Ah, the joys of young love, the supposed romance or perhaps just a bunch of lust and teenage hormones making you feel like you're on top of the world. Then you get older...and look back on those old glorious days.
I am a hopeless romantic...my husband is not. I should have known that he wouldn't be after 8 years of dating before getting married, but I suppose those unexpected moments of romantic gestures kept me hoping that he would one day be a romantic guy. I did get flowers unexpectedly (when I was really stressed) and we used to celebrate things, but lately the Hallmark holidays get passed by, the anniversaries end up being last minute "what do you want to do" nights, and we've only had two date nights in the past two years because we never have a sitter or just don't take the initiative. I think it needs to change. Now, I have to say when you have a husband in the military you get used to the training, deployments, and random odd nights when he's on staff duty, or would get a call that a soldier did something stupid at 4am and he has to go get them from the MPs, but having a husband who's not off doing other things every so many months would be nice. At least I'm pretty certain that this time as well as last he will be home for the birth of his second child, something not many men get the luxury of doing in the years since we've started this long and annoying battle in the middle east. So there's a plus.
At times I dream of what a "normal" life might be like. Buying a house and knowing you're going to live in it more than three years, living close to family, knowing where everything is because you're not in a new city every three years (or six months depending on training). I think about what I would be doing had I stayed close to home. No doubt I would not have had the amazing experience I had when we were stationed in Hawaii, but I might have had a steady job from the time I got out of college and not had to worry about how long I can keep a job in my current state of residence before I have to tell them I'm moving...or having a baby. Luckily, the military life has afforded me some luxury. I am able to be a stay at home mom and we can easily afford it. This is a big deal for me as I watch all the other moms go back to work after three months. Something I couldn't possibly imagine since I would not have been close to relatives or someone I knew to watch my precious bundle of joy. I also have "free" health care. While tax payers pay for a lot of it, we have small amounts we have to pay for things like dental and such and it is a big help financially (especially when it comes to having children). You do meet a lot of people, granted a lot of them are dudes in the military as well, but you do stumble upon other wives and make friends...I just happen to make them sloooooowly.
I suppose you always wonder about the "what if's." Thing is I know some of what my what if's would have been and I can't help but imagine how different my life would be now if I had let it come to pass. I knew in that moment when I had to make a decision, I was ok with what I had decided and was looking forward to the future. And as I sit here today I have moments of doubt, but moments of extreme clarity and it can be oh so confusing. One end of the spectrum, a romantic, kind soul who would certainly notice me a bit more, be more attentive,shares similar dreams, and he makes me laugh and smile a hell of a lot. The other end, and incredibly independent man who stands his ground, is the most impressive debater (which makes it hard to win at anything), is honest and true, but his passions are not shared and cause him to notice the amount potential food wandering across our backyard (depending on the season) than rather than the wife who just wishes he would use soap on the dishes so she didn't have to wash every stinking one and wash them often. Or perhaps I just wish he would volunteer to help. He never asks if I need help with our son or takes the time to clean his bathroom sink (a vile place where I've never seen someone get so much toothpaste/spit on the faucet. It's really mind boggling). I know, he's a man and men often need their wives to ask them to do these things, but boy would it be nice to come home one day after shopping to have a clean house (by my standards) and a happy baby. A girl can dream. Perhaps an anniversary present?
Sure, I knew he wouldn't use soap when I lived with him early on in college, yes I know it's nearly impossible to win any argument and I've known it since high school, and yeah, he's into hunting and I should have known after a few years in college that he'd be out in a deer stand every chance he could get. But what I didn't know was how true it is that you can't change a man. I feel that over the years I've tried to better myself. Party because some faults (and trust me they were obvious faults) were made obvious to me by my future husband years ago. I used to be super clingy, nowhere near independent, afraid of not being good enough or pretty enough (very self conscious about my complexion and my weight), and got angry at the stupidest things very easily. Thanks to him I am not clingy, much more independent (you have to be if you're going to survive deployments), more confident about my appearance (but still self conscious), and get angry much less at things that aren't really worth getting angry about...or at least I acknowledge that I was angry for no good reason afterwards and end up apologizing whereas I would not have done so before.
Life and those in it shape you, make you who you are, and make you what you will become if you let them. I have grown up, learned a lot about myself, and have discovered that sometimes life isn't always a bowl of cherries. And yes Forest, you're right...life is like a box of chocolates. I hate the hard caramel ones, but love the vanilla creams. Some days are like hard caramel...shit sticks to you and pisses you off, but other days are like vanilla cream, elated, full light and of hope, and keeps you coming back to the box because you know there are more vanilla creams.
No comments:
Post a Comment