Small Things

How a Navy spouse club can be like Big Love

One of the spouses in my club has a two week old baby and came down with a fever this weekend. As she has two older kids, and our husbands are deployed, she could use a little help, so another spouse and I picked up her kids the last two days so she could rest with the baby and get well. Yesterday we took them all to the Zoo.

As I have three kids, and my friend has one, we wound up with 6 kids in all. It's really surprising how often we fill up every seat in my 8 passenger Outlook. We put the youngest two in a double stroller, and headed straight to the Children's Zoo, where there's a new playground, kid-sized picnic tables, and a petting zoo. It is quite a feat to keep tabs on all of them in a crowd (Labor Day weekend is probably not the best time to take a group of children to the San Diego Zoo), but we didn't lose any of them, and that is the number one goal, after all.

As we were shepherding the kids around, passing out drinks and snacks, yelling at them to walk, to stop picking flowers, to wait for us, etc., my friend commented that she and I might look like a pair of mormon-type moms with all our kids. I noticed she was in a dress, I was in a denim skirt with sneakers, we both had our hair up, and both daughters had dresses on, too. I grinned and said we made good sister-wives. She doesn't watch HBO, so I had to explain about Big Love.

The illusion only went so far, as at one point we both smelled freshly brewed coffee, and we are both addicts. She said we might have to get some. But then I noticed a stand selling beer, and half-fun-full-earnest suggested we get that instead. A little while later we settled our crew on a log bench at Dr. Zoolittle's Science Show, and my friend handed me a Corona with lime, shattering the mormon-like image. One beer got kicked over, which was totally predictable yet unavoidable. I eventually poured the remaining beer into a kids cup with a lid and one of those whistly-straws. (Don't worry, we did not confuse it with the kids' drinks.)

In the end, I decided that life with six kids definitely is easier with more than one mom. But while having a sister-wife might be handy during times like deployment, I think I can live with having Navy spouse friends instead. When times get tough, we team up pretty well.

Marriage via Email

When my cousin David was getting married, I already had 5 years of marriage under my belt, and so he asked me if I had any advice about the key to a good marriage. By then, I had seriously considered that topic before, and I enthusiastically told him, "Communication."

Since I am a Navy wife who is used to frequent separation and long deployments, that answer might seem ironic.

We fortunately live in the electronic age, and I can't pretend that I don't take it for granted most of the time. I can't imagine how life was for wives who waited for letters in the mailbox from their husbands. Just this week, frustrated by an inbox full of retail newsletters and no messages from my husband, I found myself thinking, can't aircraft carriers set up wireless networks already?! Am I naive to hope that maybe the day will soon come?

Maintaining a marriage via email means making the effort to type out your thoughts and feelings, frequently, and carefully, and then be patient while waiting for response.

I say it takes effort, because it takes energy and dedication to remember and articulate all the things you  want to discuss with your husband throughout the day. You have to make time to sit at the computer, often at night, after the kids are in bed, when you are too tired to even find the remote to turn off the TV let alone capitalize or punctuate a sentence.

I say "frequently" because distance is the worst thing for a marriage. My husband and I can be on opposite sides of the world, but we write frequently about what's on our minds and hearts so that we stay close.

I say "carefully" because it is notoriously hard to read emotion in an email, despite emoticons and smileys. Misinterpreting spouses' signals is a common problem in person, let alone in print.

I am pretty good at the "careful" part. I'm always resolving to improve at the "frequent" part. But I'll confess that I am lousy at the "patient" part.

We are not perfect, but I think my husband and I have a pretty healthy and happy email relationship. We've kept it going for six deployments so far. Here are a few tips that work for us:

We don't fight via email. Which is odd, because we are big bicker-ers over day-to-day, trivial things like how much chili powder to put in the chili, how loud the TV should be, or the fastest route to take to get on the interstate. But as deployment nears, the bickering stops. We have only ever had one fight via email, when I was 8 1/2 months pregnant, and I cried for two days. We won't make that mistake again.

We balance laundry-list messages with personal messages. There are always household and financial things to discuss, but if the only message you get in a day is about the bills and the lawn and renewing the car tags, you feel pretty cheated. You have to go over that stuff, but I always like to immediately follow it with a second, thoughtful email about a specific time you missed them that day, or looking forward to doing something special with them, or some sweet and funny things the kids did.

