Because we're not them...

     A lot of people seem to bemoan getting older, but I, for one, welcome it. As I age (not my body, just my mind. I have amazing genes.) I find that I am able to take a thought and roll it over in my mind, and have the ability to see all sides of it. There are probably some lucky people born with this ability, but mine seems to grow by leaps and bounds the older I become.

     That being said, I may piss some of my fellow military spouses off with this, but then again, I have never been one to care what others think about me - it's a gift. Stop comparing yourself and your life to non-military families.

     I know, I know, when we see a friend post on Facebook how hard it's going to be while their husband is gone for a few nights, we roll our eyes and think, "Oh please." We can cook dinner while entertaining a toddler, folding laundry, and make a callout to our fellow wives all with one hand tied behind our back. See, that's the thing. We know we can do it. We laugh at the women who have to wait for their husband to come home from work to kill a spider, or hang a curtain rod for them.

     I am guilty of this. Way back in 1997, Adam was at Ranger School for three months, during the summer. I was 23 and bitter. I would sit in my living room every day and see couples walking by, hand in hand, and in my head I'd be saying, "Fuck you." I was very eloquent when hurt, as you can tell. I was jealous. Jealous that they were with their spouses, and I wasn't. I couldn't just pop over to my mom's house or my sister's, because they lived 1,000 miles away.

     Then comes Facebook. I admit, I used to tell civilian women to suck it up, in the most polite way I could. Didn't they know what I was going through? My worry trumped their worry. I was playing the martyr and the victim. I can look back now and realize this wasn't very nice of me, but sometimes it was extremely frustrating to see women who complained about their husbands, while I was just hoping and praying every day that Adam would return safely.

     Who are we to tell someone they can't miss their husband, even if he's headed to a business meeting in Miami? We don't know what's going on in their lives. Maybe they have a sick child, or are the main caregiver to a dying relative. It's not up to us, as military spouses, to be the all-knowing of what it means to miss someone. There are spouses, military and non-military alike, who use social media to garner sympathy for themselves. That gets old, sister. Sorry your kids have a vacation from school for the week and you have to be a parent. If I happened to read or hear my mother say that when I had been growing up, I would have been devastated. Luckily, I was an angelic child who never caused my mom any trouble. (No comments on that last sentence, please.)

     So, my fellow spouses, especially my Ranger wives, let go of the bitterness. Just think about it - you're married to a square-jawed handsome badass who even Chuck Norris is afraid of. There are very few of us who can say that. Be proud, be brave, and don't compare yourself to anyone else - this is your life.

    

Because I just don't understand...

     The more commercials I see about new TV shows boggles my mind. A show about two women who fit women for a correct bra size? Really? Don't even get me started on Honey Boo Boo, or "housewives" who wipe their asses with $100 bills. This isn't reality. This is crap, pure and simple. I understand guilty pleasures, but as more and more of these "shows" appear, the more and more I don't understand what is happening in this world.

     I'm biased, of course, but what about the reality of our servicemen and women? Why do our kids know more about the sex lives of teenagers who are rewarded with a TV show because they became pregnant? They are who our kids watch, and who think this is the norm.

     How many people know an actual servicemember, or know what their life is really like? They should be the people our kids look up to, to want to emulate as they grow up. Sure, there are shitbags in the military, same as any other profession, but there are also men and women who could tell you a story or two (or thousands) that would leave you speechless.

     There are those who mourn when celebrities die. Death is always sad, but when celebrities who had the money and support to go to rehab die, I'm sorry, I just can't care very much. Addiction is a nasty thing, I understand. But why are they celebrated, and our military who die while doing their job are swept under the rug?

     These men and women willingly join the service. They choose it for their career. It's not just a job, it IS a career. They hug their wives, their moms, their kids, and pray that they will see them again. They know in the back of their minds that they may not return from war. They don't want their wife to be a widow, to have their children grow up without a father, but yet they go, because they are selfless, and brave, and willing to do what most people can't or won't do. They spend months not sleeping in their own bed, eating crappy food, hoping that when they call home, someone picks up the phone, just to hear their voice.

    THEY DO THIS WILLINGLY.

     They get shot at, they hope as they roll down the roads of Afghanistan that an IED isn't triggered to go off, they never know what's ahead for them. They miss birthdays, anniveraries, holidays, etc., yet they don't complain about it. They signed the dotted line, held up their hand and swore to do their job.

     These are the people our kids should be learning about, not people being paid obscene amounts of money because they can throw a football or can sing. Our children deserve better. They deserve to know about bravery and sacrifice. It's time to make things right.

Because it's our own sisterhood...

