Inconvenient Me

I am not sure I have met one person that doesn't doubt their own self worth. Even those very confident people must worry about how they are viewed. Surely they must...

Yet again, this was passed over. I wish they would tell me why they don't want to publish these things, especially when I see things like this posted on Facebook...

So I present: Inconvenient Me

There is one thing I understand about people, and that is, as a whole, they love convenience. It is part of the reason social media is so huge, it gives everyone the most convenient and easy way to “stay in touch”. All anyone has to do is slap a “Like” or “Love” on something, and they now feel a part of your life. It’s actually very voyeuristic, the way social media has made us all. We have all become strangers to each other, just watching what happens from the outside.

While I may have a pretty package most days, I have rough edges. My husband does weird things like Deployments and TDY’s… we live a nomadic, lonely kind of life, and it’s hard for people not in the military life to understand me. Honestly, I am pretty sure it is hard for people IN the military life to understand me! We have three children, and two dogs, and our house is frequently very loud and chaotic. I have no chill, handle things with little to no grace, and I swear like a sailor. Who would want to even be my friend?

I am very inconvenient.

Our boys are only thirteen months apart in age… to say the youngest was a mistake is not accurate, but he sure did arrive a bit quicker than we planned. Our daughter is some kind of old soul gifted to us by the angels, and I often find myself astounded by her. I can see why the children have as many friends as they do, and it makes my heart glad. They are the kind of people that other people will think about when they are not around. My husband is also someone people think of when he is not around, but I am not so sure people think about me when I am not around. I don’t think anyone actively thinks to themselves “I wonder what Caitlin is up to?”

This used to bother me more when I was in middle and high school than it does now. I desperately wanted to be in the popular crowd, be invited to all the parties, and do all the cool things. I wasn’t popular and I didn’t get invited to do the cool things. In middle school, I was frumpy and awkward – I had bad acne and my parents were going through a divorce. The first two years of high school I was still awkward with acne, but now my father had graduated to full blown alcoholic. Who wants to hang out with the girl whose dad is a drunk? No one. That’s who.

After my Ma rescued my sister and me from my father, the last two years of high school didn’t really go the way I had envisioned either. I discovered things like marijuana and alcohol, and let’s just say I made some bad choices. What’s more is I continued to make bad choices all the way until I was 21! My learning curve was kind of on a bad bell curve, or something... Now that I am older, I know many of those choices and actions I did were in a deeply desperate attempt to get people to like me. At best, I think I was tolerated by people. At worse, I think people hated me. I don’t blame any of those people from when I was younger for those thoughts – I didn’t really like myself.

Despite all the growth I have done in my heart and soul, I still have that nagging feeling that people just don’t care. That it is actually too hard to care. That they are too busy with more worthwhile, and interesting people. Everyone wants to be friends with that gal that can complete an Ironman, or has the means to go to Disney World all the time. Everyone want to be friends with the fashionista momma, or the makeup-mom, or the good-at-telling-jokes mom. But what about all the moms that are just wondering if you think about them? What about moms like me… that used to be the desperate girl in school everyone made fun of? Who wants to be friends with us?

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I want to be friends with you. I want to see all the pictures from babyhood to toddlerhood and into school age. I want to drink coffee, or a diet coke, with you and I want to laugh at how dumb we used to be when we were younger. I want to hug you when you realize your parents are aging, and we are losing our grandparents. I want to cry with you when you stumble upon that day you realize you are all done having children. I want to go to the gymnastics meets, the cheerleading competitions, the football games, and the band concerts. I want to glory in all of your mundane things you do every day, because to me they are divine.

To me, you are the friend I will always chose. You know how to do real life, and you will always be worth the text message, the phone call, or the handwritten letter. I will always keep trying to be your friend, because I know that like me you feel inconvenient. So, come along, we can be inconvenient together. 

Always.     