We make each other smile. Or smirk. You gotta have a sense of humor, and do a little e-flirting.

This deployment, I have a Blackberry, which makes it easy for me to send several quick messages per day. But it also means I can obsessively check for replies far too many times a day than I can count. If only my husband could write to me as often as Barnes and Noble does.

What would you see in Harry Potter's mirror?

I can hardly believe how long I've left the blog! The countdown to deployment is always busy, busy but life is settling back down, and as if they knew I needed it, ABC Family is having Harry Potter weekend.

Watching The Sorcerer's Stone tonight, I was fascinated by the Mirror of Erised. Harry wanders into a room to hide and finds a mirror. To use Wikipedia's summary:

On it is inscribed, erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi — which, when reversed and correctly spaced, reads I show not your face but your heart's desire. Harry, upon encountering the Mirror, can see his parents, as well as what appears to be a crowd of relatives; Ron sees himself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain holding the Quidditch Cup (thus revealing his wish to be acknowledged out of the shadow of his highly successful older brothers, as well as his more popular friend, Harry). Dumbledore cautions Harry that the mirror gives neither knowledge nor truth and that men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they see.

I wish I had the book to quote correctly, but Dumbledore says it shows "nothing more or less than your heart's deepest and most desperate desire." And adds that it's not good to waste your life dreaming and forget to live.

I sat and wondered what I would see in the mirror. Would I see myself with a successful writing career? Would I see my children grown and healthy and happy?

If you consider the "desperate" part, that changes things. I think the idea is that it doesn't neccessarily show your true aspirations, or what will truly will make you happy, or your noblest desires.

And suddenly I knew what I would see. I would see my husband coming home after a regular, predictable workday to have dinner and be with us as part of our everyday routine. That is my heart's deepest desperate wish.

Desperate because I know it's not to be. And I've made peace with that. Mostly.

Deepest because I try not to think of that too often. I understand clearly what Dumbledore is saying about wasting away longing for a dream and forgetting to live.

Sigh. J.K. Rowling is a genius.

35 isn't mid-life, it's mid-project

I am turning 35 this month. My husband asked me how I feel about turning 35, and my answer was, "I don't." I don't feel anything about it. Because I really don't think about it. Maybe that's a nice collateral effect of being preoccupied with three small children all the time.

I've discussed birthdays and aging with a few people lately, and I've figured out that I see my life right now as a stage, an era in my life. Having kids at home all the time, being a stay-at-home mom, is hard, and chaotic, and  . . . restrictive in many ways. I absolutely chose this life, and cherish this life, even though I don't always handle it gracefully.

But I also know it is temporary. Fleeting, even. My life will change dramatically when they are all in school for most of the day. When they are all able to do chores, pour drinks, bathe themselves, and are potty-independant, it will be a whole new ballgame. They will still need me . . . but not so constantly, and not so physically. Hopefully a little more cerebrally.

A couple of friends recently talked about coming to terms with reaching our adult goals in our thirties, and then feeling bored, with no major goals around the bend. That's not a problem for me. This job is a temp job, and I even have an end date in sight.

My husband is eligible for retirement from the Navy when we're 42. And even if we have another child, he or she would be school age by then, as well. So while I have no idea where we will be living, or what my husband's job will be, I know that age 42 will be a life-changing door to opportunity to me. Many restrictions lifted. More time for my individual pursuits.

When I've discussed this with my husband, he grins and says, "Who said I'm getting out at 20? That could be be when it just gets interesting!" We'll see. I'm open to discussion, when the time comes. Regardless, there will be a new era, new goals to plan.

For now, I am but halfway through the current plan. Mid-project, still working out the kinks, haven't quite found the balance between my kids needs and my own. Tinkering with a couple new strategies, particularly in the stress-management area.

Boredom is not a problem. I'm OK with 35. It's actually better than 30 was. I've been abundantly blessed with family, and lots of it, which keeps me busy but happy. It's going to be a good birthday.

I think something's calling

I had a long talk with a fellow Navy spouse today, and my heart just filled with . . . recognition. Confirmation of our shared experience. I don't know why, when I have so often told others how important it is to find support among people in the same boat, I continually forget it myself. Why do I have to be hit head over the head to be reminded that we struggle with the same stresses, and obstacles, and pitfalls.

