It’s been a full-moon, thunderstorm kind of month around here.

If it can go wrong, it has.  And normally all at the same time.

It’s also not just me.  My fellow military spouses are experiencing some real low lows this spring, too.

Broken appliances.  Speeding tickets.  Family emergencies.  Car accidents.  Power outages.  Sick kids.  Migraines.  Houses that seem to keep getting messier.

They are plaguing everyone.

And it was at one such desperate coffee date with friends – our kids milling about and tossing God knows what at each other, but who cares because they were happy – that we all discussed it.

How downright bad it had been.

Comically bad, in fact.

And we got to thinking.

On submarines, our sailors earn “fish,” or “dolphins.”  Basically, it’s their submarine warfare pin that tells everyone they did a bunch of work and evaluations and went before a board and were deemed submarine-warfare qualified.  It makes sure they are ready to do the work that lies ahead of them.

But no one makes sure the spouses are qualified for this life.  No one tests us, preps us for what the years of coming and going and little to no contact will look like.

Can you imagine some poor new Navy wife, nervously perched in front of a board of seasoned spouses, sweating profusely as they fired off questions like, "It’s 2 a.m., and you hear a loud bang. Another appliance has exploded.  Just then your 3-year-old, startled by the noise, climbs into bed and vomits on you. What is your next step?”

Or “Your new baby has a crucial doctor’s appointment on the Navy base, and you turn around to realize your dog has eaten your power of attorney and your military ID.  Your ombudsman is out of town and can’t be reached.  Who do you contact next?”


I’m frankly not sure I could pass that kind of board, even after all these years of fighting some of those same fights.

In fact, I’m not sure there’s any real way to train for this life.
It’s true trial by fire.  And too bad, too.

And even if I had some kind of military spouse warfare pin on my stained Mom T-shirt, it probably wouldn’t mean much.

Stuff would still break; kids would still vomit, and deployments would still suck.

So here’s to hoping that some months are better than others.
 

As presidential candidates step forward in the coming months, state and local politicians will be preparing for elections too. Rather than following the races via media, participating as a campaign volunteer  can be a great way to not only gain work skills, but also use your newfound expertise to secure a permanent position.  
 

Since campaigns have such a broad range of positions and budgets, you can focus on one particular area of skills working with many others in a national or state campaign, or, in local campaigns where there may be fewer volunteers. You also may be able to work  in several different areas of the campaign, picking up multiple skills to add to your resume.

“A national campaign is a great way to gain experience, but when you get into local campaign work, the budgets aren’t nearly as big, sometimes non-existent. This where your creativity really has to shine, “ said Ted Hughes, former County Commissioner. “A local campaign usually has a smaller staff, so you may be writing marketing or mailing pieces one minute and making phone calls the next. You can wear many different hats.”

Hughes, a longtime cattle farmer and former Navy sailor, also mentioned passion as a valuable tool you can gain from volunteer work in politics.

“It’s one thing to just work for a campaign, but to work towards electing someone you truly believe in and give them your time and energy, because you’re not getting paid, is something you may already have when you begin to volunteer but can also pick up from those around you. Really believing in that person not only helps you get the job done, but makes you more marketable potential future employee” Hughes said.

Campaign volunteering can also get you out of your comfort zone. Besides meeting and connecting with other volunteers who are working toward the same goal, you will encounter meetings, rallies, and forums, which are just a few of the great opportunities to talk with others, highlighting the advantages of voting for your candidate. You can also learn how to persuade others to become involved, as well as get some experience working as a team member.

Each of these scenarios will help to develop skills you can add to your resume.

“People skills are so important," Hughes said.

Organization is another important job skill you can acquire on the campaign trail. The grueling work of making phone calls to potential voters is one likely job you will do, but you may also schedule the candidates' appearances, interviews and photo sessions. This type of calendar juggling can prepare you for a variety of future positions. You may even get the chance to delegate chores during those long hours of preparing mailers, posting signs and poring over registered voter lists.  

