Gay men and women are now allowed to serve beside my husband. The DOD now considers their partners to be my equal in the world of military spouses.

Sorry if I offend you, but, it sounds good to me.

About two years ago military spouses across the country received a detailed, long and, let’s be honest, boring, 44-question survey about our thoughts on the idea of allowing gay military members to serve openly and end the don’t ask, don’t tell policy.

I put a huge x-mark across the entire survey and wrote in the comments section, “Please stop wasting tax money on surveys and studies and just let qualified people, all qualified people regardless of sex, race or orientation serve. Gay people don’t bother me, but your surveys are driving me crazy.”

Apparently I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

The policy has since been dropped and gay and lesbian families are slowly making their way into the FRG meetings. Departing Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta also extended several benefits to same-sex spouses and unmarried partners earlier this month. Like traditional military spouses these individuals will now have access to on-base child care, healthcare facilities and commissaries. They will be issued military ID cards.

Grass-roots organizations have claimed that opening this door would demoralize the troops and strip the family support groups of their purpose.

They continue to send surveys, speculate and ask questions.

I have only one: will you be there?

When a military family in your neighborhood or in your unit suffers a tragedy, either on the battlefield or off, will you be there? Will you arrive with a willingness to help with meals, arrangements or just an ear to listen?

Will you pitch in to help decorate and fundraise for all those military balls?

Will you wear the colors of your partner’s unit proudly? Will you volunteer when help is needed, even if you don’t really feel like it? Will you be a team player? Will you be part of our extended family?

Will you have my back, and accept my help and friendship in return?

If the answer is yes, then that is all I need to know.

It doesn’t matter if you are male or female, gay or straight. What matters is that you are willing, in this crazy military life, to support those around you, often put the unit before yourself and be part of our extended family.

This life does not work unless we all work together. If you’re up for that challenge that is all that should matter.

So, welcome. I’m happy to have you here.

Today became my long run day. Normally, I have short runs on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. On Fridays or Saturdays I complete my long, training runs. But today, I woke up sick and tired. I didn't want to go to the gym and run, let alone workout with the trainer. My sweet soldier had given me a pass to take it easy today, but apparently, I was unwilling to accept it.

I threw everyone onto their respective buses and headed to the gym. I knew as soon as I got started that there was a good chance I would feel better. And you know what, I was right. However, something else very interesting began to happen.

I am training to run long distances at a particular pace. It is my "happy pace" and that is where I want to be. Since I didn't feel well I decided not to incorporate hills into my run and put the treadmill on 0.5 percent to level it out. As I began to run, I felt my chest loosen up. I felt my legs find their stride. It really felt good.

The plan was to run five miles. I reached 2.5 miles and realized that nothing hurt. I couldn't believe it. I heard my brain tell my heart that it was almost three miles, and 'If you can do three, then you can do five.’

I began to feel a pain in my side as I started that third mile and slowed to a walk to get some water. That didn't last long. My brain told my heart to dig deep and turn it up for that last mile!

And that is what I did.

I began to run a full minute faster for three-fourths of a mile and then all I wanted to do was finish! I turned up the pace to a minute faster. I heard my brain tell my heart, 'Come on, Sarah. You've got this. You can do it. Leave it all out there and don't hold back!' When I saw the screen read 5 miles, I threw my hands in the air to cross my virtual finish line! I was so excited!

I hit the cool down button. As I dropped to a walk and finished, I could feel myself moving with purpose.

We can always look back at what we did

All these memories of you and me baby

But right now it's you and me forever girl

And you know we could do better than anything that we did

You know that you and me, we could do anything

You and me together, we could do anything, Baby

You and me together yeah, yeah

Two of us together, we could do anything, baby

You and me together yeah, yeah

It is amazing what you can do when your heart and head work together! Keep your head in the game, Sweet Friends! He's almost home!

Strength and Courage ... sby

I live you.

Valentine’s Day!  Yes!  An entire day devoted to love, and flowers, and chocolate and date-nights that require me getting out of my yoga pants. I adore Valentine’s Day because I adore love and relish being in love with this man I married, especially since lately, he’s never here. With a TDY schedule that’s taken over the last seven months and a looming fourth deployment, sometimes it’s hard to be “us” when he’s so far away.

