i went out to dinner with some of the other clearly crazy women who took on a role as a military man's counterpart.
i ended up asking pretty much everyone at the table how they met their man. the stories were REALLY interesting!! that's a truly unique thing to military life-- all the moving around gives you the opportunity to encounter a host of experiences and people that you would never otherwise have been exposed to.
and along that road, people often meet their spouses in some unexpected places.
like on a street corner. in fact, after this evening, i know TWO couples who met each other on a street corner. one was dared by a friend to talk to one of the men in those cute sailor uniforms, another decided to make a snide remark to a girl he walked past at an intersection.
the girl accepted the dare and has been married over 20 years.
the snide remark quickly turned into wedding vows.
i know someone who was at a bar with her girlfriends. a guy walked in, and a friend pointed him out and mentioned how cute he was. the (possibly intoxicated) girl said "i'm in love with him". they had never met.
they were married in less than a year.
one girl saw her husband for the first time in a dark theater and even then noticed how good looking he was. oddly, they figured out later, they became a couple on the exact same day as their first encounter, a year later.
there are a lot of horror stories in the military in terms of relationships. but there are so many AMAZING stories too. total chance, right place right time, situations that could never have happened if it weren't for the military's role in the life of one of the partners.
i would never have met my husband if it weren't for the military. and if not for the military, i wouldn't have two healthy little boys, comfortably provided for and cared for by a stay at home mom.
e comes home for 2 weeks pretty soon, his vacation from the deployment. and then he goes back to a slightly different job than he's been doing the last 4 months. where he's been has hindered our communication just a tad. where he's going is going to hinder it quite a bit. it's not going to be easy. and i know i'll curse the military more than once during this time, as i have more than once in the past.
but all in all, at the end of the day, there's a balance. there's joy, laughter, unity, grace, and hope. there are trials too, but that's true in every career, every walk of life, hm?
here's to all of the joy that has arisen because of the armed forces-- every street corner romance, every nourished mouth, every chance meeting of friends around the globe.
and here's to all the people who are showing up, little by little, at just the right time, that are helping me along this journey.
thank you.
24 March, 2012
20 March, 2012
Control
i will try to make this brief, for the simple fact that i know enough of my own anger to know that it can be both explosive and lengthy if left unchecked.
3 weeks ago i asked my primary care manager (re: my general physician) for a referral to a doctor who could place an IUD for me. i was called back a few days later and told they were quite capable of doing it at the clinic and their first open appointment was 2 weeks later. i said that was fine.
i very VERY specifically, and repeatedly, requested a Paragard IUD and was specifically and repeatedly assured that it would be a Paragard.
the morning of my appointment, after i got all checked in and was brought back to the room where placement was to happen, i sat waiting for them to input the last of my info in the computer.
the device was removed from its box, wrapped in a sterile towel, and was sitting next to me waiting.
the doctor came in to double check that i was in fact there for IUD placement. and then i was asked to get into the customary hospital gown.
and that's when i saw the box. the nurse had been holding it in her lap, faced away from me, and was about to move it to a counter to my left. it was a Mirena. and i very quickly said "that's a Mirena, i'm here for a Paragard" to which the nurse responded
"honey, they're the same thing"
no, no they absolutely are not. this turned into a nearly half hour long argument between myself, a nurse, and 2 doctors who treated me in a manner that i will not elaborate on, but was at the very least unbelievably condescending.
what happened in that room was illegal. a Mirena IUD is not a generic version of a Paragard. it is NOT an acceptable, similar substitute. it has hormones, a Paragard does not. they were going to place a long term device in my body without even telling me what it was, thus without my consent. and then when i called them on it, they tried to sweep it under the rug by simply assuming i would believe their assertion that the two were no different from one another.
your doctors, pharmacists, whoever, do NOT have the right to give you ANY medication without informing you of what it is, the way it is to be used, and its side effects BEFORE the medicine is administered.
