Entitled?

Cross posted from LeftFace... go check out some of our other writer's takes on this topic!

HELL YES. Yes, we are entitled. Period. End of sentence.

Then again, maybe deserving is the better term. Certainly sounds less undeserving and snooty, don’t you think???

When I hear stories like the one posted here about the Marine’s family (the one Tom Rick’s re-posted on his blog and raised the ire of some commenters) having to beg to get home with their fallen soldier, when I hear stories about families falling through the cracks because of too few services, spouses giving up hard-earned careers to PCS from installation to installation every 3-ish years with no real help on the horizon, when I hear about programs getting yanked (Hello MyCAA!) without proper notice and without regard for those affected… I get angry. Not because I am a MilSpouse and those issues affect me too. Not because I think any of these programs are The Best Ever. Not because I think that we are better than our civilian counterparts. And not because my family or I use any of these programs. (Which, for the record, do not.) But because someone made a promise to us… someone said what you do, what you endure, what you experience as a MilSpouse warrants a bit of help, warrants a helping hand when your spouse’s career and the Greater Good stacks the deck against you in nearly every way (home life, marriage, parenting, friendships, career, sanity), warrants programs that help you because you are stationed 1,200 miles away from the family & friends that would normally lend a hand, warrants the respect and compassion of the civilian world who really have NO idea what it is like to be one of us. And they were right.

I think we (Military Families) have earned these programs and the respect of the American Public and I don’t think for one minute that we are out of line when we expect these things to be there for us. I think we are justified in our rage over the indifference of the American Public, I think we are right to expect a little bit of help when we put our spouse’s career (and, again the Greater Good) ahead of all else, I think we are even, sometimes, warranted in our isolation from the civilian world (really, how many times can you suffer through a conversation where someone just doesn’t get it and refuses to try?), and, in case you were wondering, also think that sometimes we are wrong. But I digress.

Saying we ‘deserve’ all this or that we have earned it may reek of entitlement but it’s the honest truth. Why? Because we are different, our lives are different. No matter which way you slice it, we are different from our civilian spouse counterparts. What we do, what our families do, what our spouses do is more dangerous, more treacherous, more risky, more honorable than any (okay, most) of the civilian families out there. What we sacrifice, what we deal with (on a nearly annual basis, not to mention training), what our spouses do is just plain different. We don’t have the choices they do, we don’t have the latitude, we don’t have the control over our lives like they do. We are servants of the DoD. By choice. So they don’t have to be. So yeah, we deserve it. And we earned it.

Of course, we volunteered for this, yes, we chose this life. BUT. That is the point. We did what no one wanted to do. We stood up and said, WE will bear this burden for you. We said its okay for you to stay home in your safe and cozy subdivision with your picket fence and American Dream, we’ll do annual deployments, sustain a marriage over the phone, run a household alone, miss holidays, miss births, cram in weddings on R&R, all while living in fear of a dark sedan, a knock on the door and a future as a Gold Star family.

Did I know what I was getting into? Hell no. I had no idea what I was in for. I just knew I loved a man who happened to be in the Army. But this whole ‘choosing’ business really sticks in my craw. The American Public should be grateful, relieved and revere those who CHOSE to do this so they wouldn’t have to. And for the record, if choosing means I loose my right to whine about it, then I don’t want to hear you whine about your kids or your husband or your job, because after all, you choose them. But, again, I digress.

In light of all this, it is so sad that we get grief over the programs that are out there to support us. When we (rightfully) complain about programs that are either not in place and should be or are taken away, we get called entitled and chided for asking for handouts. To that I say BACK THE TRUCK UP. After all our families sacrifice, it shouldn’t kill anyone to give us a few extra dollars to go back to school and scrape out a new career that may travel with us on our next PCS (which makes the communities we live in better and stronger). It seems perfectly reasonable to have programs or volunteers who offer actual help to our families, from marriage counseling, therapy, childcare, house/yardwork, and some tax-free income. It seems downright silly to question a year of tax-free salaries when the trade-off is bullets, IEDs, suicide bombers, overflowing Port-A-Potties, dead birds in your dining hall, MRE’s, sand in places sand has no business being in and missing out on a year in the life you built for yourself. I’d say we even deserve a bit more. And, it wouldn’t hurt if more than 3 people would stand up on a flight of over 100 and say, here, have my seat, your loved one gave his life for our country and for the betterment of the lives of others (so I didn’t have to), I can change my plans so that you can accompany his body home for his funeral.

If that makes us entitled… then fine, I’m okay with it. Last time I checked no one was asking for free vacations to Hawaii, 80” flat screen TVs and sports cars in every car port (because our “free” housing doesn’t come with garages or basements and they always share walls)… we are asking for support, we are asking for help when the cards are against us, we are asking for the respect that has been earned. And I don’t think that’s asking too much. Period.

*Caveat: Of COURSE there are soldiers/familes/spouses that maybe aren’t on the up-and-up, of course there are some that are despicable and unreasonable, but they aren’t the norm (thankfully).

Be awesome.

A little NPH wisdom for your Tuesday morning. Things are still insane-o here, but I have a few rants in my head prepping for blog-posts once company leaves and things get back to normal. In the meantime? Be Awesome, Not Sad.

Funny, but also awesome.

Tongue in cheek? Absolutely. But also? Secretly true. I hope you all feel this way about yourselves deep down inside! :)

I promise to post more soon, we have family in town and a wedding and some hospital drama and yeah, not enough time for blogging. Have a stellar start to your week and always remember how brilliant and amazing you are.

Memorial Day, 2010.

Arlington National Cemetary, originally uploaded by Awesomesauce Studios.

"The 30th day of May is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet church-yard in the land. In this observance no form of ceremony is prescribed, but posts and comrades will in their own way arrange such fitting services and testimonials of respect as circumstances may permit.

We are organized, comrades, as our regulations tell us, for the purpose among other things, "of preserving and strengthening those kind and fraternal feelings which have bound together the soldiers, sailors, and marines who united to suppress the late rebellion." What can aid more to assure this result than cherishing tenderly the memory of our heroic dead, who made their breasts a barricade between our country and its foes? Their soldier lives were the reveille of freedom to a race in chains, and their deaths the tattoo of rebellious tyranny in arms. We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let no wanton foot tread rudely on such hallowed grounds. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten as a people the cost of a free and undivided republic.

If other eyes grow dull, other hands slack, and other hearts cold in the solemn trust, ours shall keep it well as long as the light and warmth of life remain to us.

Let us, then, at the time appointed gather around their sacred remains and garland the passionless mounds above them with the choicest flowers of spring-time; let us raise above them the dear old flag they saved from hishonor; let us in this solemn presence renew our pledges to aid and assist those whom they have left among us a sacred charge upon a nation's gratitude, the soldier's and sailor's widow and orphan."

-JOHN A. LOGAN,
Commander-in-Chief
General Orders No.11, WASHINGTON, D.C., May 5, 1868
___________________________________________________
May you all take a moment to remember what this day is really all about. To remember those who have served, those who have lost, those who have given all or part of themselves to serving their country. Remember all of the wars, all of the conflicts, all of the generations touched by the noble, honorable, brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice in the service of our great country and in the name of freedom.

I, for one, will always be grateful to and humbled by these selfless men and women.

Pimping out homecomings.

I got to thinking... and my thinking got me to formulating a blog post, and this post will likely ruffle some feathers, so my thinking might get me in a spot of trouble. That being said, please don't be offended dear readers! I'm not speaking specifically to anyone and I'm really just trying to explore this topic and how we share and what we share and where the lines in the sand are for each of us.

So, Pioneer Woman is doing one of her photography assignments, which I love even though she never picks mine (but she did pick one of Brits!). Apparently the 'happiness' assignment last week garnered a ton of military homecoming posts, so this week's assignment is coming home. Specifically, the military kind (though near as I can tell other non-military permutations of the theme are allowed). And oh, are there submissions. Like coming out of the woodwork. (Sort of made me feel like we were a much bigger community than we really are! Crazy!).

Now, even though I'm a MilSpouse and we just had a homecoming and I am a total photography junkie... I don't have a submission to send in. Are you shocked? Well, I will tell you why. First- practicality. I didn't know anyone when I PCS'd down here so when Swiss came home shortly thereafter I didn't have anyone to come with me to photograph it- his family didn't come down either, so I was flying solo. Second- weather. It was raining and cold and crappy and muddy and the whole shin-dig was outside. This doth not a pretty scene make. Thirdly- and most importantly (to me)- privacy. Plain and simple, that was an epic moment between Swiss and I that I just couldn't bear to share with anyone else, let alone strangers.