Last week, while he was at JRTC, I sent him a quick, “I love you,” text message. Except, I made a typo and instead entered, “I live you”.  I laughed, and was about to correct myself, but he beat me to it. “No, you’re right.  I live you too.”

And that, my friends, is why we’re still married.  Call it cheesy, or laughable, but I am desperately in love with my husband. Because we do just that: live each other.   

Military marriages can be hard. We’re constantly in flux, struggling between gearing up, deployment, and re-integration.  In my decade as a spouse, I have seen too many friends call it quits, and not just because they’ve lost the love, but because they’ve lost the “live.”  We walk a delicate balance between needing our spouses and wanting them and being self-sufficient. But when we lose our “live,” that’s when we start to tumble. 

What is this “live” I speak of?  To me, living my husband means that I keep him as my first priority. Even when he’s not here, I keep him in mind when I make decisions. Not every decision, of course, but anything that might affect him. 

I play by the golden rule, which means I treat him how I’d like to be treated. I stay out of the bars when he’s away, and I know he returns the favor. I drop everything when he calls because I want the same reaction from him. We live one another because we know we’re in this for the long haul and there’s nothing more important to us than the health of our marriage. 

He doesn’t yell at me when I walk in front of a video game and I don’t yell at him when he takes my books into the tub. Why? Because in the scheme of things, it’s nothing to fight over because we’re too busy living and loving. 

Our Valentine’s Day may have been closer to pizza with our four boys and a movie once they were in bed, instead of dinner out at an expensive restaurant. But, we did what we do best, live one another

It’s not the date on the calendar that matters; it’s how we’re treating our spouses on a daily basis that will help strengthen military marriages. And this year, we were blessed to be together for Valentine’s Day, and I soaked up every glowing moment of it.

So the next time you’re texting an “I love you” to your spouse, just think that one letter over might be where it’s at. Love them, yes. But more importantly, live them.  Oh, and grab some leftover chocolate, just because you can.

Follow Rebecca at http://theonlygirlamongboys.blogspot.com/

Happy February everyone!

I am happy to report that we officially have new orders! We’re off to Jacksonville, North Carolina.

It’s such a relief to know where our next adventure will be. I cannot tell you how good it feels to know there is an end to our current living situation. I know I haven’t given many details as to why I am so miserable in our house on base or our mouse hole as I nicknamed it. But I don’t think it’s important anymore. Because I can see the light at the end of the tunnel!

I know Jacksonville and Camp Lejeune aren’t special to most people. For those of you familiar with Camp Lejeune, you probably wonder, why is this girl so excited to move there? Many of my friends certainly have asked that question – and then followed it up with their very blunt, not so nice, opinions about our soon to be home.

At first the negative feedback brought me down. But then I decided while it isn’t going to be paradise, we will make the best of it. After all, we’re a military family and that’s all we can do.

I am not trying to win the award for most positive military spouse here. Don’t get me wrong, PCSing twice in a year stinks.

Living in San Diego was a sweet deal and we have been lucky to have been there for our first duty station. But we have come to terms with leaving our paradise even if Jacksonville holds no comparison.

We were dealt a certain hand and this is how we are choosing to make the most of it: looking ahead with a clean slate and an open mind, and most importantly, being together as a family.

A new duty station, regardless of location, is a new beginning. For us, it is also a chance for our family to regain some normalcy and stay put for a while.

As much as I appreciate the helpful, and not so helpful, information about our next home, I am anxious to find out for myself what it has to offer. I know that will mean going outside my comfort zone, and outside the base, to find the good stuff. And, that is exactly what I intend to do.

Bring it on North Carolina, we are ready for you!

Ladies, you have had it easy.

In recent years, military families have become accustomed to discounts, freebies and over the top help from the community. Dare I say it, we are spoiled.

At the same time, veteran’s organizations have noted a recent trend of generational gaps between veterans of different eras. Older vets of Korea and Vietnam, officials said, see younger Iraq and Afghanistan veterans as soft and needy.

Read the article here at http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2012/11/24/15392392-older-vets-to-post-911-vets-we-had-it-harder-did-they?lite

I make the same argument for spouses.

Early in my husband’s career, we were responsible for mowing our own lawns. There was no hourly childcare on base and if your car broke down, you better darn well have insurance that provided a tow truck.