In times of higher unemployment rates, the job market has become increasingly more competitive. Just doing some volunteer work can really give you the extra boost your resume may need to put you at the top of an employer’s list.

“These days, there are always multiple candidates for a job,” Hughes said. “Anyone who has the desire and the skill to be successful in campaign work would be able to convert their energy and skill into most any job. And the skills learned from this type of volunteer work could very well be the type of person an employer would choose over other candidates for the position. Organizational skills, the ability to work as a team member, the ability to express your opinion to others in a manner that causes them to consider supporting your candidate, honing your writing skills and the ability to persuade people to get involved in government and civic endeavors ... these are all things that would be valuable to an employer. These could increase anyone’s chance of finding a job, or even moving a few steps up the ladder of success at their current job.”

Even though there’s no extra money to be made, some political volunteer hours in the next few months may give you the competitive edge you need to enhance your resume, and maybe even make a change for the better in your job situation.

Happy Military Spouse Day!

We appreciate your service. Yes, you. Yes, your service.

The sacrifices that military spouses make are enormous. You give up stability, careers, time with family, time with friends and time with our spouse. All too often, you give up your spouse entirely in the greatest of sacrifices.

You are the machine that keeps the nation’s warriors ready to protect and fight.

And today, the nation thanks you.

So please, while you are driving kids to school, picking dirty boots up, washing uniforms, running cupcakes to the family support group meeting and being roped into another volunteer position that you really don’t have time for, know that the work you do is important. You are important.

And we thank you.

I wake up to a few text messages every morning.

“Want coffee? I’m hitting Dunkin’ Donuts before I see you at school.”

One message often reads, “Going to the store. Need anything?”

And sometimes, I’ll get the ever-necessary, “The kids are driving me crazy.  Wanna make pizzas and watch movies at my house tonight?  Better than being alone.”

Last week, I had a fellow military spouse invite me over for a playdate and give me her own bed to nap in while she watched the kids and popped popcorn, knowing I was pregnant, tired, and over deployment that week.

This is my everyday life.

My husband may be underwater and out of contact, but I am not alone.  Ever.

My normal is a family that was thrown together out of sheer chance and a pinch of divine intervention.

My normal is a series of text messages checking on me, offering help, telling me a funny story, and empathizing that sometimes, this life can really suck.

My normal is my fellow military spouses.

It’s a friend I met at the library during my husband’s first deployment, who has come and rescued me from a giant snake in my garage that had me paralyzed in fear.

It’s a friend who made me corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick’s Day and then held my hair while I threw it all up after morning sickness took hold.

It’s a friend who hosted a garage sale with me and dragged tables full of junk in and out of the surprising 5 a.m. rain storm, with babies on our backs still sleeping in footy pajamas, both our husbands deployed.

This is what being a military spouse looks like.

It can be lonely and frustrating, and sometimes, even a little apocalyptic.

But it’s also the only life where we find such a safety net.  Because though we are lonely, we are not alone.

Though we are frustrated, we are always supported.

And though the world can often seem like it’s crashing down around us, there’s always another fellow milspouse there, holding a broom and sweeping up the rubble while handing you the ziti for the dinner you forgot to cook.

When I moved to Georgia, the biggest fear I had was that we didn’t have a Target in this town.

It’s laughable now, but I was worried that when things would inevitably get boring, I wouldn’t be able to entertain myself without the Target dollar section.

And then I realized what it meant to live among women and men living my life, bumps and bruises included, every single day.

There’s always someone to call.  Someone to make sandwiches for dinner with.  Someone to meet at a park or a pool or a play place.

When I had a miscarriage, I told my military spouse friends first.  When my kids are sick, they are the first ones I text.

I don’t have guilt when asking them for help or venting.

I know they’ve been there and will be there, and soon enough, I’ll be the one rushing to the pharmacy to fill their prescription and buy them some chicken soup for their dinner.

It’s an unspoken creed; it’s a code.  It’s an honor to serve them like they’ve served me.