See, I'm VERY protective of that moment. That was the culmination of a suck-tastic year... so much time apart, so much heartache and difficulties, so much worry and fear and the emotional roller coaster... that homecoming ceremony, that moment when we were reunited was something precious we both earned with sweat, tears and 365 days/ 7,000 miles of distance. I sort of feel like sharing that moment with anyone is letting them get all the good of a deployment (at least the feel-good buzz and warm fuzzy feeling) without putting in any of the work. I know that might seem ridiculous to many of you, but there it is. That was, and always will be, OUR moment. Not for public consumption. Not for pimping. Not for awards. Not for blog comments. Not to make anyone else feel good. Not to drive home some point about these wars. Ours. Alone. Because we earned it.

Is that 84 shades of over-dramatic? Some might think so... and of course y'all are entitled to that, without a doubt. But there is just something about seeing all these photos pouring into the blog-o-sphere that makes me cringe. Sure, they are touching and emotional and offer a window into our lifestyle that many don't get to see. But maybe that is the issue. They don't get to see the nights waiting by the phone, feverishly checking e-mails, they don't get to see the panic when a dark sedan rolls past the house a little too slowly for comfort, or the fear when there is a knock at the door. They don't get to see the nights you lay awake crying because all you want in this whole world is just to feel him close again, smell him, hold him. They don't get to watch us struggle with managing an entire household, a family alone. Nor do they get to watch us feverishly put together care packages and write letters because it is all you can do and you just have to stay busy or it will consume you. They don't see the lonely nights alone, the missed holidays, the spectacular crashes so many of us feel after R&Rs. They don't see all the things that go into that homecoming. They are spectacular because of the year that preceded them and all that the couple endured, together. They are spectacular because they aren't superfluous, there is weight and meaning behind them, they are spectacular because they were hard-fought, they were earned.

Have you noticed that we don't share the crappy stuff (except with each other)? When strangers ask, "How do you do it?" we always reply, with a shrug and some easy, practiced comment about how we just do. We rarely ask for help during deployments... we bear that burden -mostly- alone. Camera crews don't show up to document how hard deployments are on families and no one orders a photo shoot to capture just how sucky that time was. (Can you just imagine? A photographic reminder of all the sad, lonely nights on the couch with the dog and a glass- or 3- of wine? DEPRESSING!) Why won't we let the public see the crappy stuff, but when they ask for the glorious, hard-earned, emotional, intensely personal homecoming p0rn, we send the photos flying out the door faster than you can say "Cheese!"?

Is it pride? Is it some sort of statement- political or otherwise? Is it just about sharing? Or... is it the attention? The blog numbers bump? The publicity? (Gaw, I'm so cynical!) What is it that makes so many of us share these intensely personal moments, in great detail, with perfect strangers and non-military folks? Just looking at the photos on the flickr page makes me feel a little pervy and like a Peeping Tom. Knowing how I feel about our homecoming, seeing photos of other's out there leaves me feeling a little dirty, like I saw something I shouldn't have been privy to. Yet, there they are, on tremendously public sites like flickr or the Pioneer Woman... willingly, enthusiastically put our there for anyone and everyone to see. Like its no big deal. Its almost as if the MilSpouses of the world took this 'recognition' from a civilian blogger and were so wanting to be included and made to feel special that they couldn't toss those personal moments into the ring fast enough. I'm certain that isn't the case for all of them, but I'd be willing to bet its the case for many.

I am sure I offended some of you, and that wasn't my intention at all. We are, obviously, all free to do whatever we choose and we are allowed to disagree. I'm mostly just trying to understand the whys and wherefores behind sharing these moments. What is it about sharing these photographs that makes you want to do it? What do you get out of it? Are there any of you who have shared them and wished they hadn't - or vice versa? How do you feel when you see other's photos of homecomings? I'm tremendously interested in how people choose to share and what they choose to share- it is always a fine line- especially for us bloggers and Facebook users. So, please, tell me what you think about all of this, even if you think I'm nuts!!!

Lawns, watering & futility.

Okay, so Fort X is in the 'south'. It is hot here already. We've been in the 90s for about a month now. And it is only going to get worse. Summertime averages are hovering in the 100's. I'm not complaining about the temps though - at least not yet. But here IS my beef: the housing folks here insist on everyone having lush green lawns, and in order to make that happen in the face of 6 straight months of 80+ degree weather with peaks in the 110's, you have to water your lawn. HAVE TO. Its only the end of May and ours is already showing signs of brown crispiness. Tres unattractive.

But you know what? I loathe watering lawns. Loathe. Not only is it a huge (HUGE!) waste of water, but it actually makes the grass less strong, have weaker roots and more susceptible to drought. Once you start, you can't stop until fall or you decide you don't mind having a crunchy carpet of tan in the back yard. Its a vicious and unnecessary cycle I'd just rather not be a part of. But the housing folks here insist we water. So water we must. Against all my better judgement and all the numbers...

Dig this: the average 1,000 square foot lawn 'requires' 8 inches of water a month during the growing season (our state averages- using the high figures- 2.6" per month- its usually way less than that), that means over the course of one month, ONE family would use just shy of 5,000 gallons of water. That adds up to over 30,000 gallons JUST during spring and summer. THIRTY THOUSAND gallons of water. For just your lawn. Do the math, according to the post housing office, there are around 6,000 homes here. 6,000 x 30,0000 = 180 MILLION GALLONS. In six months. (For reference, that is about 272 Olympic sized pools) And Fort X claims to be all about the water conservation... tell them your toilet is running or your faucet is leaking? They'll be out ASAP on an emergency maintenance call, BUT... you still have to water your lawn daily.

Hunh?

I, for one, would have LOVED to see Fort X have nice, soft pea gravel back yards (my friend had one in Phoenix and it was perfectly lovely- though the pool did help), we wouldn't have to mow all the time (and therefore we wouldn't have to send out the neighborhood CO to shake his finger at the homes who aren't mowing frequently enough), they are virtually maintenance free, no bald spots from Spot running circles in the yard, and no watering. Now, I suppose there would be a milliondy high-maintenance families screeching about how there's no grass for their kidlets to frolic in. To which I would say, People, we practically live in the desert. Get over it. (Or, if you are nicer than I am, you could set aside a few lush grassy areas in each neighborhood to give the grass lovers their fix.)

Anyway, this is the bug that is in my craw. I am awaiting the nasty-gram stuck in our door because we aren't watering the lawn and it is slowly turning brown. But, deep down, I also don't want to get sacked with the fees for replacing an entire yard's worth of sod (not that it is a grassy yard, though, it is mostly weeds that we MUST water). So fight on I will, and try to get by on the bare minimum watering possibly allowed. May the force be with me!

A house divided.

Well, not really. We aren't really THAT divided. Only on a few key issues (Democrat vs. Republican is the biggest and causes much gnashing of teeth)... but the one that is currently driving me up the wall to a chorus of nails on blackboards? Planner vs. last-minuter. I would be the planner of the bunch. Sadly, most of Swiss's family falls into the last-minuter category.

For example: We have a family wedding to go to in early June. We knew about the wedding, but only got the invites with the final dates late last week (replete with ambiguous times like 'at sunset'... does that mean the ceremony is precisely at the time for sunset listed in moon-phase charts or is there a more specific time everyone knows about except us?). Ummm, its late May. I'm pretty sure our wedding invites were out like 3 month prior to the event. But I digress. Aside from being given zero information about hotels (its an out-of-towner) and spending a few hours of my day hunting down hotels presumably near the wedding location, I've been desperately trying to find a kennel for Mr. Fletcher.

I'm hoping I can garner some sympathy from the pet-owners out there because this was SO much harder than I thought it would be. We had a perfectly WONDERFUL place for him to be boarded at back in Minnesota and it was always just so easy. Here? Some places only take the dogs out 3 times a day. Others are 100% indoors. One makes you get Bordetella vaccinations every 6 months even though Vets only recommend doing it once a year (and naturally we fall outside the 6 month window). And better yet, I found one that doesn't allow any pick-ups on Saturdays OR Sundays? Wha??? Anyway, I finally tracked down a kennel with their acts together and wouldn't you know it. Already booked up. EFF.

Now, if you recall this post, you know that this isn't a new issue for us, the ongoing battle of planner and fly-by-your-seater. And at least this one wasn't either of our faults. But COME ON. I am currently in a holding pattern that will either get us a pricey individual cottage kennel in the next town up (rather inconvenient as this will have Fletcher in the back seat of the Altima with my MIL and I for at least a half hour, yikes!) or just taking him with us (our hotel is pet friendly) but that just sounds like a horrible idea since it is a wedding and you never know how long this stuff lasts and would involve Fletch in the back seat with my MIL and I for 3 hours. Ugh.

I can honestly say that, coming from a family of planners (to the nth degree often), the lack of planning by the other half of family in your life really is enough to drive you to drink. Do any of you suffer from this affliction? How do you manage and how do you get all your planning in without being the anal-retentive one constantly pestering folks for dates? Or do you just say screw it and pester away? What is the best way to avoid these situations short of demanding dates and lots of stomping of the feet? Okay, well I am off to twiddle my thumbs until the doggie cottage place calls me back. Wish me luck folks!

Camera strap cover.

Camera strap cover, originally uploaded by Awesomesauce Studios.