We watched each other’s children and worked together as neighbors, fellow spouses and friends to make the homefront run smoothly. We were a team with a common goal.

Then war erupted and everyone rushed forward to help. It created a community of  spouses are seem more interested in sitting around and demanding services for which they feel they are “owed” rather than getting off their duffs and accomplishing anything.

I have seen spouses, and soldiers, throw outrageous fits in stores and restaurants when they were told the establishment did not offer a military discount.

I have seen spouses blither on about all they do for their nation and how much they are “owed’ a debt of gratitude just to get a free mini-bottle of lotion.

And when we were stationed at Fort Bragg, one young spouse in our unit didn’t want to mow her grass. She felt it would irritate her asthma. Ok, good point. However, this is why you make friends. This is what you should be using part of the extra separation pay for - to pay for the needs your husband would normally take care of if he were not deployed, i.e. yard care.

She, however, felt the Army owed her for allowing her husband to deploy. So she called up and down the chain of command and screamed and stomped her feet until the battalion commander relented and sent a soldier to her house to mow the lawn while she sat on the front porch and watched.

Spoiled. Rotten.

Personally, I think the battalion commander has better things to do. Personally, I would prefer those officers spend their time figuring out how to keep my husband safe and win this war, rather than remove a soldier from the ranks to mow her front lawn.

I could write pages of examples of military spouses I’ve seen gone bad.

I won’t. Instead, I’m going to gently remind these ladies that the gravy train is coming to an end and you need to buckle down.

First, as military deployments to the Mideast begin to wind down further, the civilian population who donates all that fabulous, time, money and product during the up tempo of war is going to stop giving.

They are civilians and don’t understand that even in peacetime there are deployments, separations and hardships for military families. The feeling of patriotic duty is quick to wane and with it will go your free meals and hand lotion samples.

Next, and most importantly, the Department of Defense, which pays your service member’s salary, never approved the 2013 budget. Currently, every federal office is bracing for sequestration by the end of March. In other words, there will be sweeping budget cuts, layoffs and furloughs throughout the federal government. Most government employees are expected to take nearly a 10 percent cut in pay. 

While military pay and money to fund the war in Afghanistan is protected, very little else is.

So, you will still be paid. So why should you care?

Because many of the services you have become used to on base will be cut or gone. Service hours and staffs at commissaries, exchanges, gyms and Child Development Centers could be slashed. 

And if I had my way, perks like free lawn service would have been gone years ago.

Ladies, it’s time to make friends, learn to use the weed eater and get back to basics. While the attention the public gave to our military families was nice and well deserved, it’s not going to continue through this budget crisis.

The nation is in this one together. It’s time we started doing our share. 

"Run away from something or run toward something. Just keep running."

That was my status on Facebook one day. It is still cold here in Kansas so I am doing all of my running in the gym, on the treadmill. It is not fun but I am logging the miles. I have signed up for my first half marathon of the year, and it is 11 weeks (gulp) away.

I really haven't run regularly since my last half marathon in November. My Sweet Soldier came home in December, and, well, we can all make excuses for why we don't do the things we should. The fact is that I just didn't do it.

But I am glad to be back in the swing now. For me, running clears my head and keeps my body fit, so I guess you could call it a win-win situation.

When I began running, I chose songs to listen to that were particular beats per minute. Having done aerobics for a lot of years, knowing the beats per minute helped me manage my breathing, heart rate and general expenditure. I knew exactly where to place the songs with higher beats per minute in my playlist, and somehow, as if by magic, my feet and legs would carry me away with renewed zeal, even at mile four.

Now, I have been able to transition to listening to music that I love while I run. I am a big fan of Dave Matthews and "Everyday" is loud coming through my iPod. It is the first song on my playlist and it is perfect for me.

Pick me up, oh, from the bottom. Up to the top, love, everyday. Pay no mind to taunts or advances. I take my chances on everyday.

There are days, many days, when I don't want to run. And, my motivation has been waning even more since my running buddy went back to work. There are days that I start and at 1.5 miles, my brain wants to tell my body to stop. Then there are the conversations in my head: “Push the button, Sarah. I'm not pushing the button. You need to slow down, Sarah. No, I don't. You can't do it, Sarah. Your running partner isn't here. Forget you! I'm doing it!"