And while I wouldn’t be here without my husband and his career, even he doesn’t get what it’s like to be a military spouse.

We are our own force. 

We come and go out of each other’s lives, sad to be leaving and scared the magic won’t happen again at our new base or station.

And then it does.  And the fear goes away and once more we are swept up in honoring, serving, and protecting each other while our spouses leave to do their jobs, not understanding but counting on that safety net; that force we are as military spouses.

That is why I love being a military spouse.

It is a strength and fraternity unique to our paths, to the way we serve.

And because of it, I have met so many amazing women and men who walk alongside me every day, holding me up while I support them in return.

The beauty of the web of support, and that we all weave, is what keeps this life bright and happy, rather than sad and lonely.

It’s a love like no other, disguised often in a much-needed cup of coffee on a rushed school day morning.

 

Editor's note: Friday is Military Spouse Appreciation Day. We count down with a blog each day from our own dedicated staff members as they recount why they love this crazy life.

A few weeks ago, I asked my co-family readiness group leader (who happens to be a man) what his favorite thing about being an Army spouse is.

His answer was a long drink of coffee and giving me the slow blink.

To be honest, his slow blink got me thinking: I didn’t really have an answer, either. There are a lot of things that I like, and a lot things that I am pretty stinkin’ proud of. Nothing really stood out as a favorite, though, and that bummed me out. So I tossed the question out to a few of my local Army spouse friends via Facebook message, and got replies over the next few hours.

As I read through them, I tried to think of a way to summarize them that wouldn’t damage the beauty of their sentiments. And when I say that, I mean that I really, really stared at the message window and racked my brain for a way to accurately convey their feelings.

Then it hit me …  no matter how eloquent the writer, no amount of rephrasing could ever capture the camaraderie and comfort we’ve found in each other.

Because these people have made such an impact on my life, and inspired a piece that I simply cannot stop smiling about as I write, they deserve for their words to be read just like mine will be. So here it is:

            “The friends that I've made, traveling to all kinds of cool places that I         wouldn’t normally go.” –J.D.

            “I really LOVE how little drama there is with the wives and how most of them      try to help each other and lift spirits instead of knocking them down ... I love   hanging out with the girls.” –B.H.

            “And definitely the amount of pride I have when I tell people that my        husband is a soldier.” –J.D.

            “I like how different we all are. We come from all over the country and that           makes for some great interesting friendships.” –L.W.

            “We share a common bond. A bond of friendship and sisterhood. One where you know you can depend on the other no matter the reason.” –M.R.

            “Seriously though, before marrying the military, I thought I was proud to be          an American ... I had no idea. The amount of pride and patriotism you feel is             beyond description.” –J.C.L.

            “^^What she said.” –J.D.

As I was writing this, I realized that the people I go to for answers to questions like this just happen to be the answer I was looking for.  We are a both a diverse and similar group of people. To put it plainly, as a group, we are an oxymoron.

I get to be part of a family of walking, talking, ride-or-die for each other oxymorons … and that is my very favorite thing about being an Army spouse.

Editor's note: Friday is Military Spouse Appreciation Day. We count down with a blog each day from our own dedicated staff members as they recount why they love this crazy life.

I sat down at my computer a few days ago to tell you why I love being a military spouse. I wrote something about the opportunities this life has given me, and the people I have met and the friends I have made.

And then, I threw it out.

I pondered telling you about my kids, and how they have survived this life and been made stronger for it. I considered writing about the pride I feel as a military spouse. I thought about telling tales of hard deployments and marital strife.

None of it felt right.

None of it was completely true.

I am a military spouse, yet I rarely call myself that. And I especially never call myself an “Army wife.” There’s nothing wrong with those labels, but they are just that.

Labels.

In the minds of many, those labels conjure up one of two images: The gung-ho patriotic spouse who decorates her house in red, white and blue and can fix her dishwasher after watching a single YouTube video, raise three well-behaved kids on her own, work out at the gym and look gorgeous, every single day.