Well, since I got all existential on you about being a housewife, I thought I'd post some more pics of the fruits of my labor... or what I've been doing when I haven't been doing the dishes. I got the tutorial from Cluck, Cluck, Sew and it worked like a dream! I just slid it over the existing strap, though there are ways to replace the old strap all-together (Go LopsidedMom!). Anyway, it was fun and I knocked it out in an hour, between laundry, cooking AND dishes. Suck on that housewifery!!!

Stay at home wifery.

Aaah, the perils of being a non-working former working gal. Let me first say that I 100% recognize how incredibly lucky I am to be in a position where I don't have to work and our household income is still plenty sufficient to live the life we like. So yes, I am in full understanding of the fact that I am lucky that I get to whine about such inane things. Hopefully that will prevent your eyes from rolling back so hard they get stuck...

Okay, back on point. Stay at home wifery. I find this to be an entirely odd 'profession' where I am constantly negotiating the line between lazy-useless-good-for-nothing and industrious-June-Cleaver-uberhousewife. Neither are a good thing, I don't want to be the wife who stays at home all day and still lives in a pig sty with no clean underwear and 2 weeks worth of dishes rotting away in the sink. I also don't want to indulge my OCD tendencies and become the sort of housewife that has nary a throw pillow out of place and no traceable specs of unruly dust floating through the house. Swiss isn't fond of either incarnation and let's be real here, neither of those extremes are likely to happen anyway.

What I'm having trouble with is the day to day choices. If there are dishes in the sink (dishes are still Swiss's chore because I loathe them and Swiss loves me) and I choose to quilt or paint or blog, am I being a bad housewife? Should housework and cooking and laundry always trump the multitude of other ways I could spend my days? How do I deal with the nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I'm being lazy when I suggest going out to dinner rather than cooking? How do I reconcile the days when I just cannot bring myself to vacuum or dust or put away the laundry for the nth day in a row so I watch the Food Network and HGTV and blog? And just how ridiculous is it that I have this inner turmoil over being a good housewife when Swiss could care less?

See, I am used to having tasks to do, I am used to work, I am used to having to show some sort of proof of my accomplishments on any given day. To me, if the house isn't reasonably fabulous, I must have been slacking because an imperfect house means I can't point to the tangible things I've done. A quilt isn't what stay at home wives do, cleaning is. A witty blog post only means I wasn't spending my time buffing the linoleum. Ridiculous, right?

I am mostly good at moving past this silly little ear bug, but man, there are days when I feel like doing the things I want to do with this gift of a year off is nothing short of selfish and when Swiss has to go to work all day, the least I can do is have a spotless house for him to come home to. Even though he doesn't care. Seriously, someone please slap me! Thankfully this is one of my quirks that I alone have to deal with, and it is one that is *usually* easy enough to move past. Because when you have 15 different sewing projects gnawing away at your brain, the vacuuming can always wait. Right?

My quest for creativity... part quilts.

DUDES! I made a quilt. Actually, two of them. QUILTS! Like sewing and math and it actually came together as something rectangular (mostly) in shape and perfectly wonderful for snuggling in. Can you tell I am super proud of myself? See, I am no sewer, I never had a whole lot of direction/instruction, so I mostly did this in a learn-as-you-go process and I am beyond geeked that it actually worked. So geeked, in fact, that I quickly started up some baby quilts for a pregnant friend I'll be visiting this fall. Anywhoodles, on to the photographic evidence that I'm not making this stuff up!

First up- my quilt. I made it from all my old college tees that I don't wear anymore but just can't bear to part with (I'm hopelessly sentimental and secretly a total pack-rat). And can I just say that jersey is hard to work with? But it still worked out well and the back is flannel so it is super awesome to curl up with. Also, its big enough for two people to snuggle on the couch under... and no fear of your toes ending up cold because the blanket is too skimpy. So, yes HOORAY for me!

Also, Fletcher approves of the blanket. This is his highest form of compliment.

Next, the baby quilt! I LOVED doing this one. Mostly because it was smaller and inordinately easier to manage on my non-quilt specific sewing machine. Also, I 'discovered' the disappearing 9s pattern idea thingy online... fabulous! And easier than any sort of quilting has any right to be. The hardest part was finding boy material that wasn't cammo, tractor, or sports team based. But I am rather pleased with the outcome!

Here's the final beauty shot... just before I put on the dreaded binding (my least favorite part).

Okay, so that concludes my show-and-tell today. I can honestly say that all this creativity DOING is doing me a world of good. Plus, it feels a lot better to walk away from a day with this as your work rather than piles of laundry and vacuumed floors!

Sad, sappy sack.

Aah, bugger. I hate it when the sad sappies strike. You never know when or where, you don't know what will trigger them, and once they are there... there's no denying them. *sigh*

The other night it was hearing Swiss whistle the way my always Grandpa did... he was a whistler. The kind of whistle that has a subtle warble, vibrato thingy to it. We were watching Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings together and he whistled along with the happy music from the scenes in the Shire and the tears came. Slow and steady... I miss that man so very much. I miss so many things from life PreD (pre-Deployment)...

I miss how life was before then. We had a home, we lived together, my family was whole (mostly), my friends were close, my life was 'normal'... or at least normal as I knew it. So much has changed in the last year plus. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by them all... and here I thought life PostD would be easy and breezy without a care in the world. Ha!

As I heard Swiss whistle... the memory of the phone call in the San Fransisco Airport came flooding back. Calling home to see how the family was doing... hearing from my dad that my grandfather, my last grandparent, had a stroke, a very bad one and was in the hospital. I remember the instant tears that came flooding in, hot and unrelenting. I remember the fear and worry that I might never see him again. I remember thinking that it couldn't possibly be his time yet.

The I remembered rushing home to Wisconsin as soon as I arrived back from the airport. I remember packing up the dog and my dirty clothes and driving through the night just to get home. I remember recounting all the wonderful memories I had of my dear, sweet, kind Grandfather... the laughs, the silliness, the wisdom, the quirks, the love. I remember worrying about my Mom and how hard it was to see him in the hospital, hard to watch him suffer. I remember him trying SO hard to talk, to let us know he loved us. I remember doing everything in my power to keep it together for him. I remember thinking over and over again- it isn't his time. It can't be.

But it was. And it was horrible, and it was one of those times you so desperately want your spouse home (curse you deployment!). So they can help bear the burden of your pain and hurt and loss. So they can be the ones to comfort you and ease you through the rough spots. I remember not wanting to weight my Mom down with my emotions, trying to be strong for her. And I remember looking back, after it was all done, wondering what had happened to the person I was just a short year ago.

Those are the times you look in a mirror and see someone new staring back at you. You see the same face, the same features, but they are almost imperceptibly hardened, reinforced, steeled. You find that you don't react the way you once did to the litany of things that come flying your way. You find that you, even at the age of 31, have changed in a slight but profound way. Maybe it is innocence leaving, maybe it is naiveté vanishing, maybe it is just the toll of sending a loved on to war- the natural wear and tear of such a stressful and all-encompassing thing. But sometimes, I find myself wishing for the person I used to be to come back. I miss the utter honesty of my emotions- I wasn't ever the girl who could keep her feelings in, I cried, I laughed, I reacted with quasi-composed abandon. I miss the innocence I had, about how challenging life really is, I miss the blissfully deluded world I used to live in.

---

But here I sit, a few days removed from my sad sappy night, and I can rejoice in the beauty of the things that have happened to us since then. Swiss and I have been reunited, we are happily and madly in love, we have some new friends, I've appreciated the wondermousness of my 'old' friends, I am still utterly amazed by the incredible people I get to call my family and I can sappily and happily reflect on so many years of memories with the ones who aren't with us anymore. So maybe, just maybe, all this change, all this heartache, all this loss- while still sad and utterly sucktastic- helps me keep my perspective and be appreciative of all that I do have. And it reminds me how lucky I was to have such an amazing man like my Grandpa in my life for so long.

Book report. Shop Class as Soulcraft.

Okay, first things first: Why in the heck did I choose to buy this particular book? Because I'm adrift on the sea of careers- wandering aimlessly with the currents hoping to run aground on a job that I don't hate. I can't decide WHAT I want to do, I am should-ing all over myself, and am totally and completely hung up on notions of what a "good" job is. What's worse? I feel utterly beholden to my 4 year degree- like the world will swallow me whole as punishment for taking a job that doesn't make use of my degree. I'm frustrated and confused with an extra helping of baggage. So I thought this book might help me change my view, get me thinking outside the box and maybe, just maybe, give me some direction.

Shop Class as Soulcraft. By Matthew B. Crawford.

And you know what? It is pretty awesome. And eye opening. Also? A little bit disturbing. But I'll get there... I'm not going to write some dissertation on this book, nor am I going to get all up in your grill about buying it or reading it or whatever... but I guess I just wanted to do a little sharing. Because sharing is caring. Or at least that is what I say when Swiss has ice cream and what he says when I have a tasty beverage. Though, to be fair, I reserve the right for this post to get completely out of hand and turn into a dissertation/book report. Sometimes I get carried away... can't be helped I'm afraid!

