Destiny: Housewife

Today I had a conversation that mirrored conversations I've had countless times with copious amounts of people since entering the military life: careers. If you're reading this then you know my current personal tale of woe with this subject matter so I don't need to beat that horse; but, the things I'm hearing and taking in around me all seem to be the same story with different names. One woman who recently began working in a GS (aka government job) position informed me that she has been trying for a GS job for 15 years- all while moving around the country with her husband. At each base she immediately applied for Spouse Preference and hit the application website; finally being met with success after 15 years. Another's story includes getting a GS position, having to leave the area due to her husband's change of station, moving back a handful of years later (in response again to a change of station) only to have to wait until someone left her previous position in order to get back in to the government sector. The coveted (and elusive) GS job is so appealing as it enables you to take your years worked, pay earned, and leave accrued with you to the next GS position; thereby, creating some semblance of a career and building retirement.
Of course, not everyone works in a GS position. Some spouses find themselves working as free lance writers, fitness instructors, teachers, Scenty consultants, photographers, baristas, or even retail sales associates. In my particular case I have currently become (among all of my volunteer positions) a personal doggy day care; taking in a dog for a full day of care three days per week. We do what we can to stay sane, busy, and get out of the house. We volunteer, we join clubs, we blog (teehee), we go to the gym, we take jobs we never envisioned we'd take just to feel as if we have a purpose, and many spend the better portion of their weeks caring for their children. But for those of us who desire a career with retirement benefits and insurance options this continuous background music of grasping at any available "work" playing in my life begins to beg the question: Are we, as military spouses, destined to be housewives?
Ok, ok, I'm sure some of you reading this are immediately preparing your defense at this statement. Give me just a second: I am not saying that being a teacher or selling clothing or taking care of your children isn't work and doesn't have benefits; however, it's hard to argue that any of those things provides us with the same career background and stability that our spouses have in their military careers as we continue to move around the world. It is for this reason that I begin to wonder as I look around and meet more and more of you if we, as military spouses, are destined to be housewives?
I know that we all "know what we're getting in to" when we decide to marry our military spouses but, in a little bit of fairness does anyone truly realize it means giving up our career potentials? We think about the cost of being away from family, the cost of constantly moving, the cost of making new friends and leaving the old, the cost of handling things alone while our spouse is down range. Trust me, we think about it. But I don't think anyone truly realizes it means giving up hope of a long term career. The military simply isn't set up for us to succeed professionally in the long term- it is meant for the active duty member. That age old saying "if the military wanted them to be married they would have issued them a wife/husband" becomes clearer and clearer with every significant conversation I have with my friends, colleagues, and passing spouse. For some I know this set-up is ideal and everything they DID envision for themselves; those individuals are perfectly happy and content and for them I am very very happy (and admittedly a teensy bit envious); but, for anyone reading this you already know that's not me. For that i will end with my original question: Are we destined to be housewives?

Kitchen Science (lite)

You know that smell that creeps up on you out of the blue and all of a sudden you can't go near your kitchen sink? That smell the emanates from your sponge? The one that seeps into the pores of your skin making your hands smell like old sponge for half a day? Getting the picture? Well, I currently have that problem. Of course, the simple solution is to toss the sponge, open a new pack, and go about my dishes; but as I am learning to be less wasteful and more "thrifty" I have decided not to accept that answer (at least not yet). Google has tons of theories and methods from washing it in bleach to leaving it out in the sun for a week to praying to the god of kitchen smells while hopping on one foot backward around your sink (ok that one may be a bit of an exaggeration and perhaps a downright lie, but some of the methods out there can be just as outrageous!). So I decided to open this quandary up to the ladies of facebook and this is what I found:

• Buy a new one (I felt this one could be saved for a later date as it sort of defeated the purpose of my quest)
• Place the sponge in a mixture of boiling water and vinegar for a few minutes
• Microwave it with dish soap and water (apparently this cleans out the microwave, too; making it a double dipper of a method!)
• Place it in the washing machine when bleaching whites
• Wash it in the dishwasher (on the top rack) every other load of dishes
• Fill the sink halfway with water, add bleach, and let your sponge soak
• Reuse it for scrubbing tubs instead of dishes (while it is a thrifty approach it still makes my hands smell- at the very least this one is being placed above option 1, above)
• Wet it, wring it out, microwave for 30 seconds and voila! 

It's clear that there is no one tried and true, passed down through generations, guaranteed method to "that smell." So now we experiment!

The second half of this post is going to be filled with my attempts to weed out the answer. Stay tuned!