     

Being Lonely

I had one response back from POPSUGAR about the piece I am presenting today. But it didn't seem to matter how many times I changed things around, they just didn't want it... It's a shame really. I think there are lots of new spouses, and maybe even seasoned spouses, that need to hear this sometimes. There are people out there that have no idea what military families go through, and maybe they need to read this also. Please feel to share as needed.

How I Survive

Someone asked me how my marriage works, as an Army spouse, and I had to think very hard. Our marriage works because I love him, I love our children, I love our country, and I have figured out how to be lonely. I think when a spouse doesn’t, or can’t, figure out how to be lonely, that is when the marriage hurts. It’s not your spouses’ fault he or she has to leave to do “Army Stuff”, but it will be one of your faults if you don’t figure out how to be alone. You don’t need to be full of grace, and patience while alone. You don’t need to be happy while alone. You don’t even have to smile while alone, but you do have to be alone. Alone, and lonely.

When I was newly married into this life, despite having been an Army brat all my life, it was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I discovered that part of being a military spouse isn’t a list of grand adventures, or the famous people we have met, or seemingly old-fashioned rules we have to follow… rather it is often times a long list of things we do NOT get to do. We do not get to go home for every Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, or any type of holiday one celebrates. We do not get to have our mother’s and sister’s present at the birth of any of our children, and some cases husbands don’t get to be there either. We do not get to hug our parents during the passing of their parents, and sometimes we do not get to be there for the burial of a beloved grandparent.

My experiences as an Army wife are as varied as the days are long. When my husband is home, the usual strange things happen to us… a kid gets a boo-boo, a dog gets sick, or the air conditioning stops working. However, when he is gone for any length of time, all hell breaks loose upon our household. When my husband deployed to Iraq two years ago, our then two-year-old ran into the corner of the entertainment center, fractured his nose, gave himself two black eyes, and a slight concussion. Later that same week, the washer began to leak, and there was a small flood in the laundry room overnight. The week after that, early in the morning a skunk was run over in front of our house, and instead of dying with grace, it drug itself to my driveway before dying - literally drug itself six feet from the scene of the crime to die in my driveway. This all happened in the first month he was gone!  

At the end of all those days, despite having friends to cheer me up and laugh with, I was alone. And lonely. It is isolating, in a way, that loneliness. It isn’t easy to articulate to people that don’t live this life, and while I don’t speak for every spouse out there, we have common themes among us. We all always have the same looming thing on the horizon - The PCS. A Permanent Change of Station is the term for the moves the military has a service member, or sometimes just his/her spouse, complete. P.C.S.’s always seem to happen right when you have found a few friends that really get you… Like, I finally found my mom tribe, one that didn’t begrudge my Diet Coke fueled crafting, and my mouth that swears like a sailor, then suddenly I swear the next day a crew of strangers arrived to pack my life into boxes.

The last move across the country was with three children, two dogs, and my amazing sister-in-law driving the extra car. My husband was in Iraq. A vast open highway sat before me, my friends behind me, and I was the loneliest not alone I had ever felt. A minivan full of kids and dogs, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I sat mile after mile listening to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, reminiscing about the last set of family photos I got to do with my husband before he deployed, and lamenting the fact I never got enough pictures with my friends. I also kept wondering if anyone would even want to be my friend at the new place.    

When we finally arrived in our new town, and I drove by two Targets in route to the new house! I felt tingling’s of hope start to creep in. I noticed things the locals probably take for granted –a fancy cupcake shop that was on Cupcake Wars, green chili on everything for some reason, and hot air balloons happily listing through the morning sky. I cried after the first week of living in the new place, because the moving truck was still not there. I just wanted to get on with things, and start to set up house. And when everything finally did arrive, lots of our stuff was damaged. Such is life.

Our neighbors were nice, if not somewhat bewildered at how I manage this life. People frequently would exclaim at me to “just ask for help” if I needed anything. I always just say thank you, and know I will probably never ask for help… it’s some type of flaw within me. I just do all the things. Everything was good during the days, and then bedtime would arrive.  All my doubts, fears, worries and loneliness would become all consuming. But, really, my time to dwell on those thoughts couldn’t, and can't, last long… tomorrow is always a new day, full of children with curious minds waiting to see just how high the heavy rock in the back yard can be thrown into the sky.     