Anywhoodles. So, there's this idea out there that manual labor is somehow "less" (in most every way) than the more traditional 'knowledge' labor. Parents don't want their kids to be plumbers, they want them to go to college and become an architect who designs the plans for the plumber. Though, in today's economy, that architect's job can be outsourced, sent overseas, or even delegated to a computer program. What about the plumber? His work can't be outsourced, it can't be done by a computer, and no one wants an inexperienced amateur doing their plumbing work. Plus, he gets to charge you about $80/hour for your troubles because he is an expert. Hmmm. I never made $80 an hour with my college degree (plus an extra degree!)... I made less than half of that. Less. Than. Half. With 5 years of college. Working at a world-famous medical center. As an "expert". Less than half. Think about that for a minute...

Furthermore, Crawford talks about the idea that working with your hands, gaining experience and expertise in a specific trade is generally more gratifying and soul-quenching than talking about theoretical things and doing paperwork and getting lost in the management miasma that is the modern workplace. And I can't disagree with that at all. Not one bit. Not even if I tried. Think about the satisfaction you get from making a spectacular meal, or harvesting the vegetables from the garden you planted, or the admiration and pride you get from seeing the quilt you imagined, completed and on the bed. Think about how gratifying it is to do something well and have concrete proof of your skills. Doing a photo shoot and getting so many wonderful shots you have to work hard to pare them down? That is a wonderful feeling. Knitting a sweater you can actually wear. Building a play set for your kids. Changing your own oil. Fixing the loose tile in the bathroom. YOU did it, YOU succeeded. Satisfaction. Pride. Concrete proof of your mad skillz. I can honestly say that at my previous job afforded me little of that... and what was there? Fleeting at best.

And what of that satisfaction you get at these 'modern' jobs? Pride that you counted inventory correctly? Satisfaction that you didn't fall outside the ridiculous constructs that have been put upon you by the higher-ups? What kind of 'credit' do you get? Most of us never get anything more than a pat on the back or a flimsy e-mail. And where is the tangible evidence of how amazing you are (or, to be fair, your failures)?  I never got to meet the person who was successfully treated for their cancer after I made a challenging but accurate diagnosis. I can only point to a theoretical group of people who may or may not have actually been helped by the work I did. We are so far removed, usually, from the outcomes of the work we do that it is hard to reap any real satisfaction from our efforts.

Whats worse is that we are leading generations upon generations of future workers down the "College is the Only Way" path. Worse yet, the academic culture (not always) generally is more about generating graduates rather than thinkers or folks particularly well suited to specific jobs. I've seen students pushed through, I've seen college coursework that wasn't much more challenging than high school curriculums, and I can see how any degree only prepares you for the broad scope of a general topic, it does nothing to actually create someone who will be successful. This culture of Everyone Gets a College Degree! is de-valuing the degrees themselves. Furthermore, as a result we have created a workplace that requires documentation in order to get jobs. You have to have a Bachelors, or a Masters or a PhD to even qualify for SO many jobs... but really, what does that degree say about you? It says you went to school and finished your requirements... it (honestly) says precisely nothing about your ability to do any given job, nor does it predict how successful you will be in any given position.

And honestly, how much sense does that make? For example, Swiss just found a job on USAJobs for a dog handler with the TSA. The requirements? Experience working with dogs or a Masters degree. Whaaaa? Can anyone please tell me how having a Masters will make anyone more likely to be successful in this position? Wouldn't one think, rather, that someone with experience with security or tactical planning or identifying terrorist threats would be more in line with the particulars that would make one successful at this job? I fail to see how an extra 2 years of schooling makes ANYONE better suited to handle a dog in a security based position. School is theory. Experience is practical.

Now, before anyone goes thinking I'm here to bash the higher education system... that is far from the truth. I have a Bachelors and I learned a TON. It was beyond useful in shaping me, my outlook, my approach to problems and my intellectual understanding. It also served to broaden my view on things, experience new disciplines, opinions, cultures, etc. College is WONDERFUL for many people. And for some, the desired careers (understandably and appropriately) require these advanced degrees... professors, research scientists, doctors, policy analysts, lawyers, etc. The common thread to all of these (and simmilar) types of jobs is that the knowledge necessary to do to job well goes beyond what can be gained in 4 years as an undergraduate. This makes sense and I wouldn't dream of changing it. In these positions, having those advanced degrees actually does say something about you and your ability to do these jobs.

But getting back on point... the book does a pretty amazing job illustrating the struggles I've had with working in big-business corporate America. And yes, a large hospital totally qualifies. Though I loved working there, it was more of a result of the amazing people I worked with and less about the job and its structure. I found my frustrations arose with the variable and inarticulate nature of the generally accepted management approach (through little fault of the actual managers), the lack of direct exposure to the results of my work, and the touchy-feely-make-everyone-happy-even-if-they-aren't-hacking-it vibe of the modern workplace. Standards were not uniform and ideas of 'team' and 'teamwork' were rampant... all of which only served to minimize personal accountability, give the under performers crutches and punish the workhorses. Furthermore, it created a homogenized environment where certain personalities were oddities that needed more structure and other, more difficult types, were politely ignored for fear of conflict. All of these things are, generally, par for the course because of how the powers that be choose to maximize output and minimize cost. We all suffer because of the almighty dollar... and because we work in terms of theories and concepts, our successes and failures are measured in shades of grey and we all know that we can be replaced with relative ease. Not concrete work with black and white terms for success and failure.

So, now that this has turned into a dissertation, I HIGHLY recommend this book for anyone who is looking critically about their jobs or thinking about what new road they want to take in terms of work and careers. I'm not saying we should all throw in our respective hats and become electricians or motorcycle mechanics... but I do think reading this will give you a better understanding of what inherent issues in the workplace bother you the most, and help you weigh the pros and cons to working in corporate America. I, for one, realized that I thrive in environments where I can SEE the fruits of my labor and gain actual pride in the quality of my work, I do better where relationships are formed based on mutual respect rather than under the guise of being a 'team', and work best under concrete structure rather than the pervasive 'this is the rule until it isn't convenient anymore' culture. This has already been invaluable in my personal job hunt... the red flags are easier to see and I am more able to articulate my wants and goals for my next career.

I'm totally interested in hearing your take on these issues and/or your thoughts on the book if you've read it. For those of you currently job hunting... are these things you take into consideration or do you consider them a given and just deal with it? How valuable have you found your degrees to be and what is it, exactly, that prevents you from taking real pride and joy in your work? Do you really get more satisfaction working with your hands (in any way- from cooking to crafting to yardwork) than you do with your actual work? Can't wait to hear what you all think!

Musings.

-I love that Crystal Renn is 5'9" and a size twelve and therefore is "plus sized". Thank you Fashion World for simultaneously making spectacularly beautiful clothes and diminishing my positive self-image. As Uncle Karl says, "...no one wants to see round women." Boo hiss. But three cheers for Crystal- for being both fabulously gorgeous and landing huge modeling jobs as a woman who actually eats food.


-If I see one more Reebok EasyTone BUTTS! commercial I might vomit. I get it. Your shoes will make my butt look like Heidi Klum's. HOWEVER. Even if this was true (which, it isn't because you and I don't have her superior German engineered model genes)... it doesn't mean I would then start walking around in hot pants, bun huggers, or shortie shorts showing my cheek cleavage to the entire neighborhood, mmkay? Also, BTW, I am a woman, you are selling your product to me, please make it look and feel less like a film of a Maxim photo shoot. Kthanksbai.


-I am currently reading "Shop Class as Soulcraft" by Matthew Crawford. I love it. I will do a review of sorts in the coming days, but MAN, talk about a book that finally puts articulate words behind all the struggles I've had working in corporate big-business America. So far he's covered everything from the declining merit of higher education to the futility of 'teamwork' in the workplace to how current management styles really only make everyone walk on eggshells and distance them from the actual goals and purpose of their work. Amazing stuff... and totally making me want to be more hands-on, less cubicle-farmer in my new job hunt. Recommended reading for anyone considering a career re-vamp.


-Speaking of jobs... I've officially hit a wall. I've applied for jobs I'm qualified for in cities we don't want to live in. I've applied for jobs I'm seemingly well qualified for in places we want to live. I got a phone interview for a job in Chicago, but it wasn't quite as-advertised so that ended up being a no-go. I got a "Thanks, but no Thanks" letter from a job I was sure I fit the bill for with the government. I'm not sure what anyone wants anymore and I'm starting to think my only viable career options will be in my previous field, the one I don't want to do anymore. BAH!