what kills me about this is that their attitude about the whole thing tells me that they pull this garbage all the time. they obviously routinely tell women things like "it's the same" or use their awesome reasoning of "Paragard will make your periods heavier, you know that right?" as a way to scare women into taking the easier to obtain Mirena. (because that's what this came down to-- they have to order Paragards differently and it's a much longer and more complicated process than Mirenas, so when they made my appointment, they had Paragards in stock, but when i got there, they did not. and they wouldn't be in for weeks.)
why is it that our society fights enormous, public battles for our right to terminate pregnancies, but nobody seems even remotely concerned with the fact that a scary percentage of women clearly don't know the difference, or the side effects, from one pregnancy-prevention drug to the next? doesn't it make more sense to inform people completely, extensively, even exhaustively, on their options that will prevent pregnancies, so they can make an informed, thought out, and individually tailored decision about what they want? don't you think more women (and girls for that matter) would be more prone to keeping up with their birth control routine, whatever it may be, if they felt totally confident in what that routine was, understood it, had some say and control in it?
i do.
here is the link to the side effects from Mirena, a hormonal IUD that releases synthetic progestin. progestin is the main hormone used in the "mini-pill" as well.
here is the link to the side effects to Paragard, a non-hormonal IUD
here is a link to ONE version of the pill, a hormonal form of birth control that uses a combination of synthetic progestin and synthetic estrogen.
you only have one body. don't let a stranger tell you what's best for it.
3 weeks ago i asked my primary care manager (re: my general physician) for a referral to a doctor who could place an IUD for me. i was called back a few days later and told they were quite capable of doing it at the clinic and their first open appointment was 2 weeks later. i said that was fine.
i very VERY specifically, and repeatedly, requested a Paragard IUD and was specifically and repeatedly assured that it would be a Paragard.
the morning of my appointment, after i got all checked in and was brought back to the room where placement was to happen, i sat waiting for them to input the last of my info in the computer.
the device was removed from its box, wrapped in a sterile towel, and was sitting next to me waiting.
the doctor came in to double check that i was in fact there for IUD placement. and then i was asked to get into the customary hospital gown.
and that's when i saw the box. the nurse had been holding it in her lap, faced away from me, and was about to move it to a counter to my left. it was a Mirena. and i very quickly said "that's a Mirena, i'm here for a Paragard" to which the nurse responded
"honey, they're the same thing"
no, no they absolutely are not. this turned into a nearly half hour long argument between myself, a nurse, and 2 doctors who treated me in a manner that i will not elaborate on, but was at the very least unbelievably condescending.
what happened in that room was illegal. a Mirena IUD is not a generic version of a Paragard. it is NOT an acceptable, similar substitute. it has hormones, a Paragard does not. they were going to place a long term device in my body without even telling me what it was, thus without my consent. and then when i called them on it, they tried to sweep it under the rug by simply assuming i would believe their assertion that the two were no different from one another.
your doctors, pharmacists, whoever, do NOT have the right to give you ANY medication without informing you of what it is, the way it is to be used, and its side effects BEFORE the medicine is administered.
what kills me about this is that their attitude about the whole thing tells me that they pull this garbage all the time. they obviously routinely tell women things like "it's the same" or use their awesome reasoning of "Paragard will make your periods heavier, you know that right?" as a way to scare women into taking the easier to obtain Mirena. (because that's what this came down to-- they have to order Paragards differently and it's a much longer and more complicated process than Mirenas, so when they made my appointment, they had Paragards in stock, but when i got there, they did not. and they wouldn't be in for weeks.)
why is it that our society fights enormous, public battles for our right to terminate pregnancies, but nobody seems even remotely concerned with the fact that a scary percentage of women clearly don't know the difference, or the side effects, from one pregnancy-prevention drug to the next? doesn't it make more sense to inform people completely, extensively, even exhaustively, on their options that will prevent pregnancies, so they can make an informed, thought out, and individually tailored decision about what they want? don't you think more women (and girls for that matter) would be more prone to keeping up with their birth control routine, whatever it may be, if they felt totally confident in what that routine was, understood it, had some say and control in it?
i do.
here is the link to the side effects from Mirena, a hormonal IUD that releases synthetic progestin. progestin is the main hormone used in the "mini-pill" as well.
here is the link to the side effects to Paragard, a non-hormonal IUD
here is a link to ONE version of the pill, a hormonal form of birth control that uses a combination of synthetic progestin and synthetic estrogen.
you only have one body. don't let a stranger tell you what's best for it.