I may manage to keep moving forward, just barely handling my load, but always, always there are women just like me starting the same path, with no answers. Stumbling at the same blocks I did. With no map.

Why are we always, always reinventing the wheel? This is not unchartered territory. Why are we so timid about sharing the load?

I guess I feel like I haven't got all the answers. Not sure that I have any wisdom to share. But I do know a couple things.

1. Knowing in advance that the path we choose is hard, is no reason to give up searching for a way to make it easier.

2. Narrowly focusing on always bearing our own load can prevent us from noticing when another's load is slipping.

I've missed it a couple of times. I can't let myself miss another. Especially not if it's me.

Should the military treat men and women the same?

Interesting article on the AP today: Army mom who reported with kids meets base leaders.

In short, Lisa Pagan is a stay-at-home mom of two kids, who was honorably discharged from the army four years ago, and has been called back to duty. Her husband must travel for his job, she has no one to care for her kids, so she has taken  them with her to her new command to appeal the recall.

There are so many ways to judge this!

As a mom, I think, of course she has to take care of her children, she's been out for four years, they can't take her back away from her kids. And exactly who would take care of them?

As the wife of a naval officer, I think of the many young moms in my husband's past commands who had to prepare "family care plans" for their children before a deployment.

In particular, I remember meeting a young woman at the squadron Christmas party who worked for my husband who was eight months pregnant, single, and who had to deploy with the carrier in several months, and would be sending her 3 month old baby to live with her mother in Puerto Rico. I tried to look un-phased as she told me, nodding sympathetically, just listening. Inside, I was completely horrified. Trying to stop imagining this woman kissing her tiny infant good bye for over six months.

Even men have to come up with these care plans, my husband has helped single dads arrange care for their kids, too, when planning for deployment. It's hard on all kinds of families.

I know well and understand the military's position, that this is what you sign on for, and it's up to you to plan for it.

Though my husband is an officer and doesn't have a contract, he still makes a commitment for a period of time, and if something happened to me, he would still have to deploy with his command. Our wills include a plan for our three kids' care in the event I'm gone and daddy has to deploy.

The article says she is on "individual ready reserve" status, which means she has time left on her original enlistment contract. She's been out for four years, so I can't help but wonder, how long was her contract for? Anything over 4 years sounds ridiculous to me. There must be more to the story. I mean, should the military really be able to own you for that long? A young woman, especially?

I can't help but think that this exact situation is one example of what's wrong with gender "equality." I'm not saying women shouldn't serve in the military. But men and women are not the same. Life is so much more complicated than the t-shirt I remember wearing when I was a little girl in the 70's that said "Anything boys can do, girls can do better."

I just think that we can't just teach our girls that they can do anything they want, they can have it all, and then let them make their choices, just like the boys. Let them begin adulthood making the same commitments, as though there is no difference between a young man and a young woman.

The military tries to act like babies change nothing. Any mom can tell you, having a baby can change, in an instant, every plan you ever had. And there is no such thing as having it all, at least not at the same time. Even outside the military, working women knock themselves out trying to find "balance." Which really equates to choosing, and choosing wisely, what you commit to.

I just wonder, do recruiters really sign women up for 5 year, 6 year, 7 year contracts? Should they be allowed to?

Pretending that there's no difference between men and women, moms and dads, doesn't help anyone, least of all the babies.

I remember learning the term "opportunity cost" in my high school economics class, I had no idea it would be the ruling principle in my life as an adult. Do high schools still teach Home Ec? Seems to me teenage girls would be better prepared for real life as a mom if they taught a class called "Balance."

Back to this young mom's situation, I hope that they decide she is not a good candidate for reactivation. Don't know if that is exactly fair, it certainly isn't equal. Her situation may not even be that unusual. Though her press coverage is certainly unusual.

Opinion, anyone?

If you were hoping to have your ashes scattered from the top of the Matterhorn . . .

Disney is having some nice deals for active duty military and their families right now. At Disneyworld, servicemembers get a free 5-day park hopper pass, and can buy up to 5 more for something like $99. Here in California, Disneyland is offering a 3 day park hopper free, with 5 more 3-day park hoppers available for the price of a 1 day pass.

