation and my husband became some cold business partner off in another state. When he came to visit at the 4 week mark it was legitimately awkward. Who is this guy and why is he trying to kiss me? Just being married is not a connection in and of itself. We have to take the time to connect as a couple because absence can make the heart grow fonder or it could make the fire go stone cold.

Second, visits matter. Being the lowest on the totem pole I’m not making any demands this year, but next year seeing my husband as often as possible will be a priority. We are a full 10 hour drive apart so it’s no small thing to get together, but it will be of top priority. Meeting in the middle on weekends for camping trips will be planned as often as possible in addition to visits home. We used to be apart for two months at a time when my husband was still in Grad school in Texas. That was while we were engaged. It felt like torture because that point our hearts were all aflutter. Now, our lives are so entwined that while I maintain my capability to be independent, it feels like part of my being is missing.

Lastly (so far), now, more than ever, we must support each other in our ambitions. My husband signed for at least a few more years of holding a side job as a freelancer. He doesn’t really have nights and weekends off. I’m a monkey at a three-ring circus working 12 hour days after three years of not working full time. I am going through a huge adjustment. I’m no longer home to handle business so my husband is responsible for everything. Because I can’t micromanage anymore and see to it that everything is handled my way I get very frustrated when I feel my husband under-performs. This doesn’t make him feel like much of a man. I’m off working in a surprisingly difficult work situation away from my queendom, out of my element and away from my whole world (my family). I need my husbands support and encouragement constantly.

Being a woman and away from home is so much less common than a man going away for work. I am a serious nester and I have always been comfortable holding down the fort. I knew it would be very different being away from my home and family, but at times it feels like I’ve been banished from my real life. For now, this is my real life, and since I have every intention of remaining married to Mr. Jones, we have to work extra hard to connect and be supportive.

Adrienne Jones

Adrienne Jones is a clueless newlywed trying to navigate adulthood. While she has been "playing" grownup for more than a decade,she realizes she really doesn't know much of anything about anything especially men. She is a hopeless dog-lover with two beautiful rescues called Maverick and Goose. As it turns out, they are hopelessly devoted to their daddy, and with good cause because he spoils them rotten. As a family hobby the Jones' open their home to foster various dogs waiting for a new start. Conveniently located in the west, the family lives for adventure and basks in the glory of all that God created through hiking and camping. Professionally Adrienne feels like a bonified member of the Island of Misfits. She has a degree in Emergency Management and is a licensed helicopter pilot. Over-educated and unemployed, she is living the American dream. http://www.idrathereatacookie.com

I Thought Our Friendship Would Be Unbreakable

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Two friends selfie

The message notification pinged on my phone. A woman, once one of my best friends, was reaching out to me via Facebook. Her message simply read, “Wanted to catch up and see how life was treating you!”  I had very conflicting feelings. It seemed with that one single message, a flood of memories surfaced. Some held some great moments and laughter. Other memories held disappointment and hurt of a friendship that simply had run its course. Out of morbid curiosity, I clicked on her profile page to see how the years had been treating her. She was divorced and still...

Keep Reading

The First 10 Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking

In: Journal, Marriage, Relationships
The First Ten Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking www.herviewfromhome.com

We met online in October of 2005, by way of a spam email ad I was THIS CLOSE to marking as trash. Meet Single Christians! My cheese alert siren sounded loudly, but for some reason, I unchecked the delete box and clicked through to the site. We met face-to-face that Thanksgiving. As I awaited your arrival in my mother’s kitchen, my dad whispered to my little brother, “Hide your valuables. Stacy has some guy she met online coming for Thanksgiving dinner.” We embraced for the first time in my parents’ driveway. I was wearing my black cashmere sweater with the...

Keep Reading

To The Mother Who Is Overwhelmed

In: Inspiration, Motherhood
Tired woman with coffee sitting at table

I have this one head. It is a normal sized head. It didn’t get bigger because I had children. Just like I didn’t grow an extra arm with the birth of each child. I mean, while that would be nice, it’s just not the case. We keep our one self. And the children we add on each add on to our weight in this life. And the head didn’t grow more heads because we become a wife to someone. Or a boss to someone. We carry the weight of motherhood. The decisions we must make each day—fight the shorts battle...