It is usually at that moment that I press the up arrow to make the treadmill go faster!

You know, it is one thing to cut a negative person out of your life, but it is another matter entirely to be your own negative influence. That is what I will spend my time fighting.

Without my running buddy I am learning how to be self-sufficient in my running. It is as if she pushed me out of the running nest and since she reads this column, thank you! Thank you for making me go it alone! I am excited to push myself outside and out of my comfort zone! For me, that is what running is all about!

Strength and Courage ... sby

I’ve been fighting it for a while.

And then, at one of those lazy, stay-in-pajamas Saturday breakfasts, my husband said it.

“I really hope the baby comes soon.  I want to get as much time with her as possible.”

Crash. My husband just brought our idyllic, eggs-and-bacon morning down around my very pregnant head.

Ever since his return in December, I have felt this pressure in the back of my mind, a little repetitive mantra of, “He’s not home long.  He’s not home long. He’s not home long.”

Make no mistake, I’m thrilled that he is here for our second daughter’s birth. Military families know darn well that the father is often not there to cut the umbilical cord.

But he won’t be here too much longer than that.

With our first daughter, we were stationed at a training command. There was no set deployment schedule, and though his hours were wonky, he saw her several times a week. He rocked her when she had her first fever. She chewed on his fingers when she cut her first tooth. He videotaped her sitting up and crawling for the first time.

That won’t happen this time. We knew that. We’ve always known that.  But that doesn’t mask the fact that, when it comes down to it, the push is on.

And my due date isn’t soon enough. Every day that passes is one less day he will get to spend with our baby.

And that makes me feel incredibly guilty, like it’s my fault that my body isn’t ready to bring her into this world yet.

As a military spouse, I have many moments when I wish he was home because I need help, or because I’m lonely, or because something really funny happened on the show Modern Family and I want him to laugh with me.

But we all feel that way. We all talk about it.

What we don’t always talk about is the guilt.

The guilt we feel because he will miss our first daughter’s birthday party - but I won’t. The guilt we feel when he doesn’t see her first smile, or hunt for Easter eggs with our toddler, or take her to swim lessons or blow raspberries on our baby’s belly. He won’t do any of this, but I will.

And as we get closer to yet another deployment day, I feel it more and more: the pressure, the guilt. I have an overwhelming desire to make sure he soaks up as much of this time as possible before it’s too late.

“You take her to the park,” I tell him, and not just because it hurts to lift my toddler up onto the slide, as pregnant as I am.

“You all go blow bubbles in the backyard. I’ll clean the kitchen,” I say.

You spend as much as time soaking up our kids as possible because I get to do it all the time.  That, in essence, is what I mean.

So, I have become a walking machine. I’m drinking enough labor-inducing tea that I literally put toys in the bathroom to occupy my toddler - we spend that much time in there.

I make dinner and do squats. I’m strongly considering putting aside my deep, dark fear of needles and going in for some acupuncture. I’m eating pineapple and lots of foods seasoned with basil and oregano. I’m taking labor-prep capsules prescribed by my midwife and swallowing horse-pill vitamins two, three and four times a day.

While I’m a firm believer that babies come on their own time, I’m also hoping I can encourage her along just a teensy bit.

I want her to open those little newborn peepers and see her Daddy and remember as much of him as a tiny baby can so when she sees him again, months from now, she will smile her toothless grin and cuddle on his shoulder - and lessen my guilt for watching him miss her grow.

At night, I whisper to my belly, as if I can move her through sheer will, “Come on out, little one. We can’t wait to soak up every day with you we can.

“Come out now, before it’s too late.”

Follow Brittany at www.brittsbeat.com

Are you being medically retired? Do you feel like you’re being tossed to the curb? Me too.

After two spinal surgeries, and possibly more to come, my husband is facing a medical evaluation board and could be retired due to his injuries. We had planned on returning to civilian life in four to six years, not one. But, I figured it was ok; that the military takes care of its wounded veterans.

So far, it doesn’t feel like it. 

My husband started the medical board evaluation process after Christmas. They told him then that it would be about 300 days before he would don his uniform for the last time.

Great, I thought. We have time to pack, make plans for the kids’ school and get our life in order.

Probably not.

Now, his caseworker has announced that we could be done in six weeks or less. She said it with absolutely no care, as if we were planning to order a pizza, not completely reconfigure our lives and move 4,000 miles.

