Wordless Wednesday

Mrs. (Husband's Job)

SO not my title.

My husband entered his job as an enlisted grunt. He entered as someone who had earned an AA & an AS (in a CCF degree-- see below), graduating with a 4.0 (enabling him to wear all sorts of cool ribbons during graduation). THIS would make it easier for him to "cross over" to the "O" side when he was ready. It also helped him towards earning his work-related brownie points, so basically he was on the " Fast Track" for promoting (and supposedly gearing up to apply for O's Training School-- or OTS see below).
I started calculating our future pay.

One year passed.

"Um, dear, when do you start doing the stuff for the O thing?"

Years 2 through 5 went buzzing by before I realized this guy had no intention of crossing over. There were all sorts of reasons. One time he told me that if he became an O, there would be things expected of me as an O's wife.
"Huh, Wha....?" "EXPECTED of me? Have you ever seen my reaction when told I have to do something?"

My mom says I have always been this way, kind of rebellious, strong-willed with a "sure sense of self". I had always thought that was a compliment, but as I get older, I'm thinking maybe not so much so.
Anyway, the way I saw it, I didn't sign anything and his work's training instructor kept reminding the newbie's that "this job didn't issue you a wife!" so what do you mean, "expected" of me?

There's a certain amount of dedication that is required to be the happy, bubbly woman left commandeering an entire company sections' better halves, while smilingly supporting her guy in all that he does. She's got to look you in the eye and appear thrilled that you are having another Pampered Chef/Tupperware/Happy Homemaker party that you want her to attend. She will be the one calling you when your husband is away and handing you tissues while bouncing your snotty-nosed kid on her lap at the monthly dinners designed to get you out of the house-- that she helped organize. and baked for. and attends. every month. She will be required to participate happily in gathering funds for the parties, gifts, etc... regardless whether or not her kids schedules are killing her or she's just too blue to do it. She will look impeccably coifed at all times. Even at the gym. She will never be found standing in the post office queue with two children hanging from her leg while the baby in her arms is stretching her blouse out just so to show everyone how she should've bought that new bra... a year ago.

No thank you. Keep your pay.

Of course, there's not a handbook that says any of this.
Not that I'd be able to read it if there was.
The  Hub's company speaks a different language that I haven't quite mastered--I'm still trying not to sound daft speaking Britain-ese.
They speak in acronyms. Really.

A conversation could go something like this:

"T--- , have you prepared for your T--- to the N----?"
"Prepared, Sir?"
"Have you made sure your wife has a POA so that she can take care of your POV for your P--?"
"Uh..."
"C'Mon T---., she'll need it for T--- and F-- if you're going to make your NLD for this P--".
"Sir?"
"And she may need it in case anything goes wrong with your F--, B-- or O--, too bad you won't be getting any S-- on this one."
"Go by legal and get this taken care of ASAP. You know this P-- is going to be great for you, the C--- where you're O----- is high ...oh, and for this T--, don't forget to pack your P--"

To make things worse, my husband works in an area where they use initials.
Our first job location was an eye-opener for me. Someone rang the house asking for A---n Diaz". I told him there was no A---n Diaz there. Do you know how bad it is for an guy when his supervisor can't reach him because he's given them the wrong number? I felt so bad for the guy. I don't know when it finally occurred to me that they were calling my husband. DS.

So, Mrs (Husband's job) I am not.
I whine when I'm sad and I whine when I'm not. I begrudge him his extra time doing his "brownie point" duties and get a little resentful as he stacks his accolades. I would've sucked as an Os' wife, but maybe I'm ok as the regular guy's wife. The reason he didn't want to cross over?
He loves his job and wanted to do it as long as possible-- he would've been behind a desk as an O. I told him the pay didn't matter as long as he was happy in his job.
Although, that extra O-- and B-- would help me hire a M A I D......

President Gordon B Hinckley

A great man passed away last night. He was 97 years old.

I decided long ago to leave politics and religion out of my blog, because let's face it, even though I may be willing to hear and learn about other's points of view, I know there are many out there uninterested in seeing things from mine. And I'm ok with that.
But I would be dishonest if I blogged today and didn't acknowledge someone who has made such a great impact in my life.
All week long I have read posts about Heath Ledger, and sat stunned through news clips of a young life ended so soon. Today I feel the same.
Sure, Pres. Hinckley was 97 and had led a full and accomplished life, but his humor and Christ-like countenance will surely be missed by people all over the world.
I hope you take a little time from blog reading today to just find out who he was and what his life was about.

My Drug of Choice

I read on someone's blog how comments left on a post is her "crack". I wish I knew where I read it so I could give her credit for such an accurate comparison.
I can be having one of my moodiest mornings and with a quick check of the email -- VOILA! mood gone.
You know who you are... to see your name in my mailbox brightens my day. I love "getting to know" you through your stories of your children, the trials of a parent's illness, the sad passing of your beloved cat, your struggles and accomplishments.
Here's something silly about me you may (not) want to know:
I almost got to the point of hero worship of one blog. I lurked for weeks, eagerly clicking on the quick link I made in her honor, anticipating what was going to happen with the dawning of each brand new day. I was never disappointed... well maybe once when she made several jokes about Republicans (wait! Don't go away, I'm a good person, really!)(oh, and the jokes were hilarious). I loved her wit and admired her great writing style.
So imagine how silly I (should've) felt when I yelled from my cold, little computer room, "Hey! I have a comment from ____!"
I was beaming (She knows me! She knows who I am! She read my blog!).
My dear husband, who occasionally has that look on his face (the look of 'is-this-normal-or-is- she-about-to-fall-of-the-edge?) smiled... it didn't reach his eyes.
I just couldn't expect him to understand. He doesn't drink, smoke or do any kind of recreational drugs---come to think of it, with his job, he rarely does prescriptions--- so it would be hard for him to understand how the woman who just had a mouth-frothing tirade over a box of tea cakes being opened (meant for said woman's Mum in the States) could come out of the room with a silly little euphoric smile on her face--over a stranger's comment.

