"Us"

I believe that every couple goes through trials that test the foundations of their relationship.  Some trials are simple hiccups on an otherwise smooth path, and others are a 9.0 earthquake on the Richter scale of life.  The ties that bind are tested, and while many make it through to the other side, there are those who don’t.

Every relationship is different just as every person in those relationships is different from the next.  We are none of us the same, which is why finding someone and falling in love and spending the rest of your life with them is such a magical idea(l).  The odds of finding your perfect (or imperfect) match are tremendous, and in so many ways we set ourselves up for failure because we strive for ‘perfection’ whereas our significant other is concerned, even when we ourselves are far from perfect.

I know my husband is not perfect, but I like to think he’s perfect for me.  And I for him.

I cannot pretend that the last two years have been a walk in the park, although I’ve been told that I’ve made it seem so to the casual observer.  They didn’t bear witness though to the depths of my self-pity on occasion, and the consequent self-loathing as I felt no right to those emotions since we chose to live separate lives.  Many tears were shed and angry emails sent, elation and disappointment felt, sometimes within moments of each other. 

It’s been an emotional roller coaster to say the least.

Looking back I can easily say this was been by far the most difficult trial we’ve faced as a couple (for obvious reasons,) and this is after going through two deployments and several out of country exercises together.  Out of the six years we've been together, my husband has been physically gone for over four of them.  But these last two years demonstrated to me what I’ve always known, just in a clearer light.

We’re meant to be together, but the largest force behind that is we want to be.

Everything we’ve gone through in these six years has come back to that.  “I choose you.”  Our choice has come with the obvious sacrifices that go hand in hand with being a military family, but in my mind it isn’t a difficult choice.  When you truly love someone, what wouldn't you do to be with them?  There will always be sacrifices in life and relationships are hardly an exception.

I’ve had many people over the years tell me, “I could never do what you do,” but I don’t think they give themselves enough credit.  When you can’t imagine your life without someone, you make up your mind to do what it takes to be together. 

No matter what.

My marriage is made of love, patience, understanding, respect, friendship, appreciation, loyalty, and fierce independence.  Joy, passion, fits of laughter, tears, heartbreak, anger, resolution, forgiveness, and compassion.  Common goals, compromise, amusement, sarcasm, unwavering support, inside jokes, good scotch, black coffee, communication, comfortable silences, knowing glances, stimulating conversation, full disclosure, and separate laundry.

All of these things and more are what make us work.  But above all is our desire to make it work.  I can only hope that every married person knows exactly that their marriage is made of, because only then do you truly know what’s worth fighting for:

We... Our... Us.

Eat, Pray, Love

"People think a soul mate is our perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life"
                                                                                                    - Richard from Texas


I just saw the movie "Eat, Pray, Love" with Julia Roberts on DVD (while drinking wine and eating pasta. And gelato.) And it made me thankful for what I have, but gave me a bit of the travel bug as well. How could it not? Italy, India, Indonesia... some of the most beautiful places in the world, all places I'd love to see someday.

With D, of course.

A few years back I read the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and at the time it was a revelation. I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it yet, but her path to self-discovery took her all over the world. She experienced excruciating heartbreak and sadness before she finally found what she was looking for, before she found happiness. I have not experienced the pain she did personally that drove her to make that journey, but when I look back on the last six years of my life or so, I realize that I've been on a journey too.

Many times in life it takes heartbreak or hardship to grow as a person. To finally see yourself clearly, to truly know what your worth is. I feel fortunate enough that I have gone through that without any real emotional scars, and came out on the other side a changed person.

I grew.

I 'met' myself for the first time in my adult life, and finally figured out who hem is on her own. I was living alone in LA at the time, and the period following that heartbreak are some of the happiest memories of my adult life. I met new people and made great friends I still talk to today. I had an active social life. I focused on my career more. All things that so easily fall by the wayside when your life is defined by another person or the relationship you're in, rather than yourself.

I've witnessed friends have their hearts broken but not be changed by it. They still dated the same types of guys who would break their hearts again, and they never seemed to feel that they were worth more than that. Or at least that's what their behavior would indicate.

I know now without a doubt that period of growth for me is why I'm where I am today. I met D about a year after I 'found' myself, and the person he met was the one he fell in love with. The new me. Having that time to myself made me realize what I wanted in a relationship, and when I met him and got to know him, I knew he could make me happy for the rest of my life. But I might not have known that if I hadn't had that year to myself first.

