Accelerate Your Life

The past twenty-four months have rocked our family. We expected to take a giant leap of faith and move to Austin, Texas. We made all the preparations. Rented the house, booked the movers, set up utilities, found the right school for both me and the kids, updated our insurance. We said a temporary good bye to both sides of our family. We are a close knit group and fully expected to be back in California regularly. That door slammed shut in one quick swoop. Over. We picked ourselves up by the bootstraps and moved on. The dream lives on; currently on standby.

30 days later my husband was overseas. Again, to the power of 6. We have thrived through many tough deployments, but that one nearly broke me. The stress was overwhelming. I was stressed, sick, and spiraling. I packed on 20 pounds. The kids were on a tightrope of confusion. I am the happy one. I am the enthusiastic one. I am the fighter. I was no longer that person, merely drifting and hanging on til the bitter end. The deployment literally ended with a bug infestation, Strep Throat for three people, and exhaustion. Six months later we moved. Still in CA, no longer in the clutches of Sweepers. {That is a post for another time.}

We are slowly finding our new normal. Our new way of life. The kids are in a fantastic school. They are in sports, and clubs, and excelling. We are letting go of old stress and embracing a rare new stress. If you are a fellow military wife you know the fight:

   Shore Duty.

Ah, Shore Duty. The unicorn of the Navy Career. The 3 years your Sailor gets on dry land. Except they don't tell you where the dry land really is. Or that three years is slang for "occasionally" and shore really means "work even harder." I'm not saying Shore Duty is harder that Sea Duty. That is a beast all by itself. Sea Duty is not for the weak of mind or spirit. You must be prepared to find a balance of focusing solely on your mission at hand and loving the family you left at the pier. I am saying Shore Duty is not where you sit behind a desk, sipping your cappuccino, and go home by 3pm. That happens about 1 in 499 times. 

So here we are: Accelerating our lives. Pushing on when we want to grind to a halt and drink a giant margarita. I need this blog as much as anyone. I need to share the bits and pieces of this life that shake me to core. Some places and people are forever impacted on my heart-those stories to come. Some places and people are imprinted in a way that makes me shake my head and laugh. Those posts also to come. Some bits are hard and make you cry. And that's what the Sisterhood is for.

Pool Tables

Pool Tables weight about 1 Ton. In my opinion. I guess I don't really get an opinion here because I didn't lift it, but still. Pool tables are not meant to be moved more than once. I learned that lesson. Recently, a fellow Navy family posted they were selling a pool table. They were moving and the table could not accompany them. It was a great table for a great price. I mentioned it to Mr. International. Enter chaos. We get there to pick it and realize that two men could not possible transport this thing. The seller graciously phones two neighbors to come help lift it into our truck bed. Us two wives, both under 5'4" mind you, crawl under it to unscrew the legs. WHAT WERE WE THINKING? I don't know. The legs don't unscrew. They happen to be bolted in. Fantastic. After some more poking and prodding the legs are off and the table in the truck. Great!

Not great. There is just me and the Man to unload it. If you are internally laughing, I understand. I round up three complete strangers to my husband (not me, one of us lives in here remember?) and these men get the table out of the bed of the truck and up the front steps. It won't go in the door. A friendly neighbor sitting on his stoop casually asks if they need any help. I'm guessing the four struggling Sailors, kids running around, and flying pumpkins didn't make that clear enough. So, now we have FIVE grown men pushing this thing into the house. Did I mention it's in my house and not the garage?

Whew. The legs are on. No one is dead. No broken fingers. The four guys leave with promises of beer and pool. Mr. International gets to work fixing the table, leveling it, brushing it, whatever men do with new pool tables.

We take a step back to admire this new addition to our home to realize it takes up the entire front room of our house. This thing huge. It goes from the living room onto the dinning room floor. I mean really, really huge. That's okay. We move in six months. I can live with a ginormous table in the middle of my house for six months. I'm flexible and cool. We go a couple of days and adjust our routine with this behemoth fun thing in our home.