-Lastly, I've been doing loads better on scheduling creative time for myself. I am making a quilt people. A QUILT. And the only other thing I've sewn was a needle case for my knitting stuff. I'll post photos soon of the finished quilt but I'm amazed by how this little change has lightened my mood, recharged my creative stores and increased my feeling of purpose. Yes, a quilt has upped my feeling of purpose. When you are a SAHW your days consist of laundry, dishes, cooking and vacuuming and then thinking you are still being lazy because the house doesn't always look just so. Seeing the fruits of my labor, having Swiss come home and be proud of what I've created, getting the satisfaction of actually doing something I've wanted to do for years and have success. It's awesome. And I'm really proud of what I've made. So, yeah, consider this a PSA for taking time to do the things that matter to you. Not just the stuff you are supposed to do.


-Hope you all have a super stellar weekend! The hubs and I are going to a movie tonight (Robin Hood=nummy Russell Crowe) and tomorrow we are having a good friend over for resume building and dinner. Aaah, the joys of retirement and ETS-ing from the Army! Happy weekending everyone!

The perils of the interwebz.

I don't know if I told y'all... but Swiss has redirected his post-Army job finding focus to (mostly) one specific job. It is a job he should be easily able to land and one that has positions all across this great wide nation. Because variety is the spice of life. And choices are like crack to military families, am I right?

Anyway, yes, choices! So many! I spent most of last week researching states, cities, real estate, cost of living indexes, crime rates, city web-sites, high schools, you name it. It was useful information (if not a teensey bit OCD) and helped us narrow down our choices (CRACK!!! We have choices!?!?!?!?! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!). Ahem, sorry. We narrowed down our choices to 8 positions/cities from the current list and now Swiss is in the process of rounding up all the paperwork he needs to apply.

What did I do in the mean time? Why, of course I looked up houses in the cities we chose. Because I'm a SAHW and have nothing better to do. And guess what y'all. I found our dream house. And you know what? Now it is ALL either of us can think about. CURSE YOU INTERWEBZ AND MLS! Honest to goodness, we have been talking about it ever since we saw it, where we would put the couch, what color we would paint the bedroom, if and where we would build an outdoor run for Fletcher replete with doggie door. Yeah, it is sad. Did I mention it sits on well over 50 acres? Did I mention it has a large stream? And a sauna? And an outdoor fireplace? And a guest cabin? Swoon...

Anyway, I mostly want to tell you all to BEWARE of the interwebz. When next you find yourself moving somewhere new... don't go house hunting online until you are sure you are moving there. Otherwise the web will lure you in and poison your mind with picturesque homes in the woods and fireplaces and real estate p0rn. Be strong! Don't be weak like us. RESIST THE TEMPTATION!!!

Otherwise you too will spend your weekends drooling over a house that isn't yours in a state you aren't even sure you are moving to and trying to figure out how to afford it when neither of you have jobs yet. Trust me on this one.

And like, stuff.

Blargh. So with the new change of no change, I'm trying to re-evaluate our home life and my day to day. I was all ready to upend everything for Kid A's arrival and now that we don't have to... I'm thinking maybe I should anyway. Did that make any sense at all?

Like working out. Which I have not done in AGES. I finally found my fave workout book "New Rules for Lifting for Women" (thanks Amy!). Yes, its been 4 months since we moved in and I just found it this morning. Because why would a book be in with the other books? It absolutely should be in a giant 100 lb. box of weight plates. Which, BTW, totally reinforces my resolution to do our next move DITY-style. Anyway, I am back on track and have all sorts of motivation to get fit again. All I have to do is pump up the exercise ball and get Swiss to find a new home for the Army gear that has crept in like kudzu and taken over the workout room.

And being better about doing creative things. Because Facebook isn't creative. Neither is surfing the web or 3 consecutive hours of House Hunters International. Painting is. Drawing is. Quilting is (even though it involves waaaaaay more math than I'm comfortable with- blech!). Photography is. So I am promising to set aside time each day- and actually use it- do be creative and channel my inner artist.

The secondary benefit (I hope) to all of this will be making me feel less like a caged animal and more a happy housewife. I've started feeling stagnant and crunchy. I'm a teensey bit more irritable and more easily annoyed. And that is just silly, because what on earth do I have to be annoyed about? I have the best husband (though, like any real, live human being he has his issues) in the world who I am madly in love with, I don't have to work and we still don't have to worry about money, we are healthy, I have wonderful friends and family and yeah- I need to get some perspective and take advantage of the time I have to do the things I want. And that should make me on happy camper.

Anyway, that is my challenge to myself. Start lifting again, and make being creative a priority. So, with that, I'm off to sew. And work on that quilting math. Do you think they have tutors for that???

Oh, never mind.

And just like that, P (Swiss' ex-wife) changes her mind. She just can't let her baby go. Even though he's in some pretty serious trouble, is failing multiple classes, won't listen to her and scores of other things I won't talk about here.

All the work, all the effort, all the willingness to uproot our entire lives. All the time, all the planning, all the angst. For nothing.

I am caught somewhere between relief (because life will stay sane and relatively care-free) and angry (because this ISN'T what is best for Kid A and we ALL know it). I am mad that we got jerked around. I am mad that I know she will do this again when things get rough. And I am mad I wasted all that time. I am mad that we somehow still get the bad guy moniker even though we were willing to change everything for him. Because we were going to be strict, have rules, BE PARENTS.

Mostly, I am over this dysfunctional, overly dramatic, short-sighted, selfish, manipulative, fair-weathered off-shoot of our family. I hate how much control they exert over our lives, I hate how we always end up jumping through their hoops, and how we will always do it- because a child shouldn't get lost in the shuffle of principles and defiance.

So yeah, never mind all that stuff about Kid A and being a mom and reinventing our family, our home and our lifestyle. Sorry to have bothered you with it all. I suppose I should have known better...

Distractions.

So, this weekend we have stuff planned! With other Army couples! Like, hanging out and BBQs and going to lunch! HOORAY!

And in case you were wondering, yes, I am totally welcoming the distraction from thinking about wether or not I'm going to be a failure as a parent and precisely how we are going to get Kid A back on track. But I digress.

Yes, Army Friends! In all this time I've been with Swiss, our living apart hasn't really helped us foster Army Friends. Sure, we went to social functions with co-workers, sure we stopped by his ROTC boss' house for a beer or two now and again... but we really haven't been able to cultivate the kind of friends who you have BBQs with and hang out with regularly. Finally, we have.

I find this process, the one of finding folks you want to hang out with outside of work, to be utterly fascinating. We've all heard of (or maybe lived) the horror stories of folks that seem cool but are actually crazy and then won't leave you alone and you have to sneak around just to hang out with other people. Not fun. And, I think, when you get older and have your friends established, it makes it harder to reshuffle and make room for someone new... especially when the ones you have are already so amazing. Am I wrong?

I've also found it interesting that the hubs has asked me why I'm so hesitant to make friends here, and instead choose to rely on my old (I say that lovingly and with no implication of age) friends and internet buddies for banter, consolation, and general discussion. My response to him was twofold: First, I've always been- in my natural state- one of the girls who doesn't have a TON of friends. I have superficial acquaintances, a couple of friends, and just a small handful of folks who reside in my inner circle. So I never have had the huge drive to be Miss Popularity and be doing coffees and lunch dates and what-have-you with just anyone. I already have the awesomest friends, thankyouverymuch. Second, cultivating friendships is HARD. It takes time and it is a delicate process to navigate. With my old friend and my internet buddies, it is just EASIER. We've already done that stuff- so we can get on with the fun stuff like a night of pedicures, Indian Food and movies (Hi Shari!), or a day at the pool with the kids and a BBQ on the new deck (Hi Emily!), or hanging out on the kitchen counter or deck drinking wine and eating cheese laughing at how awesome her kids are (Hi Val!) or watching copious amounts of basketball while eating Chipotle after a day of shopping for new shoes, a new kitchen and David Bromstad approved lighting fixtures (Hi Beth! MISS YOU!!!).

Also, the beauty of the internet friendships I've built over the past few years, is that all that awkward stuff has already been covered. We've gotten to know one another over time, we've shared incredibly stories via blogs or networks, we've become a part of each other's lives. So now, when we do actually get to hang out in real life, it's like we skipped dates 1-7 and are already comfortable hanging out. (Thanks Amy, for that super analogy, and yes, hanging out with you was totally like date 8, so glad we did it!) This is why I never had any hesitation when a few internet MilSpouses wanted to get together for a weekend, I already felt like I knew them. And this is how I was able to add another amazing, talented, wonderful gal into my inner circle of bestest friends (Hi Brittany! Love ya!) But, again, I digress.

The point is, making new friends at new posts isn't ever easy. It isn't easy to identify the folks that you think you will want to hang out with. It isn't always easy to gauge how interested those folks are in making new friends or welcoming a new couple into the fold. There is a certain leap of faith you must make, a certain amount of risk you accept, and hopefully after a night of BBQ and beers and the Pioneer Woman's BBQ jalapeno poppers (my contribution to the night's festivities), you are still willing to spend a few hours of your weekend with these folks. And, if a good friend is the end result? Those risks are well worth it.