On the flip side being in a relationship with D has changed me as well, but in good ways I think. He is the savory to my sweet. The calm seas to my storm. I look back and see how much I've mellowed since I met him (he has a very calming effect on me). He helps me to not sweat the small stuff, which is something I do all too easily. He puts things into perspective, reminds me of what's really important in life. So I guess really, the person I am now isn't the one he met five years ago. It's a hybrid of who I was then and who I am now, which isn't a bad thing because I still know who I am as a person.

And at the moment, it's a Marine Corps Mistress with the travel bug and a husband who lives six thousand miles away.

:P

I haven't done much traveling thus far in my adult life. I'll be 30 in less than five months and I have zero stamps in my passport. It's something I desperately want to rectify, but my biggest problem is I want to see them with D. All of it. The whole world. And that really isn't going to happen until he and I actually live in the same country, for starters.

I already know where I want to start though: Italy. It looks like a place where you could go and just fall in love all over again in. We've already talked about taking that trip when D rotates home, so I have plenty of time to plan before he gets back.

That and think about all the amazing food we'll get to eat when we finally get there.

Loved

Right now, I'm happy.

Really, really happy.

For all the times where I'm having a hard time, the bad days, frustration... there are days like these where I feel like I'm floating. Of course it doesn't hurt that Monday was Valentine’s Day and it seemed the world was wearing rose colored glasses. Or at least I was. But Hallmark Holidays aside Monday was a good day for many reasons, and I went to bed at the end of the day feeling very loved.

I love days like that.

Out of the five Valentines Days D and I have been together he's been home for three, which isn't too bad all considering. We've had a tradition of making some romantic gesture towards one another every year, some years more grandiose than others. Our first Valentine’s Day together he took me on a dinner cruise on the Hornblower around San Diego harbor and Coronado Island. It was a lot of fun and quite romantic, and every year since he's found some thoughtful way to show me (and/or tell me) that he loves me.

(<--- lucky girl)

I'd learned last Friday night that a girlfriend was going to be alone on Valentine’s Day like I was (her guy had an out of town gig so he wouldn't be home), and I told her she should come over for dinner at my house. I'd been planning on spoiling myself with a delicious Valentine’s Day meal for one, but it would be that much better if there was someone else to share it with and she happily accepted.

I was particularly excited about this meal because I was going to attempt something I'd never done before: I was going to make homemade hollandaise sauce. Julia Child's hollandaise sauce. Last year D and I saw "Julie & Julia" right before Valentine’s Day and it threw me into a Julia Child frenzy. I wanted to cook like that – with that joie-de-vie that Julia possesses – and turn out amazing, butter laden things that make your taste buds sing in delight. Being the wonderful, thoughtful, butter-loving man that he is, D promptly went online and ordered "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" Vol I & II for me for Valentine’s Day (the ultimate act of foodie LOVE!)

So naturally, it only seemed fitting that I should make this year's Valentine’s Day meal with last year's Valentine’s Day gift in honor of D, who is currently enjoying record snow fall in Korea (and I use the term 'enjoying' very loosely, of course...)

Monday morning came and I woke up feeling energized. It just felt like it was going to be a good day. I even went so far as to dress for the occasion: all red and pink, right down to my cardigan and shoes. All day all I could think about was the fabulous meal I was going to go home and make, and how excited I was to finally attempt Hollandaise (what can I say, it's the little things in life that excite me).

I got away from my desk for lunch and indulged in a spicy tuna sushi salad at Bristol Farms. Seriously, one of the best things.  Ever. The sunshine felt wonderful and it was an absolutely beautiful day. To make a great day even better though, I came back from lunch to this on my desk:

You have to understand, I've never gotten flowers from D before, EVER. These were my first flowers in five years with the man, so this was not something I expected at all. To have them on my desk that afternoon while I was working (along with the very sweet note he sent) made him feel not so far away. It's those kinds of moments that really keep me going while he's gone because it's yet another reminder that even with over six thousand miles between us, we know how the other feels without having to be physically present. Love has to be expressed through words and gestures when you're not around to show it, and at the end of the day I know my husband loves me with all his heart.