     Last summer, I was at a get-together to say farewell to a special Ranger wife I've known for many years. In her speech, she said, "The guys have their Ranger buddies, and it's just as important for us wives to have them too." I instantly whipped my head around to my friend Lani and whispered, "You're my Ranger Buddy." I didn't give her much of a choice, but from that point on, we called each other RB. I'll let you in on a secret: the bond between military wives is strong, but the bond between Ranger wives is something most women will never have the opportunity to know.

     I've always been more comfortable around men. I can participate and know what I'm talking about if football comes into the conversation. Or baseball, golf, what have you. I don't know about wine or Grey's Anatomy. I'd rather have a few girlfriends I can trust than 100 friends I don't know very well. The women I've met and call friends through Adam's job I can trust 100%, and then some.

     The Ranger community is small. Sometimes I've been afraid to fart because I knew everyone in the community would know within five minutes. But, as a wife, we know inherently what the other wives are going through, especially during deployments. We don't feel bad texting another wife and letting them know we're having a bad day, or that we miss our husbands something awful. We are strong, but we also have those days, just like everyone else. We don't feel the need to let everyone on Facebook know, because we don't want sympathy. We want empathy, and we find that in our fellow wives.

     We watch each other's kids. We go out to eat together. We form book clubs and workout groups. We keep each other busy because it makes the long, seemingly endless days go by faster. We will drop everything if another wife is in need. We blindly sign up to help out other wives if they should ever need it, not knowing who or when, but because we truly care about each other. We are given opportunities to share feelings, memories, tears, and frustration when a Ranger dies in combat. Even if we didn't know him, we all grieve in our own way. We may not be family by blood, but we are family by heart.

     The women I have been fortunate enough to meet in the Ranger community are invaluable to me. I think we have all helped each other in ways others will never know, and those ways we do know about, we treasure because we know that any other woman wouldn't quite understand the way we do. We chose the man, not the life, but along with that life comes that glint of pride in our eyes and the knowing that regardless of what happens, we will always have each other's backs.

    

Because so soon we forget...

     Think back to Sept. 12, 2001 - how you felt, how the country had changed within a matter of hours. How wherever you went, you saw an American flag, and people were quicker with a smile, or said hello to you, even though they were a stranger.

     What in the hell has happened to all of us since then?

     One quick browse through any social media website, newspaper, or magazine, and let me tell you, it's no Sept. 12, 2001 anymore.

     I perused a quick article my brother-in-law shared on Facebook about different ways to be happier. One suggestion was to let up on debating others about politics, religion, etc. I took this to heart, because as I read it, I realized that while I enjoy healthy debates, the chance of me changing someone's mind, opinion, or morals was slim to none. If I could get someone to see a different point of view, then that's great, but it seems that so many of us think that our opinions are right, and anyone who doesn't agree with us is wrong. I'm so sick of this mentality, that I refuse to be drawn into it anymore. I'd rather have a bout of explosive diarrhea than try to explain why I have a gun in my home for self-protection and it's really not their business.

     I think one thing that keeps me grounded is that Sept. 11 is never far from my mind. Adam has deployed since October of 2001, and has deployments in the double digits now. Every homecoming has been special. I've had the honor of meeting many families who didn't get to  have a happy homecoming. That weighs heavily on me, and reminds me to never take the time we have together for granted. We don't spend time fighting, or nagging. We enjoy each other; we enjoy the time we can spend with Addison as a family. There's no guarantee any of us will wake up tomorrow, yet some people seem to live with bitterness and unhappiness. Why would you choose to live that way?

     Think back to the middle of December of 2012. How horrified were we as people, as parents, to know 20 innocent children and six innocent adults lost their lives at what is supposed to be a safe haven? How many of us couldn't wait to see our child when they got off the bus, when we picked them up, when they walked through the door? Who didn't hug their kids a little tighter, and while we grieved for those in Connecticut, we also breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't our child, that it didn't directly affect us?
 
    Yet life seems to go right back to normal. We are cranky when our kids piss us off, we think nothing of calling others names when we don't agree with them, we judge people by what they look like, what kind of clothes they wear, what their beliefs are, and so much more.

     I don't like the now. Why should it take a tragedy for us to be nice to others? We never know what someone else is going through on a daily basis. Maybe you randomly smiling at a stranger could make their day. Maybe it could make your own day. Let's tap back into the nice, and wipe away the hate.

Because life is tough, sugar...

I'm not here judging anyone. I'm a quiet person, and I like to observe people and how they act, speak, etc. Lately it seems like everyone on social media is lamenting their children growing up. I get it, I really do. Every day Addison hugs me, then turns to Adam and says, "Look at how much taller I am than Mom!" If I'm outside or somewhere else in the house, sometimes I get scared because I hear a man's voice. It's not an intruder - it's my man-child who's voice has changed. It's taken some getting used to, trust me. It's inevitable that our children will grow up, God willing. It's our job as parents to make sure they turn into adults, productive adults and generally good people. That said, here I go.