So, here's to new friends and making the best of a PCS. And to BBQ. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

Now, for the fun part of getting a 15 year old.

Redecorating!!! *snort*

Of course this isn't the only part that will be fun... but it is a big deal to me for Kid A to come down here to a HOME. Not just a spare room with spare stuff dressed up a his new room. I want it to be his, to be cool, to be welcoming, and most importantly to make him feel like he is wanted here. I know bedspreads and lamps won't do that alone, but I know no one has really done something like this for him before, so I'm hoping it goes a long way to helping him settle in and feel like he is a part of our family.

So, with that, I have pulled together some ideas from my ever loved IKEA that I think say "Welcome Teenage Boy!" as well as giving it a dose of cool, modern, funky style that a midwestern teenager who is ALL about skating might not be adverse to. Also, they all come in at right around $100. Score!

What? I am a stay at home wife. I spend waaaaaay too much time on the internet because I am bored and as Beth can attest, these idea boards are pretty much par for the course with me. I had 12 for my house when I bought it and 5 for our wedding. I'm visual folks. Can't be helped.

Aaaaanyway, here are the three ideas I have. The kids loves black. I get that, but also, he needs to be introduced to my best friend Roy G Biv. So I tried to put in shots of color and, hopefully, avoid a room that is just a pit of black dispair. Also, he could used some culture/exposure to new things and I'm hoping to help him see that there are cool things in the world that aren't made by DG and Vans and whatever else the skater kids are wearing these days.

So, without further adieu, here are the 3 rooms I've come up with. I hear some of your shouts that he should get to choose his room and theoretically I agree with you, but I really, really want him to walk in the door when we bring him home to a fully furnished, decorated, kick-ass room. Sue me.

First, choice A. This is the blackest room but I am totally in love with the map of NYC and that the duvet cover works with the blue pillows and red accents to be graphic and hip and sorta skater-y all at the same time.

Second choice B. I heart this duvet and it reminds me of a hoodie I bought him for Christmas and he loved. Still graphic and hip but a lot more color and a lot more pattern. Also, I love green and orange together, don't you?

Last but not least, choice C. This one is a bit safer, the duvet is pretty tame and the colors all come from the numbery print at the bottom. I think this one would work well but isn't quite as hip as I would like. Because it is all about me, right?

Okay, so now I need your votes. PLEASE! Pick A, B, or C and maybe throw in your 2nd choice too for good measure. Or any suggestions you have for mixing up the choices, that would be awesomesauce too. Remember: 15 year old midwestern skater kid who loves black and angsty teen metal music but who will also sing along to Viva la Vida by Coldplay when in the car with me.

THANK YOU!!! :)

Buckle up kids, its gonna be a bumpy ride.

So, based on the phone calls that have been going on in the past few days, I'm about 99.8% sure Kid A will be residing with us by the 4th of July. (Why the 4th of July you ask? Well, he has to do summer school since he's all but failed math already.) Honestly, my mind is reeling. The screenplay for what is going on in my head would read something like this:

Tucker ( alternately pacing around the house and blogging while eating chocolate and sneaking sips of a Makers Mark & Diet Coke):

Oh my God. I'm not old enough to have a 15 year old. Shit.
I mean, most days we can barely keep our acts together, and now we're responsible for this kid who needs so much help and direction and... OH MY GOD THIS IS GOING TO BE HARD!
I'm going to have to hide the liquor. Which sucks because it was so convenient in our cute little bar. Boo.
And no more loud sex (was that TMI?). And no more running around the house in underwear or a towel. Must get a new robe.
Oh, crap. Homework. I thought I finished that 10 years ago. And Math. Ugh. We need to get him a tutor.
But hey, I'll have someone to play Guitar Hero with! And he is a good egg with a great sense of humor.
Oh Lord, I forgot about the hygiene. What is it with teenage boys that make them so adverse to smelling good and not having fungus growing in their teeth? I don't wanna argue about toothbrushing. Really, really.
But, I do get to go to IKEA to pick out some nice stuff to make his room feel homey because that is important and I want him to know that he has a home and we care and he isn't an inconvenience.
Even though he really is.
God, please don't strike me down with lightening for that last one. I'm just being honest. I promise I'll never do anything to make him think that. Promise.
*Sigh* And then there will be the joys of the balancing act between Swiss who, though I love and adore him, tends to take the more militaristic parenting stance (that's how he was raised after all) and me who is more talk-and-hug-it-out. Gah. We aren't even on the same parenting style page. That isn't good.
Oh yeah, I'll get to start up my own shuttle company. Because he ain't getting to drive until he proves we can trust him.
But he gives great hugs and it means the world to me when he tells me he loves me or calls me Mom (which is a TOTAL trip, BTW) and when he talks to his Dad and asks how I am doing.
Though Fletcher is going lurve him. Oh good Lord, those two could seriously burn each other out. That is a good thing on two fronts.
And it would be fun to watch him play football or soccer and root from the stands, watch him go to prom, graduate... I cannot possibly imagine how incredible it will feel when he finally comes around and turns into the human being I (we) always knew he could be.
But mostly, am I ready for this?

Tucker then collapses on the sofa clutching her chocolate and drink, losing herself in hours of HGTV/Food Network to quiet her mind.

End scene.

So yes, this is going to be a monstrous change. Obvs Swiss and I have a metric TON to talk about, house rules to set, expectations of one another, signs we can use to let each other know when they need to re-evaulate, a house to teen-proof, the list goes on. Plus there will be multiple trips back home to get everything taken care of. And there goes the trip we had planned to Banff this summer. But then again, I guess this isn't all about me and us anymore.

Wow. This insta-family business is sort of overwhelming.

What it means to be a MilSpouse.

Here's the thing... there are times I identify SO strongly with fellow MilSpouses, I mean, we are all going through the same thing and we are united by our spouse's service and we sacrifice for our country and for people we'll never meet, we struggle with the same issues and we battle deployment gremlins of all sorts together- sometimes side-by-side. But there are also times when I feel more like we are a band of ships passing in the night. Sometimes I feel distant, sometimes I get caught up in envy or snark, sometimes I just don't feel like I'm one of the crowd. Those times, I feel like an outsider. Of course all of the things I listed above still hold true, but each of our experiences are so incredibly, amazingly unique... we are cut from different cloths, we are assigned to different units, different FRG's (or what-have-you), we cope differently, we react differently, we reintegrate differently... we are fingerprints. We are united because we all have them, but we are inherently different. No two MilSpouses are the same. So how united can we really be?

This is both the best thing about MilSpouses and the most difficult thing, for me.

I read other blogs, meet other spouses, hear the tales, and am struck by how astoundingly different our experiences are. And sometimes I get jealous. Sometimes I feel inadequate. Others I am knocked on my heels because the power this military life has over every aspect of our futures. Sometimes I get angry at how flippant and horrible some MilSpouses can be. I can get angry when all they do is blame the military for their woes or don't have to endure deployments. I can get venomously green with jealousy of those who "only" have to deploy to Haiti or get their deployments cut short, find themselves on Rear D or assigned to non-deploying units. I can get sad because life isn't fair already and losing your 20-something husband to a war we may never win makes it infinitely and unfairly harder. And sometimes I feel the weight of guilt because my husband came home, because his deployment (this time) was easy and relatively safe and we got to talk almost nightly. Other times I can't believe that this is the life we are leading (albeit for only a few more months now). And every once in a while, I feel like I can't relate to most any MilSpouses... I feel like a fish out of water who is only here because life has a sick sense of humor and thinks it is funny that I am a stay a home Army wife with no job, no friends (at Fort X), and no life. And then I realize that there are probably a lot of MilSpouses who feel all of these things sometimes too.

Full circle, right?

I'm not sure what my point is. Maybe that being a MilSpouse isn't a static thing, nor does it have any definition beyond being married into the military, which I think is much less dramatic and technical that we'd all like to think. Technically speaking, you get to wave the MilSpouse flag if you are the FRG Leader, the Base Commander's Wife, the newbie PFC's wife, or the skanky slut-bag who is out scheming and spending and cheating during deployments. Frankly, I don't like it (mostly because that means I share something with Swiss' ex-wife, and I'd rather not), but it is true... there is no formal code of conduct, we aren't held to a standard like our spouses are, we don't get Article 15's when we mess up. We just are. A tribe of spouses under the great big flag of the DoD no matter how we act, how we get by, what our spouses do, or how horrible a deployment may be... and we are united wether our spouses come home or not... we are united wether they deploy or not, wether they are heroes or not, wether they are Generals or Privates or retired.

Maybe that's the point. We aren't all supposed to experience the same things, maybe that makes our network and our bond stronger... we can pull from each other's experiences without having to live them ourselves. Maybe the point is that any one of us can read blogs like hers and get the perspective we might need, that we can remember how this experience is bigger than just our own. That we can experience all (mostly) aspects of MilSpouse life without living it. We can know the warning signs and struggles of reintegration even if ours went smoothly. We can try to understand the difficulty of being pregnant or a single mom during a deployment or having a wounded husband, we can learn about struggles with education goals, employment, identity, relocation, solitude, understanding (or lack thereof), family, finances, you name it without experiencing them ourselves. And even better, if we are experiencing these things first-hand, we have a shoulder, an understanding glance, a kind comment, a touchstone, to help us through.

