As a Milspo – that's military spouse – I'm often thanked for "my service." It's a statement to which I never know how to respond. I'm not serving … unless I brought you a stack of pancakes and refreshed your coffee (which, BTW I haven't done in years).
...I learned of free spousal classes. Offered on post for newbies (as well as those who are "nearly new"), it's put on by the MWR. (Morale, welfare, and recreation) It comes with a tour, rundowns of the area, an overview of services, and the ability to meet other newcomers while you're there. A priceless resource, I now realize.
FOLLOWING 9/11, we were deployed to the airport.
IN THE BEGINNING, people thanked us for our presence.
OUR LEADERSHIP DIDN’T THANK US: our lodgings were at the Marriott.
AFTER TWO MONTHS, I was allowed to return home.
SHY OF QUALIFYING FOR LONG-LASTING BENEFITS, everybody else got booted: involuntarily discharged.
“YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO GET IT THIS GOOD AGAIN,” our leadership said.
In my just-over-two-years as a military wife, my life has completely changed. I've learned "the system," moved states away from "home," and taken on an entirely different form of reality. No, I didn't change my morals or beliefs, nor vastly adjust spending habits – the military still leaves you with an identity, after all.
In Tim O’Brien’s masterful, short-story collection, The Things They Carried, the first-person narrator talks about returning to Vietnam with his daughter twenty years after he was a foot soldier there. While fictional, the story isn’t too far off for many Americans, who have returned to Vietnam on vacation
One of the worst things about being deployed was being trapped on the base all the time. On the occasions that I did get to venture out, I was restricted to when and where I could go. I understood the necessity of the restrictions, but would have really liked more freedom to explore my surroundings.
In the military world, there's a certain pattern you get used to. You go somewhere new, knowing nothing and no one; it's terrible. Then gradually, over time, things get to be not so bad. You make friends, you find hobbies and stores you like. Then, about the time you're used to your new home, it's time to up and leave and start the whole process over again.
The contract that I signed when I joined the Army reflected that I would serve no more than the four years that I signed up for. I put in a little overtime during that stretch (in those days you had to treat the military contract like a + 1 wedding invite; the + 1 in my case reflects the extra year of overseas duty after I got stop-lossed).
Long-distance relationships are hard under any circumstances. Add in stress of danger, work, separation of home life, and more (you know, the other stuff that comes from being deployed, not just on a work trip), and it's a scenario that's downright painful. Yet there are plenty of spouses who live this reality every single day.
Back when my husband worked in TRADOC (that's training + doctrine), he told me a story I've never forgotten. It was about a call they got at basic training: a wife called because her husband wasn't getting his mail quickly enough. His drill sergeants had a field day. The man got in a world of trouble, and his mail never came any faster – it simply took as long as it took.
The military life is not an easy one, adding parenthood to the mix complicates it even more. As parents we have a huge responsibility to raise our children to be the leaders of this world and in my opinion, it is our responsibility to expose them to the world, to teach them to think outside the box and to appreciate the little things in life
In today’s world raising children is not an easy feat. There are a lot of external factors that affect parenting styles. Adding the adversities brought on by a military lifestyle complicates everything even more. Our military children are forced to deal with a lot of life challenges at a very young age and it is our job as parents to help them overcome these life stressors and teach them how to be resilient.
My better half thinks my aversion to taking hikes is a little odd. I try not to say much, but for the most part being amongst the splendid silence of nature does nothing for me and even less for my soul—assuming I have one. This isn’t just a function of my relationship with my significant other. Many others have recommended hiking or backpacking to me as a prescription for an obvious illness that I have, and yet which no one can name.
Like any responsible fashion-conscious New Yorker, I follow every luxury retailer on Instagram. It is a hardship to keep up with all of the trends, a social media minefield of knowing things like what is the current it-bag and making sure not to carry it, myself. The goal after all, is to be trendy without being like everyone else.