Second place...

You know, maybe it's just an off day, but being a military wife plain sucks.

There aren't too many jobs that cause you to take second place in just about every aspect of your life.  Although there are perks, and I will always love and keep those in mind, there are also some downsides.  One of the major ones I'm disliking currently is playing second to the other woman... the United States Military.

This feeling isn't new to me.  From our move up here (if you know the history about that, you know how helpless I felt then), to Justin unexpectedly deploying so soon after Jenssen's birth, to the Army later telling me that we couldn't live up here with Justin, to having spent only 2 out of 5 Anniversary's together, and 2 Birthdays in the last 8 years... I've felt this way before, believe me.

But my latest second place finish came this morning.  Justin came home from PT (actually, he ran a 10 mile marathon, good job bud!) and told me he couldn't watch the boys for my 1340 (1:40 pm Amy..., ha!) 6 week Postpartum follow up with women's health.  The plan for weeks had been that Justin would be able to get off work early and watch the guys, since they don't allow children at the visit.  (I have to agree, my check up would go much quicker and smoother without a 2 year old trying to help and a 6 week old screaming in the background.) Well, he comes home, 5 hours before my scheduled visit, and tells me he can't get off anymore.  Great...  I call the appointment line, their next appointment is June 26, nearly a month out. I will be over 10 weeks, so they can't see me for a follow up.

Thanks Army, I'll step back graciously and wait another month for my appointment, with family health (who will most likely have no clue why I am there) instead of women's health (who have worked with me for 9 months to get a squishy bundle of joy I want to show off), since you now need my husband for an hour on a Friday afternoon.

I got to thinking just how often a military wife, spouse, or family for that matter gets that special 2nd place ribbon.  I really like my job here.  Then again, I really liked my job at our last station also.  But when the Army says go, I can't say no.  When Justin's job tells him he is moving, he can't say "No, we like it here."  We have to go (and the half glass full kinda gal in me has to admit that you do go some cool places) regardless of our opinion.  Too far from family?  Not your kind of climate?  OCONUS (Outside continental United States)?  Too bad.  Go.  I liked our house in Savannah, it was perfect for a little family.  That didn't matter to anyone, nor does the fact that our duplex up here is small, and not set up for toddlers.  Nobody said "Tammy, do you want to stay here?  Or go there?" nor would they give me the time of day if I asked.  Most families get to decided personal things like when to have a kid, on their own schedule.  If I want Justin here for the pregnancy, or the birth, or the first year, I have to plan, around someone else's schedule... the dreaded deployment schedule.  Many kids have major accomplishments like state competitions, graduations, or even birthdays, that they want their mom or dad there for.  They too get that participation ribbon.  I'm waiting, I've been waiting, for 4 years to be somewhere where I can more easily go back to school.  When you see a few more letters behind my name you'll know that day came, but don't hold your breath.  It would be nice to be able to settle down, to have my kids grow up (or at least spend more than 2 years) with the kids down the street, to own a house, to quit wasting money on rent.  But when the next promotion comes up, it can't be turned down.  No thanks, really, I'm fine here.  We learned the hard way in Savannah that the American Dream will have to wait for us.

Yeah, we can get out.  We didn't have to sign up, or re-enlist.. twice.  Nope, in a way I have put myself in second place, knowing each time Justin put his hand up that that was exactly where I was going.  As much as days like today put me in a sour mood, I know in my heart that he is doing the most important job out there.  Someone has to protect us, and someone has to love and share their life with those that are doing the protecting.  I am honored to be serving in that role, but it definitely has it's low points.  Good thing I live for the high points huh?!

I know Justin doesn't see us as second place.  We are in a whole different league, one that matters much more to him.  The boys and I are his priority when he wakes up in the morning, and when he goes to bed at night (I know for a fact he does NOT wake up at night, no matter how many little boys are crying!) He gives so much of himself, to his family, and to his country.   But, I also know that he sometimes gets put in a position, like today, of saying sorry, Army first babe.  And those days just plain suck.

Maybe I'm complaining, maybe I'm PMSing(breastfeeding version... not sure if that is different or not, but it's real!), maybe I'm cashing in my tickets on the pity train, or maybe I'm just bitching. I don't know, but do know it sucks, and it really helps to talk about it.  So hi, I'm talking to you!  I knew this going into it, I accepted it, I live with it.  But everyone has a breaking point.  I've reached mine.  I'm gonna break, I'm gonna complain, I'm gonna say this is hard.  But tomorrow I will wake up, and start all over.  I will start building up to the next breaking point.  When that one will come, I don't know, but it will come, and fortunately, it will also go.  I have to keep reminding myself that it will always go.

 The military life is kinda like a the wave at a football game.  To those participating, the anticipation is exciting, the moment is easy to get caught up in, but when it passes you are left to rethink what you just went through, analyze, and wait while watching others go through what you went through, preparing to do it all again very soon.  To everyone not participating, it looks kinda ridiculous, and they aren't about to jump in.  But if you are the one doing it, you know why you do.  You can't always explain it, but you know there are plenty of others doing it with you, looking, acting, and feeling just as ridiculous. 

I'm not the only army wife, or even civilian wife, to feel second place to a job. I'm not alone in feeling this way, and knowing that makes it so much easier.  Thanks for letting me vent... now, what to make for lunch?