After work my coworker and I had some chocolate spice martinis while we nibbled on triple crème brie with homemade crostini and rosemary Marcona almonds in my kitchen (YUM!). We visited while I prepared dinner and got together all the ingredients for the hollandaise, and it felt like what used to be a normal weeknight for me. When D was home and we'd talk about our day while we cooked dinner together.

I miss that.  A lot.

Everything was coming together nicely and right as I was finishing up the hollandaise and getting ready to plate our dinner my phone rang. It was D calling to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day. While standing in the snow. Outside the internet cafe because it wasn't open yet (he was able to log into Skype on his iPhone from outside the cafe using their free Wi-Fi.  Yay for Skype!) It was a brief conversation because I was juggling plates and he was technically at work, but it was so good to hear his voice.

That phone call was the missing piece to the puzzle, and my Valentine’s Day was complete. Flowers AND a phone call in one day! I could have died a happy girl. It truly was the perfect ending to a wonderful day.

(Well, that and this... because every wonderful day needs a molten chocolate cake with vanilla crème fraîche to be complete, right?) ;)

Tour-de-Home Depot

This last weekend was so draining, but it was worth it because I feel like I accomplished so much.

I drove to four (yes, FOUR!) different Home Depots and two different Lowe's over the course of the weekend, all in the quest to get the yard lights that I needed for my landscaping project. Wouldn't you know I needed 17 of these lights, and the most any of the stores near me had was six. I quite literally bought every last one of these things between the four stores I visited, and the Lowe's stops were to find a transformer to handle all the juice needed (200W is too little, and the next one up at Home Depot was 900W, which is waaaaay overkill).

We finally found a 600W transformer who's box hadn't been mangled and still had all the directions and whatnot inside (you'd be amazed how difficult it seems to be to find products that haven't been tampered with in some way, shape, or form at these stores. It's unbelievable what people will do to items they don't intend to buy!) I'm glad we found everything we needed but after spending a whole afternoon in the Land of Men, I needed a beer.

We're in what feels like the home stretch with landscaping the yard, but I'm hesitant to even say that because every time I think we're close something doesn't go exactly the way we planned it would, and suddenly we have a few more days of work to finish what seemed like a simple task when we started. The silver lining to all this is it's giving me that much more time to contemplate my plant choices, and I'm much more confident in what I'll be putting into the ground than I was a week ago. I've decided to go the drought tolerant route since we don't get a lot of rain in CA typically, and water prices were just raised (again) in San Diego county.

Progress is visible after this weekend though, the roses are now in the ground! (although the below pic was taken right before they were planted...)

While we were staging them for planting a neighbor passed by walking his dog, and he stopped and told me, "what you guys are doing looks so good! We all love what you've done with the place, it's absolutely beautiful!" I was so proud at that moment, because when you hear things like that from strangers it's such a good feeling. The real icing on the cake though was as he was walking away, he said, "your house is the crown jewel of the neighborhood!"

The Crown Jewel!

Nothing could have made me happier than hearing that! My heart nearly burst from my chest with pride. Not only did that mean that my neighbors appreciated all the work I've put into the house... that meant whoever wrote that nasty gram was wrong. I am a good neighbor. And maybe if they’d taken the time to knock on my door and introduce themselves, ask my name and find out what my plans for the house were, they would have found that out first hand.

Instead of assuming I was a deadbeat and leaving a nasty note in my mailbox.

In addition to finishing up the yard, I now have to put thought into how I want the garage laid out for when the electrician comes out to hook up the sprinkler and light timers in there. Because naturally, there are no existing outlets on the wall that the timers need to go on. Because that would be too easy (perhaps my next tutorial will be on Garage Organization 101?)

After all this designing, contemplating, trial and error, I feel like I need my own show on HGTV...

Struggle Within

I won't lie; I've had a time of it with D gone as of late.

It's like I took two steps forward in setting up my 'home alone' routine, and his visit at Christmas set me back to square one. In the three weeks he was home I got used to him being around, having someone to talk to. It made me realize just how much I miss him when he's gone.

Normally I adjust when he leaves, keep calm and carry on. I'm really, really good at staying busy, which is a valuable skill set when you're a military wife. I think what's been throwing me off course is the fact that he's not on a deployment, and that sets me up for the expectation that I can talk to him regularly (like we did during his last two deployments). That we can Skype all the time so I can see his face. That we'll still have our usual sarcastic banter back and forth via IM and email that makes it feel like we have a normal relationship, like everyone else who gets to see their spouse every day.

