Planning a Move?

In the end, we didn't really make a decision about this, and in not making a decision, we decided by default to plow ahead and see what fate will have in store for us. I can't give you an exact, logical reason... we're just not ready to give up on this just yet.

In the meantime, we've set our sights on a more shorterm goal. We might be getting our wish and moving to Parris Island. Mike met with, called, tried his damndest to be annoying and bug them about getting us a house, and in the end it was to no avail. Finally, I called myself and was given the distinct impression that we were very last priority to get a house on Parris Island, and if we didn't do something about it, we would never move there.

So I wrote a letter. Which my mom revised. Brilliantly, I might add. She made the focus of the letter that our desire to be on Parris Island is really a safety concern for Michael. His long hours have him drivng on dark, winding roads at ridiculous hours of the day and night on very little sleep. The letter advocated that series commanders and drill instructors be given first priority for base housing on Parris Island due to their work hours. Of course, also mentioned in the letter was our initial hardship with the fleas and how we had been told that our house had been "recently renovated" with "all new flooring throughout the house". Both of these proved to be untrue. It's true that some houses in this neighborhood had been recently renovated with brand new flooring, but our house is far from one of them.

Mike sent his Commanding Officer a copy of it before we sent it out -- to see if he would like to be CC'd. He didn't, but he said to "fire away" and even recommended that we send it to the CO of the Air Station here as he is the one, apparently, with the power to make changes in policy for the housing.

It was sent. And we waited. And waited. And just when I shrugged my shoulders and thought, "Oh well. At least we tried." Mike came home from work and said his CO wanted to see him about the "housing letter.", but when Mike had gone to see him he was at the Airstation. The next day, Mike finally caught up with the CO who said our letter had made quite an impression on the CO of the airstation. Mike and his CO are scheduled to have a meeting with the head of housing next week.

Small victory. I think.

Of course, last night I lay awake in bed for several hours mentally planning our "move". The idea of boxes and everything having to be re-organized and re-placed in a new home had me reeling. I think it will be very worth it in the end, though, if they do in fact give us our wish and give us a house on the Island. No, I don't have any grand ideas that the cool kids will suddenly welcome me in their midst once I am living in their "hood", but having Mike so close by will be completely priceless... especially with the little baby on the way. I can't tell you how many times I have felt completely helpless here, stuck alone with my sick baby (or my sick self) with Michael stuck on Parris Island and not able to come by to help me out at all.

Crossing my fingers and praying this scheduled meeting next week goes our way, and if it does... praying that the move doesn't take the last bits of sanity I have left.

The Dawn of a New Age in Parenting

This weekend I had a bit of an eye-opening experience. I saw my little "angel" through the eyes of others... and it left me a little uneasy. Generally, when I take Sawyer places, I almost always leave all swelled up with pride in my amazing little man. This weekend, that was not exactly the case.

First of all, you should know that we went somewhere that was not child-proofed and had lots of stairs (which we do not have at our house so that means it's a complete novelty for Sawyer). There were also a lot of people packed into a small space AND there was a baby girl about 11-months-old.

When we arrived, Mike and I took our places. He was stationed on one end of the room and I was stationed on the other. For the first 45 minutes Sawyer literally ran from one end of the room to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Stopping only briefly to take the magnets and pictures off of the refrigerator, venture into the laundry room and zone immediately in on the ax that was in there, try to climb the stairs repeatedly, make himself comfortable in the master bedroom, grab at the food on people's plates, and make the little baby cry.

What? Yes. The other things? Those are completely expected and boy-age-appropriate, I would say. Admittedly, I think the kid-less couples were watching Sawyer's boundless energy and thinking, "Maybe I'm not ready for kids just yet" and the couples with kids were thinking, "I'm really glad that's not MY kid." But he wasn't being bad. He was just being... a toddler who does, in fact, have boundless amounts of energy and curiousity.

It was when he stepped on the 11-month-old's hand and made her cry. (Not on purpose, of course, but who wants to be the parent responsible for the kid responsible for making a baby cry? Not I.).... or when he actually took her toy phone and threw it AT her (right after I told him, "don't throw that") and made her cry again... that's when I started to feel a little uneasy.

I'm used to Sawyer being the little one you need to watch out for... not the big one who needs to be careful around the little one.

It appears we have entered a new dawn of parenting, folks. Discipline is starting to rear its ugly head, and I am at a complete loss. While I'm certain that Sawyer does indeed know what the word "no" means, he rarely, if ever listens. To be quite honest, most of the time when I tell him no, he smiles and does it again. I tell him no again. He does it again. I pull him away from said thing he isn't supposed to be doing/touching/whatever, he waits until I put my guard down and runs back to do it again. My guess is this is all pretty normal toddler behavior, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't shake my confidence just a tad.

Darn. Just when I had mastered the feeding/sleeping/clothing/taking care of basic needs bit of parenthood, now I have to add a new talent to my resume? Enforcer of rules. Teacher of proper behavior.
Wish me luck.

My Wild Man

What's in this Water, Anyway?!

You know how they say, "There must be something in the water" ? Well, I am beginning to get very suspicious of just that.