Keep Reading

You’re a Little Less Baby Today Than Yesterday

In: Journal, Motherhood
Toddler sleeping in mother's arms

Tiny sparkles are nestled in the wispy hair falling across her brow, shaken free of the princess costume she pulled over her head this morning. She’s swathed in pink: a satiny pink dress-up bodice, a fluffy, pink, slightly-less-glittery-than-it-was-two-hours-ago tulle skirt, a worn, soft pink baby blanket. She’s slowed long enough to crawl into my lap, blinking heavy eyelids. She’s a little less baby today than she was only yesterday.  Soon, she’ll be too big, too busy for my arms.  But today, I’m rocking a princess. The early years will be filled with exploration and adventure. She’ll climb atop counters and...

Keep Reading

Dear Husband, I Loved You First

In: Marriage, Motherhood, Relationships
Man and woman kissing in love

Dear husband, I loved you first. But often, you get the last of me. I remember you picking me up for our first date. I spent a whole hour getting ready for you. Making sure every hair was in place and my make-up was perfect. When you see me now at the end of the day, the make-up that is left on my face is smeared. My hair is more than likely in a ponytail or some rat’s nest on the top of my head. And my outfit, 100% has someone’s bodily fluids smeared somewhere. But there were days when...

Keep Reading

Stop Being a Butthole Wife

In: Grief, Journal, Marriage, Relationships
Man and woman sit on the end of a dock with arms around each other

Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it.  Let’s start with the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It’s maddening. It’s insanity. Why, why, must he leave piles of clothes scattered, the same way that the toddler does, right? I mean, grow up and help out around here, man. There is no laundry fairy. What if that pile of laundry is a gift in disguise from a God you can’t (yet) see? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Be Everyone’s Chick-fil-A Sauce

In: Friendship, Journal, Living, Relationships
woman smiling in the sun

A couple of friends and I went and grabbed lunch at Chick-fil-A a couple of weeks ago. It was delightful. We spent roughly $20 apiece, and our kids ran in and out of the play area barefoot and stinky and begged us for ice cream, to which we responded, “Not until you finish your nuggets,” to which they responded with a whine, and then ran off again like a bolt of crazy energy. One friend had to climb into the play tubes a few times to save her 22-month-old, but it was still worth every penny. Every. Single. One. Even...

Keep Reading

Love Notes From My Mother in Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Journal, Living
Woman smelling bunch of flowers

Twelve years have passed since my mother exclaimed, “I’ve died and gone to Heaven!” as she leaned back in her big donut-shaped tube and splashed her toes, enjoying the serenity of the river.  Twelve years since I stood on the shore of that same river, 45 minutes later, watching to see if the hopeful EMT would be able to revive my mother as she floated toward his outstretched hands. Twelve years ago, I stood alone in my bedroom, weak and trembling, as I opened my mother’s Bible and all the little keepsakes she’d stowed inside tumbled to the floor.  It...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Friendships End, No Matter How Hard You Try

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Sad woman alone without a friend

I tried. We say these words for two reasons. One: for our own justification that we made an effort to complete a task; and two: to admit that we fell short of that task. I wrote those words in an e-mail tonight to a friend I had for nearly 25 years after not speaking to her for eight months. It was the third e-mail I’ve sent over the past few weeks to try to reconcile with a woman who was more of a sister to me at some points than my own biological sister was. It’s sad when we drift...

Keep Reading

Goodbye to the House That Built Me

In: Grown Children, Journal, Living, Relationships
Ranch style home as seen from the curb

In the winter of 1985, while I was halfway done growing in my mom’s belly, my parents moved into a little brown 3 bedroom/1.5 bath that was halfway between the school and the prison in which my dad worked as a corrections officer. I would be the first baby they brought home to their new house, joining my older sister. I’d take my first steps across the brown shag carpet that the previous owner had installed. The back bedroom was mine, and mom plastered Smurf-themed wallpaper on the accent wall to try to get me to sleep in there every...

Keep Reading