Except we don't.

His new unit and subsequent work schedule keeps him at work 14+ hour days in most cases. Not even weekends are sacred. I emailed the FRO to find out why the crazy hours were a regular thing and was basically told this is just the way it is, so we have to deal with it. Which of course is no comfort, and being half way around the world I don’t have the support of the other wives who are just as husband-less as I am. I am an island (which I find ironic since Okinawa is an island, and San Diego is anything but). 

I saw this post on another blog I happened across, Whiskey Straight, and it perfectly articulated how I've been feeling:

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life…

“A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.

“One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego.

“The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.

“This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather,

“Which wolf will win?”

The old chief simply replied,

“The one you feed.”

I don't want to feed the frustration and bitterness that gets a hold of me every now and then, but it's really hard not to sometimes. I never thought I'd be in a position where talking to my spouse was a luxury, and yet here I am, sometimes going weeks without hearing from D. I also don't want people’s pity though, and that's why I don't really talk about it with anyone. Not my family, not my friends (although I suppose it seems hypocritical to talk about it here).  But that's why I started this blog in the first place. It's my Switzerland - the place I can vent all this type of stuff without anyone throwing me a pity party.

My hope when I began writing was that there might be other women like me out there in the blogosphere. Who have moments where they feel like a bad wife for hating their husband's job. For feeling guilty about getting emotional when they've had a bad day and all they want is a hug when they get home, but that's not in the cards. It's about the good, bad and ugly of being a military wife, or any sort of work widow really.

I know I will struggle with my two wolves for the next 10 years of D's career, and that's something I accepted a long time ago. This life is anything but easy, but it is temporary (he's already got his retirement date picked for cryin' out loud). I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

Someday, my husband will be all mine.  And I will no longer be a mistress to the Marine Corps.

But for now I choose to feed the good wolf, and remember that all of these sacrifices are worth it in the end.

Because when you love someone, that's all that matters.

A Time To Plant...

...a time to rip my hair out in frustration.

I thought the hard part was over when the hard scape portion of my yard project was done. We put up a new fence (custom made by Dad!), distributed gypsum to help break down all the lovely clay that makes up pretty much all of San Diego County, put in drain pipes and filled in the planter that was empty (and non-existent) before. I've even had gutters installed to help preserve the hard scape and newly minted planter beds in the front yard from the roof runoff that we were having while it was raining. For what felt like the entire month of December. What I didn't anticipate though was how hard it was going to be to decide what, exactly, I was going to put in those planters.  Besides plants.

Why is this so hard?

Sure, I know where the grass and roses are going to go, but I'm still left with three empty planter areas and a whole host of possibilities that makes my head spin. I know part of the problem is I'm putting undue pressure on myself, but this is the front yard of my house.

My calling card.

The first impression people will have of me as a homeowner, before ever having laid eyes on me or met me.

Every opinion formed of me by every stranger who ever passes by my home will be based on what they think of my yard.

Yea, no pressure or anything.

(Normally I don't care too much about what other people think, but my home is a source of pride for me.  That and I have an HOA.  'nuff said).

If it sucks, then that's all people will be able to see. It will distract them from all the gorgeous stack stone and the five stone, variegated, tumbled pavers I just put down. That and the fact that I took the time to painstakingly scrutinize five shades of white to ensure my gutters perfectly match my trim and stucco?  That will all be for naught because all they can think is, "what were they thinking with those plants?"  (Overly dramatic?  Perhaps, but bear with me... I'm trying to make a point). 

If it's fabulous, I can relax knowing that I'm not the one bringing down everyone's property value, and can have the self satisfaction of having raised the bar for the neighborhood that much more.  In the spirit of full disclosure I should note: we received an anonymous nasty gram in our mailbox about the state of our yard right after we'd moved in, which neither of us have forgotten or quite forgiven.  The ink wasn't even dry yet on our mortgage, we'd been homeowners for a matter of weeks and suddenly there was a note saying "If you don't have time to take care of your yard, you should hire someone to do it for you."  It was all I could do to keep D from going door to door demanding to know who'd written it. Luckily for them we were already planning on ripping the yard out (which is why we weren't watering it), but that only added fuel to the fire.