Since I found out I was pregnant, it seems that everywhere I turn I am running into another lady who is due within a month of me.

One of my friends is due in September, my neighbor down the street is due two weeks before me, Mike's boss's wife is due two days before me, the lady who organizes our Thursday playgroup is due one day before me, and another girl who goes to the Thursday playgroup is due in November....

That's not even counting the person who started this whole baby boom and is due in July.

Hmm. I don't know. Maybe someone should do an investigation. It seems the military is adding extra hormones into their water trying to build up a new generation of military for WWIII.

Either that, or I just happen to be living in a unique situation around a bunch of 20 and 30 year-olds who are in the baby-making phase of their life...

I prefer my first theory, though. It's much more interesting.

...BUT

...but then again. We've put so much into this life, how do we possibly just walk away? I was walking past the really nice houses on base and saw a Marine in the front yard playing with his kids. My first thought was, "Dang. He looks young." My second thought was, "He's probably just a Major, that's why."

One year. We're one measly year from *those houses. From *that status. From *guaranteed retirement and financial security. How do we just walk away without knowing for sure whether that life was possible for us?

Clearly I am very torn.

We would have just approximately 10 years left in the good old USMC if they let us stick around. My dad turned 65 yesterday. He will be 75 when it's time for Mike to retire. In those 10 years, who knows where we could be. We could be sent to Japan. Hawaii. Back to California. Places far far away, and my kids could grow up the first decade of their lives hardly ever seeing their grandparents... and then when we finally move back? Those grandparents will be older than I ever want to believe that they will actually be. That's painful for me to think about.

Or...

Or Mike could get his wish and become the Marine Corps Martial Arts Instructor in Quantico and we could ride out the rest of our years close to the fam.

You never know.

There are many possibilities and what ifs to consider when making huge life decisions such as this one. In the end, I think it will come down to following our hearts. Mike followed his heart when he decided to stop flying helicopters and I supported him 100%. Neither one of us regrets it now - even though it is the very decision - the very reason we are faced with this predicament today.

I do believe it will all work out how it's meant to in the end. In the meantime, we just have to decide how hard we want to fight for one outcome or the other. Or if we want to fight at all, and just let fate take over.....

The Promise of Maybe

In December we were blindsided with the news that our worst fear had come true. Mike had been passed over for promotion. It was a shock since he wasn't actually supposed to be up for Major for another year, but thanks to a dramatic downsizing in the military they looked at a larger pool of people, thus promoting many less than usual and dooming the rest for "terminal" status.

He does have another shot at promotion next year, but we're not very hopeful. His dad, a retired Two Star Admiral in the Navy has lots of connections, so we're getting everyone and their brother with any kind of status to write letters of recommendations for Mike's file. It's a last ditch effort. None of us has any idea if it will work.

And as time passes, I don't know if I want it to work.

Mike is pretty worried about the future. Much more worried than I am, which is very strange. I imagine it would be pretty tough for him - feeling like all the pressure to have a viable income is on his shoulders. To be honest, it really is. I don't plan to go back to work until these kids are old enough for pre-school and since one of them is still cooking in my tummy, well, that's a while down the road yet.

Yesterday, Mike texted me what the voluntary separation incentive pay is for his rank. He's an officer but not eligible for retirement yet. Thanks to their attemps at downsizing the military is desperate to get rid of him and others like him. The voluntary separation incentive is more zeroes than either of us has ever seen on any check made out in our names, I'll just say that. If we wait until we find out that Mike indeed did NOT make Major again (assuming that's what we'll find out come December) that separation pay halves. It's still a nice chunk of change, but it's half of what we could get if we just cut our losses.

I was thinking about it today quite a bit and I'm not sure entirely what the reason is, but the thrill of the nomadic lifestyle has really run out for me. I yearn to put down some roots - real, long-term, deep roots. I desperately desire to be near my family. Maybe I'm done with this military life. Maybe that voluntary separation incentive is just enough for me to say, SCREW financial security and Mike being able to retire at 42. I'm ready to get out of this world, and I'm ready now!

I know it's a really tough economy out there right now, but Mike has set his heart on law enforcement, and with his military background, I really feel that he has it in the bag. That and he can charm the pants off anybody, so I know he'll kill it in an interview. I'm really not very worried about him finding a job. Yes, we will take a HUGE paycut. Probably by half. So there are many things to consider...

But.. thanks to the wake-up call in December we have really scrambled and gotten our financial situation in pretty good working order. Everything is paid off except for our wretched HOUSE in San Diego and my measly little student loan (which will be the last loan I ever consider paying off bc it is NOTHING. thanks mom and dad!!!!!). But with our pretty separation incentive, a free place to live in Maryland (for a while anyway - thanks to Mike's parents and his aunt and uncle for hanging on to Grandma's house after she passed away), and if Mike continues on in the reserves I think we will have just enough to make it work. Then we just need to hang on long enough for the housing market to go up (just a little bit? please? for the love of GOD!!) and we can unload our San Diego house, hopefully for a decent profit...

I'll go back to school using the GI bill and be ready to start a career when pre-school time starts for these youngins....

and... maybe it will work.
Maybe.