Home Sweet Furniture

Admittedly I am somewhat materialistic. I enjoy name-brand things and wish I could afford more of them. But what I'm about to discuss is something completely different. This is about MY things. Some of them are name-brand; some of them are hand-me-downs that have been through 4 or 5 different homes; some of them are hand made; and even some come from trips to other countries I've never even seen with my own eyes; but what they all have in common is that they are mine. That's right, our household good are here!
No more air mattress. No more of the same 5 shirts and pair of shorts(I'm exaggerating...sort of). No more basing our dinner choices on what cooking utensils we brought with us. No. We now have all of our things- even things we haven't taken out of their original boxes from our wedding gifts!  I have found reason in the past week to use our new hand mixer at least twice! Today we had our neighbors over for brunch just to have reason to use the waffle maker. Needless to say I am feeling quite materialistic as I am deriving my happiness from kitchen gadgets, bed sheets, and sofas.
The catch of course is that as I look around this 2500 sq. ft. home I realize that John and I do not have near enough furniture to fill this home. We come together from two tiny apartments; one of which the occupant would have been happy sleeping on a mattress on the floor (one guess which of us that is...). Every time I walk through the front entrance I am reminded of our fledgling status as a married couple and the obvious upgrade we have made in moving in to this home. We do not even own enough furniture to fill two of the rooms in the house. We are using our kitchen table pulled out to it's largest size as our dining room table, and have left empty the kitchen space meant for the kitchen table just so we can utilize the dining room.
But the thing is...
These are the days we will laugh about later. These are the days where we truly know what it is we "need." As we begin to purchase items to fill this house and daydream about the pieces we will have "one day" I am met with a feeling of contentment. I don't need all of these things. We can survive on far less than we have; even if what we have is far less than what is necessary in order to fill this house. Patience. The day will come when I look around and realize that whatever home in whatever town in whatever state we find ourselves will have every room and wall filled with my things. Today is not that day and tomorrow won't be it either. But for today I am happy knowing that the things we have are our own and that I am at home with my husband.

Things I Wish Someone Had Thought To Tell Me (the mil version)

Every day I am finding out that I am learning something new (that's the point of this blog, I know). But with every new realization I really wish someone had thought to themselves, "this would be good to tell someone who is new to the base." It is likely they assume I learned these things at our previous base but let's be honest, not everything runs the same at each base! For example, at our old base they played Retreat and the National Anthem at 5 o'clock every day and if you were on base you had to stop (even if you were driving) and wait until it was finished (those in uniform had to face the music and salute). At our current base however they play the Air Force song at noon and Retreat and the National Anthem at 5 every.single.work.day. Being new to the military life and new to this base I only learned this unique quality of our base purely by accident when I walked out of a building one day and noticed that the world around me had come to an eerie halt. It is difficult enough to move to a new area or start a new job but it puts things at a whole other level when you find yourself in the military; it becomes a whole new world. My husband had the fortunate ability to go through ROTC and literally learn these things in a classroom; I, however, am learning them as a go: day-by-day. If only there was a class for me, too! It is for this reason (and for every day I learn something new the hard way) that I wish there was someone who would reach out to me, hand me a packet with all those "things your spouse doesn't think to tell you" and fill me in on all the little ways that make this (military) world tick. If you were creating this packet what kinds of things would you think to include? What have you had to pick up (hopefully not the hard way) along the way?

A Lesson Learned From Poorly Written Literature

One of my many joys in having "down time" is getting to take scores of books out of the library. I love being able to (literally) judge a book by its cover. I pick up a book from the shelves, glance at the cover and inside sleeve, and decide if it is worth my time; and because library books are free I feel no guilt in tossing it aside after 8 or so pages if I decide I don't want to read it. Since moving to Virginia I have a lot of "down time" and was fortunate to recently find that a branch of the local public library is only a three minute drive down the road. Nine books later I came home with a mixture of Agatha Christie mysteries, a Dean Koontz, and a slew of books authored by the disreputable. It is from one of these books that I take tonight's blog post.
The impression left on me by this book comes from a section referencing the "story of the five balls." It is likely that someone reading this has heard this story in some form or another but the gist of it is this:

In this life everyone has to learn to juggle a total of 5 balls.

The 5 balls include family, friends, work, integrity, and health.

Four of the balls (family, friends, integrity, and health) are made of glass and therefore, if dropped, can be scratched, chipped, or even shatter.

The fifth ball,work, is made of rubber. If it is dropped it will always bounce back to you. 

The moral of the story (if you haven't guessed) is that one must take care when juggling the 4 glass balls but that we should always remember that the rubber ball, work, will always return to us.