Rude, gutless neighbors aside; I want a yard I can be proud of. Something that's beautiful for my benefit, first and foremost. I've been scouring books and nurseries for ideas, and let me tell you, if you want to be overwhelmed pick up a copy of the Sunset Gardener's Handbook. Ho-ly Cow. Anything you could ever want to know about any sort of plant is in there, which is probably why it's not the best place to start. It's a lot to digest all at once without actually being able to see anything in person.

Naturally I'd love D's input on these sorts of things, but of course his living in a different country doesn't lend itself to helping with weekend projects such as these. Dad's been my man power during the last six months, and for that I've been eternally grateful. Next up on our list is to finish distributing the mulch in the planters, rototill everything in to mix it all up, finish removing the last of the tree roots from the 20’ tree I had ripped out of the front yard, and then rent a trencher to dig the trenches for the sprinkler and electrical conduits. (Ah yes, Landscape Design 101 continues...) After that we can install the sprinklers and start to actually plant some plants!

Which of course brings me back to... what exactly am I going to put in the planters?

New Year, Same Song and Dance

I can't believe it's 2011. Where did 2010 go?

The last few months have been a blur (hence the lack of posting), but that's what happens during the holidays. It also hasn't helped that this year has felt insanely busy already, and we're only (less than) a month in. I'm hoping this isn't a sign of things to come...

This last Thanksgiving was a little weird because it was the first one I hadn't spent with D since we met, which is pretty incredible given his occupation. It was still a good one though - I went to my parent’s house and we had a small get together with family and friends. I even made The Best Pie, EVER! (bourbon-pecan pumpkin butter pie). I know, you wish you'd been there to have some. Dad brined the turkey and mom and dad's friends the Smith's brought a family recipe to the table: pork sausage dressing. I thought I'd died and gone to stuffing heaven. Needless to say there was no shortage of good food or company to be had, but it still felt a little hollow with D gone.

The great thing about November and December is you get two major holidays within a month of each other. The even better thing this last year was D came home for three weeks to spend Christmas with me in our new home! It's hard to quantify how you feel when you see the person you love the most for the first time in three and a half months. It was like he never left. We fell so easily back into our routine, right down to the way he holds my hand while I'm driving when we were on our way home from the airport. Everything felt right and whole again.

And then, there was the big reveal.

I'd been secretly dying to know what he'd think of the house when he saw it for the first time in person. All the time, work, (money!!!) and labor were only worth it if he liked it as much as I did. Pictures only show you so much when you're dealing with a project of this scale, but my husband was clearly in awe when we rounded the corner into the cul-de-sac, with that "whoa" look in his eyes. He was very pleased with the end result which only added to my joy that day.

We made the most of the time we had and within the first two weeks were so deep into a food and drink coma that it was obvious that some serious detox would be needed to come out of it. But, what are the holidays if not a time to eat, drink, and be merry with the ones we love?

Christmas was fantastic, and being able to spend it together in our new home made it all the more special. We realized a little too late that we were feeling a bit drained from all our activities though, trying to squeeze as much into his visit as we could. I'd wanted so badly to see and do all the things I hadn't been able to do with him over the last few months, but what he really wanted to do was sit at home and just relax, with nowhere to be and nothing to do. It's hard to plan for everything, especially once you're in the thick of it.

Before we knew it our time was up. New Years had come and gone, and we found ourselves with a still lengthy to-do list and no more time to do anything. It's so hard not to feel selfish when I watch him pack and can't help but say, "I wish you didn't have to go."

Luckily work has kept me very busy over the last few weeks, so I haven't had too much time to really sit and feel lonely. Our talking schedule hasn't gotten any better sadly, as D returned to 14+ hour work days and the 17 hour time difference that makes talking so hard to begin with. What's really crazy is he's been over there for six months already, so depending on when he gets his next set of orders we could be 1/3 of the way through. It just goes to show that even in the most undesirable of situations, time still flies.

I've been surprised at how life has been with D away this time around. It feels different, perhaps because it's more than just a deployment, but it's definitely more stressful on my end (and that's without a wedding to plan!) All the moving parts that go into homeownership and maintenance, the responsibilities, (the cleaning!) are all things I had no real way to prepare for. But seeing as how a large part of our lives are spent apart, I'm taking it as a character building exercise. D married me because he knew I could handle it (well, that and he couldn't live without me).

I will say this: I'm looking forward to everything 2011 has to offer because I know no matter what happens, we'll take the lemons, add some sugar and vodka and have ourselves a party. ;)