So I have been looking into Disneyland. We've never been, but we can drive there in a few hours, and I think the kids are a good age for their first trip to Disney. I was checking out the website today, looking for info about ride restrictions, so I can figure out what my preschooler can go on, and on which rides I can hold a toddler. I read the park restrictions, as well, which listed items that are not allowed into the park.

Some highlights:

• Of course no weapons, including nunchucks and brass knuckles
• No bicycles, unicycles, or pogo sticks
• No trailers that require towing by a wheelchair or stroller
• No helmets, hockey sticks, or bows and arrows
• No stinkbombs
• No handcuffs, box cutters, or duct tape
• No cremated remains

I don't know which disappoints me more--no pogo sticks, or no stinkbombs. Come ON, Disney, we're supposed to have FUN!

Football at 9 AM? Bring on the Bloody Marys

We enjoyed the Army-Navy game tremendously over here this weekend. I myself didn't actually watch too much of it, but Navy seemed to always be winning, so I could focus on the fun. That would be the drinks, and the food, and the company. And happily, for everyone, the kids activities kept them mostly outside or upstairs. I really don't watch football much, but it was great because I DO really love socializing with grown ups. And I haven't done much of that while Jamie was deployed.

A 9 AM kickoff is always hard, though it is nice to trade the typical beer and chips and burgers for mimosas, bloody marys, and brunch. I love brunch. I would say that brunch is easily my most favorite meal ever.  I made an egg and sausage casserole, and blueberry muffins, and crab dip, of course. It was nice to cook good food, I didn't do much of that while Jamie was gone, either.

Not sure how happy I was to see my husband drunk by 11 AM, but at least we all had a good time. After the party was over, we still had to drive to the base because it was the last day to get his last few bags off the carrier. I was worried, afraid he might fall off the boat, I told he couldn't walk onto the boat drunk. He said something about how he can indeed, and has before, and it's done all the time. Chuckles from the other Navy men present.

He did manage to stay awake so I could take him to the boat. Maybe partially because I told him if he passed out he'd wake up without his mustache. He got his bags off the carrier, and I have to say, by the time he walked off the boat, he was stone sober. That'll do it, I guess.

It's Military Family Appreciation Week!

I can't believe I didn't even know there was such a week!

As Navy Adm. Mike Mullen, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, puts it: "Families serve just as their uniformed service members do. And the military family has rarely faced as many challenges as our families do today. After seven years of war, hundreds of thousands of families have served through multiple deployments in support of operations Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom, as well as many other locations throughout the globe.

"But the love and support of our military families do more than allow us to serve abroad. Our families serve at the very center of American society. They are the bedrock of a free republic which provides for a common defense – and their commitment to the values of hard work, self-sacrifice, and moral virtue is a source of great pride and inspiration for us all."

Wow . . . "the bedrock of a free republic" . . . that's some serious stuff. Much harder to get my head around that than it is to understand the part about hard work and self-sacrifice. That part is all too clear, especially now, at the end of a deployment. Cheers to all my fellow milspouses this week! Ain't it nice to be appreciated? ;-)

Resurfacing

I just took a Princess Bride Challenge quiz on Facebook, and now the title of this post has me thinking of the scene when Westley and Buttercup finally emerge from the sandpit in the fire swamp, gasping for air.

Life gets that way sometimes, and I wish I was the consistent type who could keep writing in spite of a chaotic life coupled with pneumonia. But I am not that on top of things. Add one more thing to my pile and I do feel like I've fallen into a sandpit and need my Westley to grab a rope and help pull me out. Too bad mine is cruising the Pacific somewhere.

Though I must say, when I watch that movie, and when the R.O.U.S. is attacking Westley, I get really exasperated at how Buttercup just sits there, scooting away from the giant rat in terror, helplessly poking a stick toward it. Puh-lease, like she couldn't grab a bigger stick, start swinging and do some damage. Buttercup is no milspouse, that's for sure. Course, she hasn't had kids yet, either. That would toughen her up a bit.

I'm feeling healthier, and trying to knock things off my never ending to-do list, because it's less than a week before Jamie comes home. Which doesn't give me much time to get someone to haul away the nasty old fridge in the garage before he can stop me. Gotta get busy, but I am definitely back, so stay tuned.