Oh where did my manners go?

Im guessing that most of you did not grow up with phrases like "bless your heart", "how's ya mamma doing" and "she means well." Nonetheless, Im sure you know the more wide known expressions of civility such as "pardon me", "yes ma'am" and "may I help you"- basic manners we were all taught at an early age. Well apparently, all of Lousiville has forgotten theirs. While feeling a little nostaligic for our beloved Trader Joe's, hubby, dumplin and I decided to take a little drive north to a similiar grocery market- I wont name any names but you know, it rhymes with Soul Moods.

And oh my goodness! People were behaving so rudely!! Like, gonna run over you with my cart rude. Dont let that door knock your baby out rude. I was afraid I was gonna get run over right there between the meat counter and the tangerines. It was almost kind of scary. I wish I could say that the snow has made everyone crazy, but it was a beautful sixty degree day here in Kentuckiana, and the rude behavior is something I'm starting to see more of.

On a sidebar, let me just say,
Commissary, I love you. I know we've had our differences in the past. I may have poked fun of your painted on arrows or scoffed at your giant snaking line, but I see now that you produce order and peace. Im sorry that I curse you for being closed on Mondays when Im out of milk, and that I say nasty things about your selection. Your prices are so low, that it more than makes up for your shortcomings. I see this now, and I hope to never have to venture into "civilian" grocery stores again. Please forgive me Commissary.


OK, back to the rudeness. A few weeks ago I received an invitation from another wife in our brigade for a coffee. At least I think she was a wife in the brigade, and I think it was an invitation for a coffee- it didn't say. I actually had to email her and ask the embarrassing question- what is this an invitation for? And just so you know, I would have preferred to phone, but she sent the invitation through E-vite. I wont even tell you what I think of that. It turns out it was an invite to our battalion coffee, but since my hubby serves on staff, we have our own coffee group so the whole thing ended up being really confusing and sort of awkward. It left me thinking, where oh where did our manners go?

Having good manners is supposed to be a tool we use to make others feel comfortable in our presence, not put them ill at ease. I expect more of my military counterparts. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do. Like I said, I know that there are phrases and mannerisms that are exclusively southern and Im ok with that. Im not saying we should all start behaving like Scarlett and Rhett but a little common courtesy goes a long way. Thankfully, we Southerners are a gracious people and were more than happy to point you on the staraight and narrow whenver neccessary. But the Army, she's a changing, and I guess the lack of ettiquette is just another thing I will eventually get used to. I mean, we cant all be from the South, but bless your heart, we know you got here as quick as you could.

Every Woman's Dream Meets Coolest Wife in the World

Hubby and I met in college. It was, for all its hilarity, kind of a storybook romance. We were a blind date.  Sort of. He had a roommate, who also happened to be a friend of mine. One night hubby saw a picture of me on the friend’s computer, and the story began. Our friend set out to be matchmaker, but for a month, I blatantly refused. He sent a picture of hubby, but I was unimpressed. Oh, he was gorgeous all right, but the picture was of him and another girl! He was in a fraternity- I didn’t date frat guys. He was ROTC- I wanted nothing to do with the military. Hubby called a few times and each time, I would blow him off. But one night, his persistence paid off and I agreed, begrudgingly, to go out with him. It was the best decision I ever made.




Of course, I still went out with him on my terms. I would meet him for lunch, not dinner. I would drive myself, no; he could not pick me up. I’m sure he was just dying to go out with me at this point. But something happened, even before I got to McAllister's that day. I found myself taking a little bit more time to get ready. I straightened my long brown hair. I put on perfume. I checked the mirror. I checked the mirror again. And when I walked into that restaurant, it was like something from a movie. I saw hubby stand up to greet me, dressed in a fitting black t-shirt and khaki's, he had been reading a book (I didn’t know it at the time, but it was an FM :-) and everyone else faded away. We talked for hours. When we finally had to go, he hugged me goodbye and asked if he could call me. I was completely, utterly terrified that he wouldn't. I was certain that the damage had already been done. But true to his word, he called 48 long hours later. I later asked him why he waited so long and he said he didn’t want to look desperate. Cause, ya know, the eighteen phone calls before didn’t already do that, but I digress...