…..

I have mentioned before that the only thing I have ever been good at is being a mommy. I am an above average wife, and I can usually admit when I am wrong… although, it might take me a couple days to admit this. The life I have built with my husband is actually the life I want. I have very little to no regrets about the choices we have made, the amount of children we have, and the number of dogs that occupy our home with us. This is my life. This is how many military spouses live their lives. My experience is not new or unique, but maybe it’s not talked about as much as it should be. There might be a young spouse out there right now that needs to read this. That needs to know, it is okay.

So, Little Spouse, you are okay. It’s hard, this life. We are nomadic - our tribe is always on the move, and we leave behind our members often. The first time is always the hardest time, and it doesn’t actually get any easier with each new move, but you do learn how to do it better. At your next duty station, try and find that spouse that seems to be able to do it all on his or her own. That is the spouse that, like me, is probably very good at being lonely. It’s not necessarily a skill we can teach you, but it is a skill we can model for you.

Plus, we usually make really good cookies. 

I Am the Adult

I wrote this while Big Guy was away this past summer... When I wrote this, we still had two and a half weeks left until he came home.  

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My husband teaches ROTC at the local university, and while I think this is an “easy” job in the grand scheme of things, he still has to go on Army Adventures. I am still at home with all three children, two dogs, a house to run in this state, and a house we own in a different state to worry about. Without fail, several things go wrong each and every time he leaves. This is a very common story throughout military life, and among military spouses. However, what goes wrong changes from “bye-bye” to “bye-bye”. Let’s talk about the things that have gone wrong in the three weeks my husband has been gone.

• ·         The middle child got a fever, and became a clingy, whiny sobbing creature that dripped snot all over my shoulder.
• ·         The in-ground sprinkler system in the backyard sprung a leak somewhere, and water began to pool in odd places. That one isn’t so bad I guess, but I worry about water conservation – we do live in the desert.
• ·         Middle child, after recovering from the fever, decided those toilet bowl refresher things you can clip to the side of the toilet would be perfect to flush! It caused the toilet to clog, massively, and I had to call the plumber. He later told me, “I was just trying to make it smell so nice.” Yup, it smelled super fresh in there, but I did not enjoy paying that unforeseen bill.
• ·         The garbage disposal broke, and leaked water all over the cabinet under the kitchen sink. The water damaged the particle board cabinet, and disintegrated anything cardboard… I had to wash dishes in the children’s water table outside, because I was desperate.
• ·         The littlest one got the fever the middle one brought home. Tiny then started complaining his tooth hurt, and crying intermittently for no apparent reason. I scheduled him to see the dentist, but he had new symptoms pop up, and when I called the dentist they recommended he see his primary care doctor first. Off to the pediatrician I went, all three kids in tow, and learned Tiny has Hand Foot Mouth Disease. This highly contagious, and super nasty virus has forced us into quarantine. 
• ·         I have filled out an order at Domino’s and Pizza Hut, and submitted neither because I am trying to save money and not order out. Yet, I am so desperate to see another adult human person after being in quarantine with these kids, that I might just order the damn pizza… or maybe Chinese would be yummy.
• ·         The vacuum became so clogged, I had to disassemble the machine to get the clog out… it was actually clogged in two places. My husband was like, “No worries, we will get a new one when I get home.” I was like, “Yay! I still need to vacuum over the next two weeks you are still gone.” So, I fixed the vacuum, and then decided I should shampoo the carpets while I was at the whole business. The damn carpet shampooer is not functioning properly either, and I have sent the company yet another email to complain.

Honestly, there are so many little things throughout the day that happen that I don’t think would happen if he were home, that I can’t even think of them. Someone once told me that God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. And I just laugh, because my understanding is of course he does, because he is God and he does what he wants. I am, however, reminded that God gives you the people you need when he has given you too much, and luckily I have had some pretty amazing neighbors and friends to give us love… from a far, of course, because we are all contagious right now.