All because we are MilSpouses, together, for better or worse.

Like, whoa.

So sometimes it take a minute or two (and by minute I mean day) for things to really sink in with me. This is usually why I come up with perfectly witty and cutting come-backs about 24 hours after the fact. I'm not slow... it just takes a bit for me to process the things I didn't see coming. But I digress.

Its the Kid A thing that is finally sinking in. Of course it still isn't set in stone... not even close for that matter... but I just realized how awesome (awesome as in holy-hell) of an effect this will have on our life and our choices. I mean, now we have to pick a house because it is in a good school district, not because we just love it. We have to take school commutes into account. We have to up the requirements on a house from 3 bedrooms to 4... plus another bathroom because teenage boys are gross (I say that with love and utter honesty). We have to think about getting a beater car for when he gets his license. And the skyrocketing insurance costs. We have to worry about girlfriends and god-forbid him knocking someone up. We have to consider all this other stuff now... not to mention the mind-numbing responsibility of moulding him into an adult we can all be proud of.

And to be honest? I'm not sure how I feel about it. Overwhelmed? Scared? Intimidated? A teensey bit annoyed (that is the selfish only child coming out)?

Of course we will do the right thing and make our choices with him and his needs in mind. But you know, I was really digging the idea of living in a remote corner of town with quiet and solitude and a cozy house that was all serene and quiet and usually looking pulled-together and lovely. I'm no fool- that picture doesn't meld well with a teenage boy and all raising a kid entails. I have no doubt that we will find the happy medium that will work for all of us. But wow... this change is going to be (if it ever happens) one of those moments in life where everything changes. Life will be defined, at least until he graduates, in terms of BKA and AKA. You know, before Kid A and after Kid A. le sigh.

Anyway, as you can tell I'm relatively pre-occupied with this newest development in our life. We are still on vacation visiting family and I am SO ready to get home to our own bed and I'll even admit that I miss Fort X a little bit. But for tonight, I get to see a dear friend and catch up over wine and watch our husbands bond over marrying such weird women.

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

Swiss got a call from his ex the other day. That usually isn't a good thing, in fact, it is usually a miserable, horrible, no-good, very bad thing. But, against all odds, it was a 'good' phone call. One I never thought we would get...

She told us (him) that she thought Kid A might be better off with us.    *gasp*

This is very different from the previous calls in regards to this matter... those were more of the "I can't handle this anymore- you take him, I don't want him" type. This was genuine concern for how he is going to grow up and that troubles that he might find (or might have already found). A recognition that where he's at might not be the best place for him and that we might be able to offer him something she and her fiance can't. Not better or worse, just different. And maybe all Kid A really needs is a big fat dose of something different (with a large helping of rules to boot).

Now, all of this must be taken with grains of salt the size of your head. Things change quickly with this cast of characters and we thought it best for Kid A to finish out the school year where he is at so that means there is time for moods to change and opinions to reverse. And there are the mountains of legal documents and court dates that will inevitably come, so this isn't something that can (or should) happen over night. There are conversations about HOW this will happen and when and laying out ground rules for everyone involved. It will take a bit of time before all the dust settles on this newest chapter.

And can I just tell you how glad I am we have a few months to figure this out? I mean, talk about a change in lifestyle for us. WOW. Now, please don't take that statement to mean that I'm all self-centered and thinking this is all about me and Swiss. It isn't. It is about Kid A and doing what is best for him at this, arguably, most critical junction in his life. But going from newlywed/newly reunited love-birds living in our own little insulated bubble populated with only our dog and the TV/Internet to responsible parents doing homework and going to soccer games and hosting teenage boys at the house for Guitar Hero or whatever they play now hang outs. Goo! THAT is a huge change no matter which way you slice it.

I am part giddy and part angsty and nervous. Kid A and I have a great relationship and I am excited about the prospect of Swiss and I getting him squared away and helping him get on track. Part of me hopes that a few years with us will save everyone with a stake in this a lot of drama and heartache down the road. But I am scared. Because there will be fights and we will get to be the bad guys and there will be hours of homework and snooping to ensure he isn't lying and- yeah. Wow. A totally different lifestyle.

But like I said, we are a few months away from all this and, again, there is a huge possibility that all of this will fall through. But I find myself thinking where will his room be?, will he like the weird things I cook?, how will we get him to school in the morning?, which school will he go to?, how will he like living on a military post?, and how long will it be bad before it gets better? But, mostly, I find myself wondering if I will be able to be a good mom. I just hope the answer is yes.

Movielicious.

ZOMG. So excited!!! Can you hear me "Squeeeeeee!"-ing? Oh, you must watch this trailer if you like SATC even the teensiest amount. And the bit right at the end??? *GASP!* You will see who shows up and then you will freak the heck out like I did. You know, only if you care about this stuff. AND I DO!!!

And anyone who needs a movie buddy to go see this (ahem, not that I am talking about myself AT ALL) just let me know! :) Woot!

My bad.

Ugh- so I promise I haven't gone AWOL. I mean, there are 4 unfinished blog posts in my queue as I type this. Somehow none of them ever got finished... some were too personal, some were too bitchy (re: family), and some I just couldn't get off the ground. Ah well, it happens to all of us I suppose!

Things here have been a not-so-wonderful shade of dramarific... things are swell with Swiss & I, but there have been family issues that have been of the "push my buttons" sort. But -I think- we have worked them all out and we leave tomorrow on a 2-ish week road trip of the south-eastern nether-regions of our country.  There will be beaches, the consumption of seafood and a couple of stops in places I've never been before (New Orleans! Charleston! Memphis!), as well as a few I've known and loved before (Pensacola! Savannah! The Smokey Mountains! Nashville!). I'm looking forward to getting away with the husband and the puppy and spend some time with his family. It will be interesting for sure.

And a side note to our trip and any future pet-assisted trips you might be planning: DO NOT let your more by-the-seat-of-your-pants travel planning hubby (even if he has been suspiciously successful with this method in the past) lovingly shame you out of planning 3+ weeks ahead. YOU HAVE NO IDEA how hard it was to find a hotel in some cities that a) took dogs and b) weren't already booked or ridonkulously expensive. Anal-retentitive always wins in these cases. ALWAYS. And you can cite me on that!

Otherwise we've been moving along on the USS Reintegration. Sure, we have our small hiccups, but mostly things have been good. We talk, we have our few spats, and then we are back to normal. It is swell. Though it has been an adjustment (as I knew it would) from the blissful, bicker-free existence we had post-wedding/honeymoon and pre-deployment. I think that, more than anything, has been the readjustment for us... in a good way. We are normal and we aren't living in a fairy tale (close, though!) and we have normal couple things to work through. Happily, the most stressful part of our relationship is when Fletcher wants/needs to get up every morning and neither of us want to do it. And that ain't too shabby!

Today we got to spend the day at the nice outdoor recreation area on post for a Battalion Organizational Day. Rumor has it there will be a mechanical bull and free food. Now, if there was free beer I would easily be able to say our 'work' Friday is better than yours. Followed with a "nana-nana-boo-boo!" because deep down I'm an 8 year old. But I digress. Sometimes it still trips me out, living on post... yesterday I dropped Swiss off (and picked him up) at a Dining In event and 4 times drove past a unit getting combat equipment handed out to them. I forget that even though Swiss's unit is home, other units are still leaving nearly daily. I forget that there are spouses here gearing up for what we just finished. I hate that I forget that. I hate how insular life can be even on an Army post. You know... it isn't our unit...

But I will write more about that later. Perhaps from a beach somewhere in South Carolina? I have loads I want to say, I just need to get myself in the right head-space to do it. Anyway, there's your update and a real-live blog post not advocating the culling of dumb Americans. Happy Friday Everyone! :)

Oh, America.

What are we going to do with you? Come to think of it, what are we going to do with this whole damned planet?

Now, before I launch into what will surely be an incendiary and contentious blog post (especially since I'm generally Liberal Lite in my circle of blogger peeps, or as I prefer to be known, the Gateway Drug of Liberal MilSpouses), I must give you context. So here it is: Swiss and I have, lately, been discussing at length the environmental, population, water, etc issues plaguing our planet- spurred on by the latest water-centric issue of National Geographic, the Life series on Discovery, and -oddly enough- Superfreakonomics by Stephen Levitt (a must read for sure)... not to mention my 4 years getting all geeked up about ecosystems and global warming and keystone species while in college (Viva Bel-wah!).