This is a lesson that has always been hard for me to keep in perspective. Even now when I have time to enjoy these judgmental literary endeavors I am continuously concerned with when I will get a job; why I haven't gotten a job; IF I will get a job in Virginia; and whether or not I am going to have to begin applying to McDonald's in order to feel as if someone is interested in me. I have never been one who is comfortable staying at home; I have always had to be involved in something (which is what has led me to volunteer in an office on base within the first 5 days of arriving here- but that is another post in and of itself). Despite the fact that we have been here just barely over two weeks I feel anxiety over having not found a job yet and fear over the ambiguous future of my professional career. Having read the poorly written book I took this lesson from (and yes, I did end up finishing it) you would think I would be relieved of my anxieties and fears; but this is not the case. I am still anxious and still consumed with thoughts of where to look for job openings and if and when I will get hired. But I suppose at the very least I must realize and also admit that a part of my daily thoughts are now occupied with the lesson learned by the story of the 5 balls. I will get a job. "Work" will bounce back to me. It is simply the rest of the 4 life aspects, the 4 balls, the 4 important parts of my world that need my energy. It is this I now choose to focus my time and efforts; and when work is ready to come back to me I will be there to catch it.

Church Signs

I am not a religious person. I know starting things off that way can lead to some disagreement but religion and choice of religion is not the purpose of this post; so let's move on. Despite not being a religious person I still enjoy reading the sayings and quips churches come up with and post on their road signs. You know the signs that are at the edge of the road out front of most churches? Those are the ones I'm referencing. Most of them tend to be Bible teachings and encouragement to get back into the church. Some times they are so clever that they make me laugh out loud. But occasionally I see one that makes me think. The most recent one  being the following: "If you throw mud at someone it is you who is losing ground." I saw this on a church sign yesterday and thought to myself, well that is quite fitting. In today's world with text messaging, instant messaging, facebook posts, and even blogs it is ridiculously easy to slander against someone and verbally bully them that I thought that this week this local church was on the right track.
I began to think about all of the times I have seen or even participated in backhanded messages or posts about another person. You know, the ones where you or another person write or says something about someone else as if he/she isn't there? It is clearly directed at that individual but for whatever reason if we don't use the person's name we feel like it's okay. We all know it's not okay and the purpose of this post is not for me to try to patronize anyone or promote the current (and very popular) anti-bullying movement. Rather, I simply felt like the saying I saw on the church brought up a good point. Just to decrease the likelihood of it coming across as a righteous attempt at teaching a lesson I will use my counseling skill of "I statements." Whenever I find myself upset with another individual and expressing this either verbally or digitally through angry and defaming words I hope to try to remember that this is only hurting me. I know, I know, words hurt others and I don't deny this; however, I suppose my point for this post is that in my own life it is I who is losing my ground and losing my ability to call myself a good, understanding, and kind person.
As I continue write this I am reminded of many instances where I have done just what I am writing about: lost my temper, spoke negatively to or about someone, flat out flipped out and spewed angry negative words (if you know me you know my capability for this). On some level I knew that this made me look bad each time it happened but until yesterday I never fully grasped the fact that whoever was within ear (or in today's world, eye) shot began to permanently view me in a different light. Despite my attempts at trying to tear down another individual through my "muddy" words I was only tearing down my own character and public image. In short, through my words it is I who was losing ground.
My only hope after learning this about myself is that I am able to retain the lesson learned and apply it in the future. At this moment though I am at the very least grateful for learning the message; and for that, I thank you church down the road! I guess we never know where we'll learn something new.

'Tis The Season

Our new neighbors have recently invited us to their Christmas in July party that they are holding tomorrow night. First off, I have never been to a Christmas in July party and do not have the foggiest idea what it is we have gotten ourselves into; but, of course, I have decided that we cannot show up empty-handed. Since I refuse to use pre-made cookie dough for cookies I chose to make "No Fail Sugar Cookies." I figured,"Hey, I'll just decorate them with red and green icing and sprinkles. No big deal." It is 11:33 pm and it has now become "a big deal."
For whatever reason the cookies are about 1/3 as flavorful as a cookie should be, and perhaps most horrifically: they're chewy. My husband politely ate one and informed me that they weren't "that bad" and that with the icing they should be just fine. Cue icing and sprinkles... They still suck. I suppose now is where I simply suck up my pride and succumb to the pre-made roll of dough from the store. I just hope no one will be able to tell the baker's name is Pillsbury. 
If you promise not to tell my secret I would really appreciate it : )


OH! And if anyone can make the cookies and figure out where things went wrong let me know:
http://www.recipegirl.com/2008/08/10/no-fail-sugar-cookies/