On our first official date- I say official because I actually let him pick me up this time- we went to Cade's Cove. Cade's Cove is just that, a cove inside the Smokey Mountains, and it is hands down the most beautiful place on earth. I packed a picnic and we spread a blanket on the ground nestled between the mountains. We took a silly picture to remember the moment.  We drove the two-mile loop and discovered that we both had a tremendous love of all things Sinatra. We walked through the old cabins and churches and watched a couple get married.  Later that day when it began to rain, we climbed into the backseat and took a nap- no really, we took a nap! It was storybook.

Two years later, we found ourselves there again, in the very same spot, on a blanket between the mountains. While I was spreading out the picnic, hubby reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black box. He launched into a spill, that he had no doubt, worked on for hours.  But to this day I cannot remember one single word he said. All I could see was him -and our future. We have a few pictures of that day, but my most favorite is the two of us standing in front of that mountain, him beaming ear to ear, and me with my hand in a most prominent position of honor. In my excitement I had literally ran through that field back to the road to find someone, anyone, to take a picture. I found an elderly couple, which as it happens, was there celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. Storybook.

Over the past five years we've had many moments like that. The beautiful pendant and letter he had my brother sneak to me in the bridal room on the day of our wedding. Spending our first anniversary at the Space Needle over looking Seattle while we sipped champagne. The chai tea set he brought home from Iraq in his assault pack, wrapped lovingly in every t-shirt he owned. Dancing around the house like fools the day we found out Abby was on the way. Saying a tearful goodbye to our first little house at Ft Lewis and all that we had been through there. Seeing his face the moment Abby was born, and him surprising me with diamond earrings a few hours later while I held her in my arms. Buying our first home and celebrating together as a family of three. Storybook.

Of course, our idea of romance has evolved in the eight years we've been together. It used to be flowers, chocolate, a night out. And while all those things are still very nice, they just don’t seem to do the trick anymore. Instead, I find myself swooning over him unloading the dishwasher. I croon every morning when he brings me coffee in bed. My heart flip-flops each time he repairs or installs something new. And I’m beside myself about the counter he is going to build in my laundry room. I get almost breathless watching him play with our daughter, seeing him each day in his ACUs, or thinking about this life we've built. It’s not champagne in Seattle, but its a chapter of our story.

Last weekend, after I had spent a week painting and working on or house, he looked at my dried, paint covered hands and tired smile and suggested I go get a mani/pedi and do a little shopping. "Take your time" he said, "I'll stay here with baby and start a load of laundry." I gave him a kiss and told him I thought he must be every woman's dream husband. Later that same day, I asked him if he had made any plans for Valentine's Day. He hung his head in shame. "Good!" I said. "Please don’t send me florists flowers or make reservations, it’s so over-priced. I thought I would make a Valentines supper for the three of us at home this year." He gave me a kiss, and said he thought I must be the coolest wife in the world.

If you had told me eight years ago that I would pass on a night out for staying in with a tired hubby and an energetic toddler, I would have told you you're crazy. But what seemed like romance then, seems so empty now. Flowers wilt, chocolates are eaten, the champagne doesn't last, but in the end, you are left with a lifetime of storybook moments. Moments that take your breath. Moments that you swear must be scripted. Moments when you actually hear the music swell. The moment when the guy finally gets his girl, and the girl finally gets all she never knew she wanted.
Storybook.

Mad at the Military

This post has been a really long time coming, but I personally don’t believe in dialing people out on the blog, so I knew I needed a little while to cool off. The fact is, I’m downright furious with the Army right now. And if I knew more about the other branches, which I should, then I probably would be mad at them too because I’m sure this problem spans the entire depth of the armed services.  Of course, anytime you wish to criticize our very own wayward child, the Army, it suddenly becomes a very delicate and touchy, touchy, subject. But hey, someone's gotta do it.


Ok, so what I’m really mad about is the fact that hubby is working about 16-18hrs a day. And I could bitch, express my disgust over this, but it's really just one symptom of a much bigger problem. The problem is the "check the block" leadership of our military today. The "gotta get mine, forget you" attitude that is being perpetuated and downright encouraged by those calling the shots. Ok, I'll quit with the quotes now, but does everyone see where I’m going with this? It would be easy to think that the current situation hubby and I are wading though only exists in our bde, but I happen to know that’s simply not true. And it’s really starting to tick me off.