Or, we are broken people, struggling to keep our marriages together and our minds sane, trying to save our kids from a life scarred by deployments and danger, questioning our nation’s leadership and barely keeping it together, every single day. 

But in reality there is a gray area where most of us live, caught between the pride and honor and self-reliance of being a military spouse, and the heartbreak and struggle and doubt that come along with this life.

Most days I love being a military spouse. But a lot of days, I don’t.

This isn’t the exact life I envisioned for myself, but it is one I’m glad and grateful to have.

It’s a life that has forced me to look inward, to grow up, to be independent, and to realize that sometimes it’s OK to be not OK.

It’s about realizing that the gray area is a pretty good place to be.

The gray area is where we lose ourselves, and find ourselves.

It’s where we raise a glass to celebrate each other, or put out our arms and cry with each other. It’s where we question why we ever agreed to this life, and thank our lucky stars that we did.

There are still things waiting for us in the gray area. Things we haven’t yet experienced. Things that will lift us up, or break our hearts, and put us on a roller coaster ride of expectation, fulfillment and disappointment.

No day there is ever the same.

The gray area makes us better, stronger, wiser.

It shows us the good, the bad, the ugly – in ourselves and everyone around us.

That’s what I love most about being a military spouse: the unknown, the experiences survived and thrived in, and the ones yet to come.

For all its hardships and laughter and sadness and elation, I love the  life I live in the gray area.

Last fall Christine Gold moved to Colorado from Georgia at the very beginning of her third trimester for a Navy PCS with her husband and their first-born daughter.

“It sucked,” she joked. “Being huge, tired, having to pee always. Especially with the altitude; it was so hard on my body.”

She struggled to find a healthcare provider that met her needs, and she didn’t want to waffle between providers and not receive the frequent medical checks and appointments she and her baby needed at the end of pregnancy.

The difficulties continued to stack up: she had to line up childcare for her daughter for when she went into labor, despite knowing no one in her new home and living many states away from her family and her in-laws; she had to find a pediatrician to take care of the baby after the birth even though she was totally unfamiliar with the base clinic.

Moving with the military is stressful enough, but PCSing while pregnant can add a whole different level of stress to the game.

Kimberly Davis, ombudsman for a U.S. naval submarine command in Kings Bay, Ga., said she refers all pregnant women who newly report to the command to Fleet and Family Support Center.  They offer free classes and can help situate new mothers with the supplies and resources they need to budget for children and parent little ones.

They also need to quickly get in touch with Tricare, she said, to find out what providers will take them in the area.

“If they are in a different region, they will have to enroll in the new region, anyway, so it’s probably easier to have her talk to Tricare, anyway, to get all of those things worked out at once,” Davis said.

Megan Correa is the director for MOM4USA, a military outreach ministry that serves lower enlisted military families at Camp Pendleton and the surrounding Southern California area.  MOM runs a monthly food drive for military families in need, as well as provides free donated items when they can.

Correa also refers to many military-sponsored family support resources, including Navy-Marine Corp Relief Society and their “Budget for Baby” class, where new parents are provided with clothing, blankets, coupons, and other necessities.

She also has families contact WIC, Headstart, and other government agencies that can make sure new mothers new to the area get their physical needs met.

Her organization also gives away a layette set to expecting parents who contact her.  She saves lots of reading and other resources to send to new mothers, and a lot of the family readiness organizations and the base chaplain contact her to see what she can do for new families, most ranked E1 through E5.

“With the economy tanking, we don’t have as many baby items, baby furniture,” she said.

But when she gets some in, she contacts the family readiness organizations to find them a home.

She recommends new parents who have just PCSd get involved as soon as they can with the family readiness groups and other local ministries.  Those organizations often lobby to help pregnant mothers get what they need.

Sharon Gerdes, vice president of Post-Partum Support International, recommends pregnant mothers not just prepare for the baby to come but for the possible complications that can arise post-partum, as well.

Military wives can be more susceptible to post-partum depression, anxiety, and other mood and anxiety disorders associated with the post-partum period.