17 March, 2012
I am the VOOOOOOOOOICE!
happy st patrick's day! here is the obligatory link to what this day is REALLY about. now i don't have to feel guilty about encouraging people to go out and mindlessly drink for unknown celebratory reasons!
our house has been plagued by an enormous army of soldiers more commonly known as allergens.
i seriously envision them stabbing our nasal cavities with bayonets fashioned from twigs, covered in pollen poison.
i am still nursing, so the list of allergy medications i can take is limited- allergy medication by nature is meant to dry you out (runny nose, watery eyes, general oozing). it does not discriminate between phlegm and breastmilk, so many allergy medications can significantly deplete your milk supply. calvin basically refuses to accept that sippy cups have any purpose in life other than for him to fling around, so wiping out my milk supply seems like a very poor idea.
and by poor, i clearly mean on par with whoever thought up jelly shoes.
i can honestly deal with the discomfort. i gave birth naturally for heavens' sake! i am taking care of 2 children under the age of 3 by myself! i don't need no stinkin benadryl! i am woman! HEAR ME ROAR!!!
ok, hear me hack and cough up a wad of snot while my whole face turns splotchy shades of red and i begin to cry involuntarily and i wait for my chest to explode.
same thing as a roar.
the worst part of allergies for me is that i can't sing. in fact, the last 3-4 mornings i've woken up barely able to talk. my sweet, sweet coffee from my brother in law (BARISTA BROTHER IN LAWS ROCK!) has soothed my aching throat and the caffeine is probably the one thing that's really doing any work to relieve my constant headache.
coffee is my best, local, friend.
i have been singing more or less my whole life (which, if you recall my earlier post about being half deaf, is sort of a surprise to a lot of people). my brother dabbled a bit in a few stringed instruments and my sister got the double whammy and can both sing and play some music-machines.
singing is cathartic for me. i don't have much cause to sing in the house. i'm usually sort of preoccupied.
thankfully, with e gone i am the only one to run errands. also, our errands all magically have to be done at least 20 minutes away most of the time.
so i sing in the car.
it might be more accurate to say that i have a car-ride-long "the voice" style battle round with the radio.
and i am ALWAYS the winner.
adam levine would pick me EVERY time.
blake might not, but i don't trust his decisions anyway.
cee lo's cat would even be turned on.
and christina is begging me to let her sing on stage next to me
it's all true. every bit. don't question it.
there was a time when i would try really hard to look like i wasn't belting at the top of my lungs from the driver's seat. i was concerned that other drivers would make fun of me.
and then a few years ago, a few thoughts dawned on me:
1. nobody is paying that much attention to my car.
2. i will NEVER see those people on the road again, so what's the worst they can do? make fun of me to their friends who i will also never meet? ooooh the horror of strangers making fun of me and my never ever knowing about it!!!
3. it is really hard to hit all the dramatic notes of a song with your mouth half shut.
so now i have no shame. i'm busting it out like i'm dreamlover mariah carey, like i own the road and allllllll those people are my audience.
those honks are cheers of encouragement. the middle fingers? feverish clapping. they're on the phone calling their friends to tell them that they just saw the next american idol.
i'm the sh*t girl, i'm the biggest hit girl (see what i did there?).
but right now, i can't sing because my throat is under siege. so i sit hunched over in my car, bored, detached.
yes, even a touch depressed.
i have been eliminated from the battle round, voted off by POLLEN and the great state of alabama.
but don't you worry folks, i'll come back swinging. it'll try to break me, but you see, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger....
bwahahahaha
our house has been plagued by an enormous army of soldiers more commonly known as allergens.
i seriously envision them stabbing our nasal cavities with bayonets fashioned from twigs, covered in pollen poison.