Let me just give you an example of the past few months. Our bde is currently going through re-set from a recent deployment, re-flagging at a new post, and preparing for another deployment at the end of this year. Yes ladies, there is a TON of work to be done. I think we all get that, and accept it. My hubby happens to serve on staff right now, which is never really where a combat arms soldier wants to be, but hey, its part of the job and he gives it his all everyday. However, our bde thinks that weekends are actual duty days, and that working until 10:00 o'clock is no big deal. They also have no regard for any prior engagements you may have after work or even on leave, making it IMPOSSIBLE to plan anything. Now, I know to "plan" is a four letter word in the military, but seriously, we cant even say were gonna go out to eat after work, because we never know how late he'll be working that day. And to add insult to injury, often the reason he's working late is because someone doesn’t like the font he used on the PowerPoint presentation. Are you freaking kidding me?? I’m not talking about the occasional inconvenience, I'm talking about the climate and expectations of an entire army. Yea, I'm whining a little right now, but I’m whining for every ticked off, had it "up to here", wife in the army (yea, I know I said no more quotes). I’m about as hooah, go army as they come, but its time to draw the line. It’s actually gotten to the point that if hubby gets home before seven, then I feel like were getting over, and not pulling our weight as an army family. Oh good grief! They're actually starting to get to me!


To make things worse, I’ve noticed an alarming trend going on among wives. It seems that a lot of wives view late nights and weekends as their badge of honor, and are quick to chastise anyone who expresses a desire to actually see their soldier once in a while. I experienced this personally a few weeks ago while talking to a senior wife in our bde. I was joking about how I’ve forgotten what hubby looks like since he's never home. She quickly and sternly reminded me that it is my duty as an army wife to support him and the bde, and that's just "part of it." Say what??? Is this what we're coming to as wives? Degrading each other in a tough situation in order to justify our own choices in life? I wanted to snap back at her that her hubby could work all he wants since he has the pay grade to back it up, but instead I found myself pitying her. She truly believed that she didn’t deserve more, and for years the army has perpetuated this myth.


Don’t get me wrong girls, I love my hubby more than life, I will support his army career until the day he retires, and I will follow him around the world and do my part to make our home there. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I married him, and this is my army life as much as it’s his. And for the most part, we love our crazy, unpredictable life. But that doesn’t mean we can’t also acknowledge the gaps in the system and work to fix them. Just because I don’t paint on a Betty Crocker apron and smile, graciously keeping house and his dinner warm for hours on end, doesn’t mean I'm a bad army wife. That way of thinking was squashed years ago for the rest of society, so why does it hang around in the army?


Part of the reason has to do with the tremendous generation gap of today’s military. Most captains today serve a bde commander who is old enough to be their father. Certainly, they're going to disagree on some expectations of leadership. And you can’t completely blame them; they were raised in a different army. But the times, they are a changing. And somehow, someway, the generations are going to have to find a way to co-exist. Otherwise, we risk burning out the leaders of tomorrow because they can't please the leaders of today.


Ok, so before I start getting hate mail, I will point out that not every single senior leader in the army is a bad dude. I think that there is a tremendous amount to be gained from a mentor who's been around a while, and certainly as wives, we too can learn from other wives, the lost art of ceremony and etiquette. But I KNOW that I’m not the only wife to be working through a situation like this. Out of all the officers that hubby commissioned with, we are definitely now in the minority because we have stayed the course. Others simply grew so frustrated and worn down that they threw in the towel. And it’s easy as wives for us to do the same thing. I actually heard myself say to hubby last week, " I will start supporting this bde, when they start supporting families." Eeek, this thing has gotten really bad.  I instantly gave myself a little scolding for being so self-absorbed and vowed to carry on. Being bitter or giving up is not the answer. Instead, I beg you, and your soldier to see it through, but don’t forget what it feels like to be an abused lieutenant and under-appreciated captain. Remember the wife that made you feel inferior or unworthy, and make yourself a promise that you will do it differently. After all, we can’t complain about that which we are unwilling to change.


Oh, and just one more comment about our wayward child, the Army. Much like an annoying younger sibling, it is our right and our duty to complain, moan and groan about what a pain the military is. We can do that because well, by golly it's ours, we live through this chaos and we own it. But if you're not a military wife, don’t even think about criticizing our army life because we'll come at you like a mama bear protecting its young. Yeah, I know it’s HUGELY hypocritical, but just consider it one of the entitlements of military life. And know that we've earned it.  Can I get a an Amen?