So comment away.
I do look you up and I usually discover that there's a reason we were drawn to one another's blog.
I should warn you though, that I am pretty hard to get rid of.

I once met a nice lady on Ebay whose daughter's love for Disney's The Little Mermaid almost matched mine (she was only 6, there was still time). She purchased a Tyco Ariel doll from me that I had 6 of (don't ask). We've been pen-pals for 7 1/2 years now. We send birthday cards, photos of the kids, Christmas letters and I can't even list all of the thoughtful things she has done for me. How great is the internet? And how great is blogging?!

Introductions Please!

I know it's still your Thursday, but it's almost my Friday -- and not to undervalue the importance of Bad Poetry Thursday, I am submitting my Friday post now (I have big dreams for Fridays).

I have never really introduced you to my family.

I hate writing in code (J1, J2 etc...). If no children were involved, I'd be putting out name, address, phone number, and inviting you over for a cuppa.

But as a military family, we have to practice OPSEC at all times.
So, all sickos, perverts and terrorists, please leave this blog now.

Ahhh, that's better, a little less crowded (there's 9 of you now).

Anyway, in order of appearance in my life:


There's J1 or Son #1 or 19-year old.

He's the proof that doctors don't know everything. His Dad and I were both told we would probably not make any chillin's. Anyway, J1 is here and his Dad went on to have two girls in another marriage and I, well, The Hubby and I are just short of a baseball team.
J1 is incredibly talented. He writes his own music and can play 40 different instruments. He's amazing on the trumpet, and equally impressive on the drums. He records his songs by playing every instrument and then mixing them. Someday, I will put one of his songs on here. He's amazing-- a little Tom Delong-ish He wants to be a Herpetologist. He lives with snakes. Um, that sounded bad because he's currently residing in my Mother's basement while waiting for his apartment application to be approved. I really meant the slithering, sometime poisonous things.

The Hubby.
He appeared after J1.

I was relieved that I now had someone to feel safe with. I could actually fall asleep and NOT listen for every little sound... until the night the dog vomited all over the carpet next to our bed and I cleaned it-- large with child, exhausted, crying and with the light on--right next to him and he never stirred. So much for feeling safe.
He's VERY romantic and an all around great guy, and a left-brainer (teetering on Nerdy). He spends just about every waking moment trying to make me happy... a little daunting and cool at the same time.

J2

10 years younger than J1. He's got deep chocolate-brown eyes that sparkle when he's happy and are also the first clues when he's coming down with something. He's a perfectionist and has to master anything he tries. He was a natural in baseball, but came to England and began obsessing with football. He's also pretty impressive with the trumpet. His older brother passed his down to him and the music director was so impressed with J2's musical abilities, he recommended an advanced group for him to play in once a week. This boy LOVES his sister!
J2's got a tender heart, but doesn't show his emotions. When he cries, I know something terrible is happening. He's got a girl. and he's 9.

A1

About the time J2 was born, I was blissfully hormonal and said, "Let's have another one!" So 18 months later, we did. Hubby's dad had made a comment, "What's with all the 'J's?" So this baby got an "A" name. I was flown off of an island in the Azores at 34 weeks pregnant and spent the next month alone in Maryland. During one of their worst winters. ever. Knowing NO ONE and not having a car. I had a red flag on my medical charts for depression during the pregnancy and yet was left alone.
"Stork Nesting" is another brilliant Air Force program that needs a little tweaking.
A1 is very sensitive. Loud sounds, bright lights, any angry talk would really upset him as a baby. He was hospitalized with severe jaundice on day 6, so had to undergo various tests as he got older to see if there was any damage. I have often wondered if maybe he has Aspergers. He ticks so many of the boxes. He has the kindest, sweetest soul, and he's a math whiz.

A2
Imp.

This is the one that I don't mind when he sneaks up to be in my bed. He loves to cuddle. He's a ham--very funny little guy. I spent the first year of his life worrying that something was wrong with him. His eyes are wider set than everybody else's and he just always had a "duh...." expression. I thought my "old eggs" had had an impact on the poor little fellow.
I quit worrying when I looked at some of his Dad's pictures and saw the same expression. He loves school and is well-liked by the other kids. He has a passive nature I think... well, sometimes. If a kid at school takes something from him, his expression is, "what the heck?" but then he'll turn and move on to something else. Not at home. He has the LOUDEST cry and can really throw a tantrum. We're gonna keep him anyway.

Miss Ky

Surprise! This is what God says to you when The Hubby says "Hey honey, we're moving to England and we'll want to travel a lot, so I think I'd better book the vasectomy".
Thank (Him) that He knows better than we do.
I hated comments like, "Will you try for a girl?" (as if my four boys were a disappointment). Even after her birth when people would say (in front of my other children) "Well, you finally got your girl! You must be so happy." I would cringe.
Yes, I finally got my girl that I didn't even know I wanted. I am enjoying her tremendously. Except when she's climbing, tearing things up, throwing important things away, pouring cereal on the floor...
She's a beautiful sleeper.
No really, this is the happiest baby I have ever had the privilege of knowing.

So, that's my family.
My pride and joy.
The demise of my lovely skin and
the cause of my greying hair.

Now maybe my stories will mean more to you.
Or maybe now you'll go join the others who left at the beginning.