Military spouses who PCS right into a deployment situation, like many do, risk being isolated during the birth of their child, being away from family, friends and their spouse.

Women who give birth without their partner are twice as likely to experience post-partum depression, Gerdes said.

PSI has a group of military coordinators who can help pregnant and post-partum women find help in their region and within their specific branch; they’re specifically trained to help military spouses.  They also have free support via the Internet and telephone.

Gerdes recommends getting in touch with some kind of support once you’ve moved, but before the baby is born.  Someone who can take older children to their activities or school.  Some other families to help bring you meals, or someone to come hold the baby so you can take a nap.

“Schedule as much as you can in advance,” she said.

Gerdes said if you’re not sleeping, feeling weepy, overly anxious, or having visions of harming yourself or others, you should seek help.

Even if something just isn’t right, you can call Post-Partum Support International or get in touch with local resources you found before pregnancy.

“The mental health of mom is important for the health of baby,” she said.

A little known milestone passed by last month.

Female soldiers are participating in the Army’s storied Ranger School at Fort Benning, Georgia. On day one, 19 enrolled. After 10 days, eight remained – a success rate that is equal to the men.

Observers are at the school to make sure the women receive no special treatment. They are indistinguishable from the men in the course due to their buzzed hair, a requirement for attendance.

The doors were open to women for this session only as the military continues to research ways to integrate women into combat billets. A report is expected to be presented to the Pentagon at the end of the year when commanders will decide which of the military’s toughest units will begin accepting America’s toughest women.

But, did you see it on the news? Did it fill your Facebook feed?

Nope, mine neither.

Maybe because we have finally reached a point where it doesn’t really matter.

The military has always been ahead of the game when it came to integration. In military neighborhoods families of all race, backgrounds and social status are intermingled and they make it work. Promotions are based on points and performance. There is little room to snub someone because of their skin color or gender.

And while the rest of the nation argues, the DOD has extended full benefits to gay and lesbian families with nary a wrinkle.

They are ahead of the game.  And though allowing women into combat roles has been delayed far too long, it may be here at just the right time.

Your momma wears combat boots? Big deal.

Women are strong, women are fighters and much of the world already knows that. The idea that women can champion any job may be so well-accepted that a handful of gals surviving the hell that is Ranger School, where only 3 percent of soldiers earn the coveted tab, is kind of a no news event.

Of course some of them are going to make it? Why are we even asking the question?

Last month when my daughter’s scout troop visited the Blue Angels, there was no mention that the unit has just received its first female pilot.

Seeing a woman on the flight line was no big deal.

And that is a wonderful thing.

Congrats and god speed to all the strong, brave women blazing trails in our military and beyond. Your efforts may no longer make the front pages, but you carry every one of us with you on your journey. And we are forever grateful.

I believe in the brave deployment face.

Smiles.  Grin and bare it.  Just keep plugging.

It’s not so bad, I tell people.

And then I attend a wedding.

I really love weddings.

Except when I attend them alone, my husband deployed underwater like he invariably is.

People don’t know what to do with me at weddings.

I get a lot of looks of pity, especially if my children are with me.  When the unavoidable couples dance comes up, I get foisted off onto some table of widowed grandmothers, who pat my hand and tell me it’s all right. 

Then there are the people who don’t know what my marital status is.  They ignore my wedding ring and young offspring and assume I’m single.  Or divorced. 

More than once, I’ve been pushed into the group of single ladies hoping to catch the bouquet of flowers, my polite protests ignored.

I get left out of family photos. Or worse yet, at my own brother’s wedding, they arranged everyone with their partners and then cried, “OK! Now for my single person!” and plopped me in front of everyone, a step lower than the rest of my family, my children standing in front of my sister-in-law and other brother, the photographer assuming they were theirs.

So, in short, despite my natural inclination to enjoy parties based on love and merriment, I end up really disliking weddings.

And, my friends, it is currently wedding season.

