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When we were younger, and we’d have a fight, we’d practice the ‘never go to bed angry’ rule. No matter what the argument was or who was right or wrong, Heath always made it a point to wrap his arms around my body, pulling me to him. Sometimes he’d whisper that he loved me before placing a kiss on the crown of my head, then rolling over to his side of the bed. Other times he’d keep me close until he fell asleep, but Heath didn’t try to talk to me again once I rolled over and pulled the blankets over my shoulder. Feeling the bed dip as he got in was like another crack to my heart.

Last night was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Twenty years of marriage, countless talks of encouragement, loans pulled to start that business, and he didn’t think to mention me. Or his kids. The knife couldn’t go any deeper. I think the fact that he didn’t acknowledge the kids was worse than him not being able to answer my questions. I’m an adult, I can handle that type of rejection, but I wonder if the kids were put off by him not mentioning them.

Once Heath left for work, I called Charlie, my eldest son. With him being stationed in Germany, I knew he’d be off duty by the time I got around to calling him since that’s the typical time we make contact. Having my son halfway across the world has taken some getting used to. I always assumed he’d be stateside so that he would be able to visit more, or we go to him, but that wasn’t the case.

Talking about separation, broken families and hurt feelings, isn’t a topic I like by any means, no matter how old Charlie is. I felt that I needed to make that call and tell him some of the things that I’ve had on my mind over the past few weeks…months…years. Like the adult and good kid that he is, he understood where I was coming from. He only wants his parents happy, no matter how that’s accomplished.

From the moment I try to wake my kids in the morning, my day goes at full speed. I wake up early with Heath’s schedule, so there are nights when we can be in bed before the sun goes down, so I have no clue when my kids actually go to bed. I’m in my forties, and I’m tired. I’m not about to stay up until those two are fast asleep in dreamland. I need to be patient when it comes to my job, and that requires me to get enough sleep so that I’m not screaming at my classroom all day.

The school year is always full of drama and tons of fighting in the mornings. You’d think with one kid out of the house it would have gotten better, but it hasn’t. If it’s not the kids, it’s the dog. Harper is the reason why we’ve only had one dog. My kids have tried, Lord have they tried, to get us to commit to another dog, but no way.

“Let’s go!” I yell as I close my bedroom door. “We need to leave now.” I continue down the hall with the clicking of my heels. “Where’s Harper?” I call out. When no one answers, I go on the hunt for the dog. Once I reach the back slider, I see Harper sitting at the door. Without paying attention, I pull the glass open.

“I still have to brush my teeth,” Jenna whines as she enters the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Trevor?” I ask when I see his head leaning against the couch. “Do you have everything you need packed?” Without warning, Harper jumps at my back, making me stumble forward. I lose my footing, almost twisting my ankle. “Damn it.”

He turns his head to look at me. “You okay, Mom?”

“Yeah. Is your backpack ready? I don’t want to get a phone call because you’ve left an assignment at home.” When I turn around, I notice that Harper’s paws are full of mud.

“Uh, Mom?” I swing my head around to meet Trevor’s eyes. “You’ve got mud all over your back.”

“Son of a–” I can’t get the words out because Harper jumps at me, barking in greeting. “Harper, no!” I scream. “Get her outside, Trevor. Now.” I push her muddy paws from my clothes.

“What if it rains?”

“I don’t care at this moment. Text your father and tell him to come by the house to let her in if it starts. I need to change my clothes,” I say as I make my way down the hall.

Rushing towards myroom, I pull the shirt over my head. Taking the zipper from the back of my skirt, I pull it down allowing the fabric to fall away from my body. I step out of my skirt, I kick it towards the hamper. After flicking on the light to my closet, I pull the closest dress from the rack and throw it over my head.

Passing Jenna, still in the bathroom, she calls out to me, “Mom?”

“What?” I snap.

“Um, your shoes don’t match your dress.”

Looking down I see that she’s right. The navy and white stripes completely clash with my floral dress. Perfect.

“Jenna, we need to leave now!” I scream as I hop down the hall, pulling my shoes to my feet.

“Okay,” she whines again. “Hold on, let me get my bag.”

Once we’re inthe car, the radio is turned to their favorite hip-hop station, one that I continually tell them I can’t stand. Same thing, different day.

My kids attend both the high school and middle school that are also located on the base. This is another one of the perks of the contract. They can easily go to the public-school closest to our house, but the military offers more advanced classes, more worldwide education than what our local school system does. The schools on bases are stricter than our typical schools, which works for Trevor since he tends to need that extra kick in the pants to keep him focused. Although Jenna’s favorite subject is drama 101, she’s a smart cookie, so she’s here for the more advanced classes to help push her academically.

Another thing that the military base offers is a foreign exchange type opportunity for those kids who attend a school on the base. Jenna has been looking forward to getting that opportunity when she gets a bit older. We’ve taken part of that program when our oldest, Charlie was in the tenth grade. He switched with a child whose dad was stationed in Germany. We had Devlin with us an entire year while Charlie stayed with his parents in Germany. That experience was the main reason why Charlie decided to enlist in the military and is now stationed in Germany. He keeps in touch with Devlin and his family who are still there.

“I need you guys to get off your phones,” I tell them both, but I’m looking in the rear-view mirror to make sure Jenna does as I say. That girl and her obsession with social media. With a roll of an eye, she listens and drops her phone in her lap. “I want to talk to you guys about something.”

“Are we in trouble?” Jenna asks as she sits up. I watch her throat bob as she swallows, which tells me there’s something there that I don’t know about yet.

“No, honey, why do you ask that?”

“And why did you say we?” Trevor adds. “I’m not involved in anything that you and your friends are doing.”