Stop babying them. It's okay to treat them like a child, because they are. But to try to keep them young is nothing but a disservice to them. Life is tough, and it only gets tougher the older you get. Not teaching a child life skills because you're lazy or trying to keep them babies is wrong. Teaching your kid to tie her own shoes isn't going to make her suddenly grown up. It's teaching her a life skill she'll need. I know each child reaches different milestones at different times. If your child is ready to be potty trained, by all means, potty train them. I don't know about you, but the day I stopped wiping Addison's ass was one of the best of my life.

I've been extremely lucky raising Addison. So much so I'll say it again. I've been extremely lucky raising Addison. It's been easy. Just like I was good until I hit the age of 13 and turned into a teenager. We are close - he tells me things a lot of teenaged boys wouldn't tell their moms. I've always been open with him. There is nothing we don't talk about, out in the open, in this house.

YOU ARE THE PARENT. I've seen so many parents kowtow and bargain with a child in a store. I don't know what's going on in their lives, but if Addison had ever acted like that in public, he'd be dragged out to the car, not offered a toy of his choice if he would just stop, and me asking him over and over, "Okay, is that okay with you?"

Like I said, I'm not judging, just voicing my observations. Prepare your kids for life, for the ups and downs of being an adult. It's going to happen, no matter how long you give your kid a bottle. Do the right thing by them, for yourself and for the world. Life's tough - make them tougher.

Because we're all a little awesome...

It's no secret I call myself awesome - a lot. Do I truly believe it? Sure, I think we've all got all sorts of awesome in us. What I don't understand is why everyone doesn't tap into their own awesomeness.

It's taken me a long time, but for the past few years I've lived with self-confidence. It wasn't something that just happened one day. I evolved, I matured (only in some ways), I realized I really didn't give a shit whether someone liked me or not.

It seems like lately people are afraid to be themselves. They are attacked for their beliefs, their morals, their likes and dislikes, etc., and they take this to heart to believe that they are wrong. It takes a strong person to stand strong during these times. I really don't understand people who attack others in this way. Are they really that miserable with themselves that if your taste doesn't match theirs you're automatically wrong? Does it make them feel like the better person? Well, they're not, and trust me on this, because I'm awesome like that.

If I want to listen to Justin Bieber's CD nonstop, eat a box of Twinkies in one sitting, watch Jersey Shore and read Harlequin romances about cowboys, I will. If you just rolled your eyes, you may be one of those people I loathe. I should be listening to opera, eating organic veggies, watching a documentary and reading War and Peace, right? Who's to tell me that I'm wrong and you're right? (I don't do any of those things, for the record.)

It may be time time to check yourself. Live and let live. Be yourself. You know your best friend, your close friends, your family who loves you for you? There's a reason for that. Don't try to be someone else. We all have our trials and tribulations - no one is perfect and no one leads the perfect life, no matter how wonderful they may portray it to be.

Embrace your big nose, read your comic books, and watch whatever the hell you want to on TV. If you like it, you like it. Don't let the bullies get to you. You're awesome.

Because it goes both ways...

I'm a Republican and I'm not ashamed to say so. It seems that affiliating yourself with either party these days will make you subject to being called names, questioning your intelligence, and so on. This needs to just stop.

We have been a military family for 16 years, and if you research it, the majority of servicemembers vote Republican. Why? Because it's the best for our way of life. I believe in a woman's right to choose and gay marriage. But if by voting Republican makes it better for myself and my family, the obvious choice is clear. I have made sacrifices for my family, large and small, including leaving a job I loved after 10 years because it was best for my family.

I read a comment months ago that said all Republicans are idiots. Nice blanket statement there, twatwaffle. This is one of the most ignorant comments I've ever seen. They might have well said a person is wrong for what color skin they have what and what sex they are. It's this sort of political crap that really boils my blood. Here's a mirror, now go fuck yourself. (I know, I have a bad potty mouth, get off my fucking back, I'll try harder, okay?)

By the time November rolls around, I think most of us are going to be annoyed to high heaven by each other. Sorry, but a million postings of Democratic leanings are not going to sway me. I am adamant about keeping an open mind in every situation, and trying to see both sides of something. It seems most people aren't willing to do this. Your loss, bud. Do some soul-searching, think about what your morals and convictions are, not everyone else's, or your parents, or your significant other. Think for yourself.

That's my opinion. If you don't like it, here's your mirror.