I went into panic mode.

We have a household to move, two toddlers, two more children with special needs and five kids total. He is having difficulty finding a job, not because he’s unqualified, but because employers tend to want to know when you can start. We can’t even begin to guess.

Not to mention, we will be without a vehicle for two to three months with such short notice. Being stationed in Hawaii might be heaven, but waiting for your things to arrive after the move home is hell.

Last week, we were sent to a military lawyer to look over the paperwork.

He could see the absolute terror in my expression and said so.

Then he told me, we didn’t just feel rushed, we were in fact, being rushed.

In years past, he said, the medical board process could take two to three years. Military families began to complain. So, the process was re-vamped and now families are moved through at a breakneck pace.

In essence, they are trying to get us out of the way and on our way as fast as possible.

While I appreciate the info, it didn’t make me feel any better.

So, like a well-trained military family, we are adjusting.

We have begun packing the house and making what plans we have with the undefined timeframe.

We are taking care of us, not the military. And I have a feeling that with the pending budget cuts by Congress, military families all over the world are going to need to start doing the same.

So, while I kicked and screamed at the unfairness of it all for a day or two, it’s time to pack up and move out.

This military life has been an adventure for sure, but it’s time for a new one. And this time our adventures will be set according to our schedule, not the military’s. Finally, I am already starting to feel relieved.

It doesn’t matter if your husband fought in Vietnam or Iraq. It doesn’t matter if you served 20 years as a military spouse or five. You get it.

What I like most about being a military spouse is the shared experience. The ups and downs and often bizarre intricacies of military life is something you can’t explain to civilians. Even if you try, they just don’t quite get it. Other military spouses always do.

We’ve all had our own experiences standing next to our men in uniform. Our journeys have all been different but it is a story that we share.

This month we want to introduce you to two new bloggers who are ready to share their stories, Rebecca Yarros and Brittany Casey.

Both of these military spouses have earned a following in the blogosphere via their own sites, chronicling their military journeys.

Now, they are joining Salute To Spouses to share their best advice and adventures with you.

Army wife Rebecca is celebrating her eleventh wedding anniversary this year and is the only dash of pin in a household of four little boys, plus her husband.

The family currently is stationed at Fort Drum, New York.

Navy wife, Brittany Casey has worked both as a journalist and fitness trainer. She has been married to her husband for four years and the pair has a 19-month-old daughter and is expecting their second daughter this month. They currently live in King’s Bay, Georgia.

You can check out their individual blogs at http://theonlygirlamongboys.blogspot.com/ and www.brittsbeat.com

Welcome Rebecca and Brittany! We’re excited to continue this military spouse journey, together.

While roaming Facebook one day, I saw a picture. It was one of those motivational posters that read, "You never forget the friends you make when you go to war." It depicted soldiers in a desert setting and I understood what it meant.

I would present to you, my sweet friends, that those of us who stay behind feel the same way about our sisters-in-arms. We are not stuck in foxholes with firearms or the threat of incoming rounds. Nor are we sleeping on a cot inside a container. But we are, in a sense, fighting a war of our own.

My sweet soldier and I occasionally delve into the discussion of deployed life versus homefront life. I am not saying that one is more difficult or better than the other. What I am saying is that both have their own set of challenges.

The reason this topic has crossed my mind is that since moving to Kansas, I have been fortunate enough to cross paths with two of my sisters-in-arms from Operation Iraqi Freedom I. We were all stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia, in 2003, and we had the pleasure of being part of 3rd Brigade 3rd Infantry Division.

It was our first experience with a combat deployment and it was a scary time for us all. Most of us had never been through anything like that before. We were scared to death. We prayed. We cried. We leaned on each other. We helped with kids and meals. We lent shoulders and ears. Best of all, we made it. We saw them leave and we saw them come home. That was one of the greatest feelings in the world.

I have been thinking recently about how life will be when my sweet soldier returns home. I have spent the last year leaning on my girlfriends. We have laughed, cried, rejoiced and "sent out the posse" together. I would not have made it through this year, or any deployment for that matter, without them.

After twelve months of leaning on myself and my girlfriends, will I be able to make the transition to leaning on him again? Well that, my friends, will be another blog!

Strength and Courage ... sby