So, there have been discussions in the Tucker & Swiss household about how to save the polar bears and what to do in order to slow the increased rate of climate change (Yes, we can debate the whys, ifs, hows, and wheres of global warming for sure- but let's save that for another date, okay? And read Superfreakonomics as homework before we do.) and what/who should bear the burden of making it right. We discussed the culling of deer populations when they get 'undesirably' large and then (over wine, natch) segued into China's regulation of procreation and naturally (some would say) took that to culling people from all walks of life- Not Swiss and I of course! Nor you, dear readers!- in order to get the 'undesirably' large human population under control. Of course this is morally repugnant, but it is also a fair point. Deer and polar bears haven't done anything to make the world the way it currently is- we humans have. So- ergo- we should be the ones to pay. And of course we never will because we run the world with bleeding hearts for all humankind and with policies generally geared toward only looking out for our own human race.

But--- in my sick, twisted, mad scientist mind, I started to think about who we would cull. Sick, I know. But really- who? What countries? What proportions? Would there be criteria? Ah, but then I stumbled upon this article somewhere on Facebook and lo-and-behold I found who we should be culling. Take a minute and read the article... especially the part at the end... I will wait.

Done yet?               Okay.

Yes, THOSE are the people we should be culling. Sorry. I know it is crass to say- but... REALLY? I want to know WHY you wouldn't want to get the person who wrote this gem (in reference to the Bible) out of the gene pool: "These apostles need to get a clue and hire a ghost writer. Even Miley Cyrus's manager was smart enough to do that." I am stupefied and insulted... and I'm not even that religious! Or what about the people who criticize the writing style in The Diary of Anne Frank... uh- sorry to break it to y'all- she was a little girl, being hidden from Nazis in an attic writing in her diary. IN REAL LIFE. And the ones who chastise (admittedly, my favorite book) To Kill a Mockingbird as "Simply put, this is a novel about racism written for people who received their knowledge about racism from this book!" Wha? That didn't even make sense... and one tiny little thing... I would encourage you to remember that this book was written in the 60's. Not 2010. So it really was a bigfuckingdeal back in its day- and THAT is why it is a classic.

But this one tickles my scientific heart to no end. On Darwin's The Origin of Species "This book is a very interesting work of fiction. Its too bad that so many people take it seriously, though. Darwin had a great imagination, but with no scientific evidence to support it, its just a fable. I can't believe people are so gullible as to believe the things written in here. I'm judging it as a work of fiction. Its imaginative, but its lacking. One star." I would argue, that this individual should perhaps stop by his local library and read every science text written, then read this article about the (notoriously anti-evolution) Vatican. Fable my ass, Homeslice. And then I would encourage this person to get on the evolutionary-Darwinian train and ride it all the way into extinction.

See, these are the people that suck the life out of my faith in humanity and the power of human intelligence. These are the folks who, against all odds, still survive- nee, thrive- in this world despite their alarming lack of mental fortitude and intellect. And, sadly, I would counter that folks like these ain't making any situation we, as a world, find ourselves in any better. Because if you sit down to read Charlotte's Web and come away with this "Even as a child I found the plot very far-fetched. It is because of this horrid book that I eat sausage every morning and tell my dad to kill every spider I see. It is a traumatic, coma-enducing story that has changed my life forever. In conclusion I feel no one should be put through such torture and this book should be banned from every school, library, and bookstore in the Milky Way."? Well, I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't prefer it if you stopped using up all the oxygen and drinking all the water and slowly killing off those cuddly (not really) polar bears, thankyouverymuch.

So, sadly, yes... indeed these fabled 1 star reviews do leave me, as the article's author Jeanette DeMain said they would, "profoundly disheartened and pessimistic about the continued existence of humankind."...and more and more in favor of some good old fashioned culling. Evil, I know. But its the less threatening brand of evil that is just a teensey bit endearing... right???

No Way!

Okay- this one will be a quickie because I'm applying for jobs like insane this morning. I just want to thank all 5 of you who voted for me on the MilBloggies. I feel so loved! Should any of you want to toss in another nomination you can go here: vote for me! :) I'm not gunning for the top (that should go to LeftFace IMHO: VOTE FOR LEFTFACE HERE!) so mostly I wanted to say thanks to those of you who have already voted for me! THANKS YOU!!!

And while you are there take a look around and nominate some of the other super cool MilSpouse blogs out there: My Army Wife Life, Proud Liberal Army Wife and there are a bunch more, but check it out for yourself and toss us some nominations!

What do you mean we get to choose?

Yes, the job applications are flying around our house like mad and it is raining resumes. Swiss is having A LOT more luck finding suitable jobs to apply for, but I'm doing my best to think outside the box... you wouldn't believe some of the jobs I am applying for! But the ancillary issue to all of this applying and submitting is choosing where to live. Goo- what a decision!

Yes- we get to choose. And not from a list of 4 Army-approved options. We are part HALLELUJAH! and part Holy Hell, we live in a HUGE country... how are we going to do this? It is great to have this much control over our lives, but it is also so very strange to think about moving someplace new, randomly (sorta) picking places that we think would be great to live in. Also, we are used to these military moves which are all pretty non-threatening: You know you have a built in support system, you know there will be a swell commissary, a job, a PX, and mostly, you are comforted by the tidy little bubble that living on Post affords you. It is a known entity, it is easy to adjust to, and really, how different can it be from the last Post you were stationed at?

But man, the real world is scary. There are towns that seem great but aren't all they are cracked up to be- and of course we won't know that until we accept jobs and move there. Fah. There are town that we might dismiss but are really pretty great but we will never know because they look funny on the maps in the atlas. There are towns/cities close to the ones we love, there are ones on either coast. There are big ones and tiny ones and Mormon ones and Hippie ones and Southern ones and Conservatives ones (Liberal ones too).

It all feels so arbitrary- looking at an atlas, Wikipedia, city/town web sites, flickr photos, whatever we can find to somehow determine wether or not it would be a good place to settle down. Without actually going there. Of course there will be the (hopefully) interviews wherein we would actually get to be Boots on the Ground in the cities on the list. But right now, as we shuffle through lists of cities with open jobs... it feels more like a bad game of drunken pin the tail on the donkey. And you know that never ends well.

Anyway, I just think it is so funny that way back when I was a single lady (yeah, you've got the song in your head now too- bonus points if you do the dance!) a prospect like this was exhillerating.... now, when two of us have to find jobs and we have a family (wow- when did that happen?) to think about, a dog who needs a big yard, a lifestyle that doesn't romanticize schmancy apartment loft living, insane commutes or ridiculous work hours... I find it intimidating and exhausting.

I know there is time yet, and going in for interviews will give us a chance to really get the vibe of the towns/cities. That will make all the difference in the world... but when a job posting with 18 different cities you think you would like makes you narrow it down to 4? Bring me some more wine!!!

Job applications are a mother.

Mothereffer if you ask me. Big, stinky, sweaty, hairy mothereffer. I cannot tell you how damned frustrating this process is. Actually, I am going to... I am going to tell you exactly what it is about this process that is driving me MAD.

And yes, this is my blog and I'll write about whatever I want! *hmmph*

Just teasing!!! Well, sort of... ;)

Anyway, here's the deal. I am frustrated that I have to have 2 (plus) totally dissimilar resumes going at once. And that each one needs tweaking with EVERY application. I hate trying to translate my super specific experience into something a non-laboratorian would understand. IT IS HARD. And it is exactly what the hubs is trying to deal with dumbing down translating his military experience into civilian terms. Funny. And totally un-fun.

I also hate that simply having a well formed resume isn't enough. I loathe the online forms that you invariably have to fill out- and of course each site is totally different which means you spend hours upon hours re-typing your education and experience and skills and man, it is a buzzkill. I mean, I'm 100% okay with the USA jobs format because you can use those buggers to apply for a plethora of federal jobs, so yay on that. HOWEVER, I just got done putting the final job-specific touches on my resume for a lab job in Illinois and went to the site's application page... Yay! Upload your resume! And what does it do? It's program sifts through your uploaded Word document and auto-fills the information into their wonky online format. And you know what? IT DOES IT WRONG. I spent an HOUR going back through a perfectly done resume fixing all the mistakes the program made. And there were a ton. Awesomesauce.

Lastly, I loathe that a simple application process invariably turns into a hot mess of paperwork, documentation and frustration. The job hunting and applying process is arduous enough that the road blocks some employers throw up are enough to straight up Sink Your Battleship. I can't tell you how many times I've gotten so frustrated I've had to walk away and just DO ANYTHING ELSE but applications. Should it really be that way? I suppose some will argue that it is a way to weed out the unserious folks, cut the riff-raff off the top and ensure that you are getting the ideal candidates. I get that- but do you really want to toe the line of making the process so ridiculous that even the most qualified folks throw their hands up in disgust.

I think, mostly, I am just frustrated by having to sell myself harder than a dime hooker on a Monday (that is a SuperFreakonomics reference BTW) fully knowing the odds of me landing a gig is lower than low. I know this is mostly the norm, but regardless, it isn't fun. Boo. Anyway, that is my rant. I'll suck it up and hit is up again in the morning. I've got 3 gub'ment jobs to apply for! Wish me luck folks!