I have attended two without my husband so far, one with my children in tow.  I didn’t consume a drop of alcohol and felt extremely hungover at the end of that ordeal.

And this week, I attend another.  In which I am one of 12 bridesmaids and my daughters are two of six flower girls.

My husband, meanwhile, will still be stuck under the deep blue.

Because of course he would be.  It’s my best friend’s wedding; the biggest wedding I am likely to ever attend.  The last wedding I will likely ever be a bridesmaid in. 

Military Murphy’s Law says there’s no way he would be home for that.

So, I will be striking out alone, my girls adorable and glowing in little dresses while I bribe them down the aisle at 8 p.m. with lollipops and ponies and anything they want as long as they don’t make a scene at this fancy evening wedding.

I am quite certain that is not something you’re supposed to do while teetering on stilettos you don’t normally wear and in a dress you don’t normally fit into.

It’s going to be one heckuva party.

Too bad I’ll be too frazzled to enjoy it.

I can’t wish an end to this deployment, so for now, I just need wedding season to be over.

Before it takes me and my matching, taffeta-wearing sanity with it.

By Tiffany Shedd

Spring has sprung. Flowers are blooming everywhere. The air is filled with the sound of mowers, and, the dreaded pollen. It’s time of new beginnings. But what about those new beginnings you started way back in the dark, cold days of January? Those New Year’s resolutions? How are those going? I, for one, will admit it. We have experienced some setbacks.

In January, we began the slow process of weaning my son off his epilepsy medication. He had been seizure free since October 2013, and his neurologist decided we could try to go off the medicine. We had successfully weaned him off one of his medications earlier in the year, so we were on board. We took his medication down by very small steps and it took two months to get to zero, but by March, he was medication free.

It was a scary time for us as a family. I know I was extra vigilant about watching him for any signs that he may be experiencing any seizure activity. I was excited when we got down to zero and started ticking off days in the no medicine month of March. We got all the way through snowy March,

But April arrived with lots of showers and, unfortunately, a seizure.

He had been a little sick for a week, but he was his usual busy toddler self. We were getting ready to go to our Unit picnic and egg hunt, and he just started acting off. I know that most parents will understand exactly what I mean when I say “off”. I know my son and the tiny intricacies of his behaviors, and they just weren’t quite right that day. My paranoid mommy brain had had a suspicion that he may have a seizure because of his illness, but it hadn’t happened yet, so I tried to just push my fears aside.

We went to the picnic, and as I was putting our dishes on the table, my son and husband went to play. Within 15 minutes, he was losing motor skills, and we were headed to the hospital. On the way to the car, my tiny, precious boy went into a full tonic clonic (formerly known as grand mal) seizure. Selfishly, I am glad I didn’t have to witness it up close. The memories of his previous seizures bring tears to my eyes (I am typing through them now actually). Seeing your child sick is awful. Not being able to help your child is probably the one of the worst things a parent can ever experience.

Thankfully, his seizure was short and there was only one. We got a clean bill of health from the emergency room, and his neurologist was very quick with his response. This was a major setback for us. We had hoped that the seizures wouldn’t return when we went off the medicine.

Even though we felt defeated by this setback, we couldn’t let it shut us down. We have to keep moving forward and making new plans to help our son, just like so many of you who have special needs family members do every day. Setbacks can be extremely hard when you don’t expect them. It would be really easy to rage against everyone and be negative, but what good does that do? I am not saying that I didn’t go in the bathroom and have a good cry, because I did. But then I wiped my eyes and put a smile on my face for my son, who was upset and scared. You have to find something positive to focus on and move forward.

Luckily, we are stationed in an area with an abundance of great medical services, so we are able to receive excellent health care for our son. Our neurologist is actually the head of pediatric neurology at a wonderful hospital. We’ve been working together for the last few weeks to build a new plan to best suit my son’s needs.

Don’t let a setback turn into a roadblock. Figure out a way to get around it. It may not be easy or quick, but it’s the only option. Forward, no matter how you get there - sideways, diagonal, up and over - is the only option.