i am still nursing, so the list of allergy medications i can take is limited- allergy medication by nature is meant to dry you out (runny nose, watery eyes, general oozing). it does not discriminate between phlegm and breastmilk, so many allergy medications can significantly deplete your milk supply. calvin basically refuses to accept that sippy cups have any purpose in life other than for him to fling around, so wiping out my milk supply seems like a very poor idea.
and by poor, i clearly mean on par with whoever thought up jelly shoes.
i can honestly deal with the discomfort. i gave birth naturally for heavens' sake! i am taking care of 2 children under the age of 3 by myself! i don't need no stinkin benadryl! i am woman! HEAR ME ROAR!!!
ok, hear me hack and cough up a wad of snot while my whole face turns splotchy shades of red and i begin to cry involuntarily and i wait for my chest to explode.
same thing as a roar.
the worst part of allergies for me is that i can't sing. in fact, the last 3-4 mornings i've woken up barely able to talk. my sweet, sweet coffee from my brother in law (BARISTA BROTHER IN LAWS ROCK!) has soothed my aching throat and the caffeine is probably the one thing that's really doing any work to relieve my constant headache.
coffee is my best, local, friend.
i have been singing more or less my whole life (which, if you recall my earlier post about being half deaf, is sort of a surprise to a lot of people). my brother dabbled a bit in a few stringed instruments and my sister got the double whammy and can both sing and play some music-machines.
singing is cathartic for me. i don't have much cause to sing in the house. i'm usually sort of preoccupied.
thankfully, with e gone i am the only one to run errands. also, our errands all magically have to be done at least 20 minutes away most of the time.
so i sing in the car.
it might be more accurate to say that i have a car-ride-long "the voice" style battle round with the radio.
and i am ALWAYS the winner.
adam levine would pick me EVERY time.
blake might not, but i don't trust his decisions anyway.
cee lo's cat would even be turned on.
and christina is begging me to let her sing on stage next to me
it's all true. every bit. don't question it.
there was a time when i would try really hard to look like i wasn't belting at the top of my lungs from the driver's seat. i was concerned that other drivers would make fun of me.
and then a few years ago, a few thoughts dawned on me:
1. nobody is paying that much attention to my car.
2. i will NEVER see those people on the road again, so what's the worst they can do? make fun of me to their friends who i will also never meet? ooooh the horror of strangers making fun of me and my never ever knowing about it!!!
3. it is really hard to hit all the dramatic notes of a song with your mouth half shut.
so now i have no shame. i'm busting it out like i'm dreamlover mariah carey, like i own the road and allllllll those people are my audience.
those honks are cheers of encouragement. the middle fingers? feverish clapping. they're on the phone calling their friends to tell them that they just saw the next american idol.
i'm the sh*t girl, i'm the biggest hit girl (see what i did there?).
but right now, i can't sing because my throat is under siege. so i sit hunched over in my car, bored, detached.
yes, even a touch depressed.
i have been eliminated from the battle round, voted off by POLLEN and the great state of alabama.
but don't you worry folks, i'll come back swinging. it'll try to break me, but you see, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger....
bwahahahaha
15 March, 2012
Promise
i want to be more consistent with posting. i really, really do.
i routinely come up with entire blog posts in my head while i'm driving around town tending to one of the many responsibilities i've been graciously given my by husband's absence.
and then i forget all of it.
so i try to come up with funny or interesting stuff on the fly.
and it's never funny.
or interesting.
or good writing.
i don't think it's writer's block. it feels more like life block i suppose. i could write if i had something worth writing about.