I need an adult.

And I am the adult.

And Today sucks.

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For the record, today, the day I am posting this article, does not suck. Today is delightful.

I still need an adult though.

And I am still the adult. Go figure.  

When He Leaves

There is no other experience quite like a deployment. There is so much paperwork, stress, and tears to be had before it all happens... then your spouse leaves, and the kids are insane, the dogs are insane, and you maybe just want your mommy to come rescue you. But, somehow a new normal happens, and you get on with it all.

In the very short three weeks that Big Guy has been gone, middlest smashed his face into the entertainment center, causing a possible broken nose and a definite concussion. Littlest was stung by a bee, our first bee sting of the family, and was luckily not allergic. Sass graduated from level one in gymnastics, up to level two without even realizing she had been tested. The washing machine has sprung an odd leaks that happens sometimes, and sometimes not. The newest addition, our Golden Retriever puppy, peed on me while laying in bed with me. And I swear to God if one more person comes knocking on our door, during nap time, the house better be on fire, or they better be delivering free case of wine, or be The Rock offering to do topless housecleaning.

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I do not handle these kinds of situations with grace. I do not hold on to my dignity, and I am not above bursting into tears in the middle of the Walmart. I stress about money, laundry, house chores, and my own sanity more often than I probably should. I hate when people treat me like I am delicate, and about to break... I just want someone to make me laugh. Unfortunately, the person that makes me laugh the absolute hardest is the person that is gone.

And I suppose that is what hurts the most while Big Guy is deployed... How little I seem to laugh. How little I feel like I smile. It is so quiet with out him, and that's saying a lot considering just how loud or house is... Because, I swear, our kids and dogs can't hear me unless I am screaming at the top of my lungs for them to "please, just come eat your god damn dinner already!!"..



......

Yeah. I miss him. No. It does not go away, or get easier, or any of that rubbish people say. It just sucks the whole time. The. Whole. Time. But, he will come home.. he has to. I told him to, and I am bossy, so I know he will obey me.

Until he comes home, keep him in your thoughts and prayers. Until he comes home, send me chocolate or wine, or just come a visit me, gosh darn it. I will find a space for you to sleep. Until he comes home...

Living Outside Your Comfort Zone

Some very interesting things happened to us when we moved to Missouri. One of them being there are no malls, no fabric stores, and no Targets within any "normal" amount of traveling distances. There are a few chain restaurants around of our little town, but not a huge selection. A lot of people I have met that are also in the military, or have spouses in the military, lament that there is nothing to do around here - "Everything is so far away" they say to me. Or a lot of people will tell me how boring this town is.

Initially, I had adopted a similar attitude - woe is me, nothing to do, so, so bored. Then, one day I turned on the local radio station, and was astonished to hear how much there was to do around here. We are a rural community, and while not the most refined area, it is adorable in it's own way. Every weekend there is something going on in our town, or the two towns next to us that are about thirty minutes away. I realized that my boredom within this community was due in large part to me not trying. I was actively trying to not like this place, and what a truly shitty attitude to have. It was like when we moved to Anchorage, and I was hell bent on hating it... Now I long for those long winters, the community, the Iditarod, and all the crazy people that are born and raised in Alaska.

Being a part of the military community means that sometimes you move to towns and cities that are not your cup of tea. It means maybe not getting to chose the exact doctor or hospital you want. It means that maybe you don't get to go shopping all the time, or out to lunch all the time. It means that you have to learn to be flexible or you will end up a miserable jerk. It is essential to learn this trait, flexibility, so your children won't grow up to be miserable jerks.

Living in a small town means that people care about you. They know you personally, or know someone that knows you. You always have a network of people to call on, and you truly get to experience what the phrase "It takes a village" means. It takes a different kind of strength to live outside your comfort zone.