Until the third day. When my husband says he wants it in the garage.

-Dev

What I learned as a Military Spouse

I am a Navy wife. Just in case that wasn't clear. I live near a Navy base. I volunteer with lots of organizations who want to help serve the Navy community. So, I hang out with a lot of military spouses. Thought I'd say Navy, huh? Nope. The military world is diversifying and I have lots of friends from every Branch. Except Army. I have one Army Wife friend. That's another story for another day.

I am in daily contact with the military life. Not just our own, but the thousands around me. I get to watch thousands of people serve our country without blinking an eye. It is very inspiring. I have learned quite a bit over my years and am compelled to share it with you this evening. Here are my top life lessons:

I have the ability to condemn the woman at Target who is complaining about her husband being gone two weekends this month for golf trips (my husband just spent 90% of three years overseas). I do not have the right. Yes, my husband is gone a lot. Yes, he speaks some foreign language at me. COMRATS, anyone? Yes, he is up early and home late. Yes, he smells like fuel ALL THE TIME. Yes, he is fighting for their right to go golfing on a Sunday. What I do have is the wisdom and understanding to be compassionate. I get it. I can help. I can encourage her.

Find a friend. It's not going to be the same as the best friend you left in Portsmouth. That is alright. Love the friend you left and love the friend gained. You are going to need them both. You are going to need someone who knows all the ridiculous quirks you have about the way you clean an oven. You are also going to need a friend who is with you. Literally. Someone who can bring you soup and Gatorade. Someone to put on the Emergency forms (Ombudsmen don't count). You are going to need people in your life, headed the way you're headed. The key here is trial and error. We might not score a great best friend on the first day in our new house. That doesn't mean we shouldn't try.

We have the time to serve. I agree military families deserve the attention and recognition for the sacrifices in our lives. I also know we have the ability to get outside and help the city we live in. Right now. The military is going to move us all over and very often. Don't let that hinder you. Love the place you're in, even if you hate it. Ever heard the saying, "behavior invokes respect?" We can invoke the respect of whatever town we are in this year by showing our best behavior. Don't misread that. I'm not saying plates of cookies and pearls and elbows off tables will make anyone love you. I'm saying give back to where you are and they will.

Kids, kids, kids, kids... are crazy. As bats. Add in a slew of deployments, some weird shaped houses, nine different schools, two left-behind best friends and a couple of bad haircuts and we give you a military kid. You're welcome, America. These kids are going to knock your socks off. They are the most resilient, quick, well rounded group of any generation. These kids are going places and not just the mall. Military kids are loyal, tenacious, driven, kind, and look out for one other. One parent at home? They get it. Someone's dad just got home from overseas, but theirs is away? That's OK. They are going to be happy for you anyway. So please, America, be nice to our military kids. They believe their Service Member is a Superhero who fighting for you.

Countdowns rings are workings of the Devil. Stop the madness! They might have been great when deployments were six months on the dot. Do you know how difficult it is to sneak 30 more rings onto a countdown without someone noticing? Nearly impossible and usually involves ice cream bribes. So, please take it easy on yourselves with the countdowns. Trying to tick away every second our loved one is gone will drag us down. Take a breath, take a bath, take a Xanax if you have to, but do not take it out on yourself or those around you. We can't make time speed up, so stop trying.

Cherish the plain moments. Let me explain. Right after my Sailor deploys, I don't wish for more fancy dinners or trips or lavish gifts. I wish to see his smile, his NWUs on the floor, giant boots clogging up the entryway, the sound of his truck coming in, man sized meals, and his music left on in the garage. I pray that wasn't the last time I saw him. I wish for more plain moments with him to remember. The moments we take for granted every day are the ones that fill our memory. Yes, Disneyland is nice. But, remembering what it's like to curled up on the couch together, eating Chinese food, watching t.v. is a thousand times better. The next time you are right in the middle of a plain moment, take a mental picture. Breath in the air. Remember that these are the moments we live for.

-Dev