"are you saying your kids aren't worth writing about!?! YOUR PRIDE AND JOY, THE APPLES OF YOUR EYE!? YOUR FLESH AND BLOOD!?!!?! they aren't INTERESTING enough for you?!?!"
they are definitely interesting enough for me, but i don't feel the need to relive it all for the blogosphere. moreover, they aren't old enough to convey to me if they're ok with me broadcasting every detail of their lives on the interwebs.
also, i still have myself convinced that my life blog-worthy. i haven't given up the belief that i have unique experiences in life that are worth telling the world about.
though.... let's be honest.... i'm pretty cliche.
blogging army wife? cliche.
blogging mom of 2 young children? been done.
blogging lady who is sort of into healthy living? totally common. and done better than me.
blogging woman with a sense of humor? over it!
i don't have a whole lot of "hasn't been done before" to write about. no truly unique perspective over here.
but i really enjoy writing. so while i can't guarantee that every post i make will be epic, i'll try to keep up better.
promise.
i routinely come up with entire blog posts in my head while i'm driving around town tending to one of the many responsibilities i've been graciously given my by husband's absence.
and then i forget all of it.
so i try to come up with funny or interesting stuff on the fly.
and it's never funny.
or interesting.
or good writing.
i don't think it's writer's block. it feels more like life block i suppose. i could write if i had something worth writing about.
"are you saying your kids aren't worth writing about!?! YOUR PRIDE AND JOY, THE APPLES OF YOUR EYE!? YOUR FLESH AND BLOOD!?!!?! they aren't INTERESTING enough for you?!?!"
they are definitely interesting enough for me, but i don't feel the need to relive it all for the blogosphere. moreover, they aren't old enough to convey to me if they're ok with me broadcasting every detail of their lives on the interwebs.
also, i still have myself convinced that my life blog-worthy. i haven't given up the belief that i have unique experiences in life that are worth telling the world about.
though.... let's be honest.... i'm pretty cliche.
blogging army wife? cliche.
blogging mom of 2 young children? been done.
blogging lady who is sort of into healthy living? totally common. and done better than me.
blogging woman with a sense of humor? over it!
i don't have a whole lot of "hasn't been done before" to write about. no truly unique perspective over here.
but i really enjoy writing. so while i can't guarantee that every post i make will be epic, i'll try to keep up better.
promise.
06 March, 2012
My Husband
This post will have capital letters. Don't be alarmed, I'm writing it on my iPad and the iPad is not lazy like I am.
I write about e all the time. Well, I reference him, rather. He's my husband, so logically speaking there should be quite a few references to him- he's the father of my children and the person I chose to be my partner in this life.
It makes sense that he would be mentioned here and there.
E keeps me grounded. For every moment of neurosis I have, he has twice as many moments of zen. You could probably tell e that his left leg had been chewed off by a small army of wild turkeys and his only question would be "when can I get my space legs and do an iron man!?"
Early in our relationship e told me one of the most profound things I've ever heard that I don't believe was actually intended to make the kind of impact that it did.
E asked me "what is the coldest part of the day?"
I thought about it. I know him well enough to know that he loves to ask questions whose answers seem obvious, but aren't.
"just before sunrise?"
"you'd think that. But it takes 7 minutes for the sun's warmth to reach earth, so the coldest part of the day is actually 6 minutes after sunrise."
"Cool."
"So when I was at beast and I was freezing my ass off doing pt in the morning, I would just wait until I saw the sun and then I would tell myself 'only 6 more minutes!'"
If you know e, this more or less sums him up. He could choose to focus on the chill, choose to be irritated at already being cold for hours, to be angry at the inconvenience of distance and the limitations of heat's ability to travel to him. He could choose to be annoyed at having to exercise at 4am as a means for paying for college. He could whine, complain, groan and choose to be miserable.
But he never does.
Instead he chooses to accept the cold, the tired, the inconvenience as a means to an end, a fleeting discomfort that will be replaced by a great reward.
I have thought about this very conversation hundreds of times in our short 3 years of marriage, but it seems the most striking right now.
I feel like we as a family are in that 6 minute window. We aren't in total darkness by any means. The light visible, day has broken, hope is on the horizon. But the warmth hasn't reached us yet.
This deployment has us caught in a strange paradox where I truly believe we are both finding out how strong we are individually and tipping our hats to the other's strength, yet at the same time we are the most vulnerable. At least for me, I see my husband in a very new, encouraging, and frankly, very attractive way. In a sense it does feel as though my view of him has been in a state of twilight, and his absence brought daybreak with it, shedding light on all of the things I love, respect and cherish about him. All of the things I miss. All of the things he is missing.
There is light, but it seems to have become even colder. And I have a choice right now. I can focus on the chill. I can succumb to my anger that I've already been waiting for the warmth for months and I'm losing my patience with it. I can give in.
Or I can follow the precedent set by my husband. The one filled with and powered by grace, by love and trust. The one that says that 6 minutes is not so long.
Twelve months is not so long.
Not when the end of those 12 months holds the man that will carry me for a lifetime, my rock, my partner, my foothold, my love.
People tell me far too often that I am strong. I never know how to respond because it couldn't be farther from the truth. I could never be the woman, mother, wife, and person that I am if it weren't for the support of my husband. I am one half of a strong team.
I don't know if e thought that conversation was much more than a fun anecdote. I've never told him how deeply, drastically, and permanently it affected me and my perception of him.
It takes 6 minutes for the light you see to bring the warmth you feel. It takes time for hope to come to fruition. Don't give up.
I married that man.
I write about e all the time. Well, I reference him, rather. He's my husband, so logically speaking there should be quite a few references to him- he's the father of my children and the person I chose to be my partner in this life.
It makes sense that he would be mentioned here and there.
E keeps me grounded. For every moment of neurosis I have, he has twice as many moments of zen. You could probably tell e that his left leg had been chewed off by a small army of wild turkeys and his only question would be "when can I get my space legs and do an iron man!?"
Early in our relationship e told me one of the most profound things I've ever heard that I don't believe was actually intended to make the kind of impact that it did.
E asked me "what is the coldest part of the day?"
I thought about it. I know him well enough to know that he loves to ask questions whose answers seem obvious, but aren't.
"just before sunrise?"
"you'd think that. But it takes 7 minutes for the sun's warmth to reach earth, so the coldest part of the day is actually 6 minutes after sunrise."
"Cool."
"So when I was at beast and I was freezing my ass off doing pt in the morning, I would just wait until I saw the sun and then I would tell myself 'only 6 more minutes!'"
If you know e, this more or less sums him up. He could choose to focus on the chill, choose to be irritated at already being cold for hours, to be angry at the inconvenience of distance and the limitations of heat's ability to travel to him. He could choose to be annoyed at having to exercise at 4am as a means for paying for college. He could whine, complain, groan and choose to be miserable.
But he never does.
Instead he chooses to accept the cold, the tired, the inconvenience as a means to an end, a fleeting discomfort that will be replaced by a great reward.
I have thought about this very conversation hundreds of times in our short 3 years of marriage, but it seems the most striking right now.
I feel like we as a family are in that 6 minute window. We aren't in total darkness by any means. The light visible, day has broken, hope is on the horizon. But the warmth hasn't reached us yet.
This deployment has us caught in a strange paradox where I truly believe we are both finding out how strong we are individually and tipping our hats to the other's strength, yet at the same time we are the most vulnerable. At least for me, I see my husband in a very new, encouraging, and frankly, very attractive way. In a sense it does feel as though my view of him has been in a state of twilight, and his absence brought daybreak with it, shedding light on all of the things I love, respect and cherish about him. All of the things I miss. All of the things he is missing.
There is light, but it seems to have become even colder. And I have a choice right now. I can focus on the chill. I can succumb to my anger that I've already been waiting for the warmth for months and I'm losing my patience with it. I can give in.
Or I can follow the precedent set by my husband. The one filled with and powered by grace, by love and trust. The one that says that 6 minutes is not so long.
Twelve months is not so long.
Not when the end of those 12 months holds the man that will carry me for a lifetime, my rock, my partner, my foothold, my love.
People tell me far too often that I am strong. I never know how to respond because it couldn't be farther from the truth. I could never be the woman, mother, wife, and person that I am if it weren't for the support of my husband. I am one half of a strong team.
I don't know if e thought that conversation was much more than a fun anecdote. I've never told him how deeply, drastically, and permanently it affected me and my perception of him.
It takes 6 minutes for the light you see to bring the warmth you feel. It takes time for hope to come to fruition. Don't give up.
I married that man.
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