My Life as an Air Force Wife

Today was an amazing day. First off, I woke up this morning to the smell of lilies. It turns out I left the window open and the tiger lilies were getting restless, so they crept through my window to pull me out of my funk. I reluctantly climbed out of my bed into my bunny slippers (they were feeling kind of cranky this morning), and hopped my way to the potty. As usual the potty was talking 10 kinds of foul to me. I flushed, washed, and hopped on in to the kitchen. Olie was sitting at the breakfast table, reading the morning paper, and commenting on the current recession in England (he's worried about his hedge fund... I'm worried about the hole under my hedge where he's been hiding his bones). So, pancakes were the order of the morning. Unfortunately at this time it was the ass crack of dawn, not a pretty picture, so I had to leave the windows in the kitchen closed for the morning. I walked to the computer to feed my fish, take care of my theme park, and check on the ghosties. By this time Olie has abandoned reading the paper and has instead taken to shredding it. I've been living in a kitty litter box since we obtained Rolie Polie Olie, so I'm used to it. I pull out the vacuum, whom I hadn't fed in several days, and went whirring away. She happily obliged to digesting all the bits and pieces of paper lying about then topped it off with a few dust bunnies. Oh, don't give me that look. I know you've been killing dust bunnies, too. It's the natural order. I put the vacuum away, walked to the couch, and plopped myself down. There I fell asleep for a couple of hours dreaming about purple dragons and green poodles. I woke up to find that the rest of my body was not feeling so compliant. My feet were sleeping, and my bum was in that dream state where you're not quite asleep but not exactly awake either. I gave a quick shake (Olie shook as well, for my future body shaking reference), and shimmied to the kitchen. Jon was playing soft music with his nose, the wind was blowing through the curtains, and my stomach was attempting Beethoven's 5th symphony. Boring lunch, chicken noodle soup, though I must complain it was rather feathery this time. I decided to go for a walk so I laced up my shoes, put on a light yellow jacket, and walked the lonely street. The trees around me cast violent indigo shadows across my body, the clouds roll in clapping and heaving, so I retreat to my house. As I walk home I see couples walking around wearing smiles that seem forever plastered to their ceramic faces. I reach up and grab one cheerful looking woman. She's so young, surely there was time to help her. I squished her face in my hands trying to mold something else, something not written, but as soon as I let go it bounces back to its original eerie grin. I made it home, sadly confused, and headed straight to the kitchen. With a beer in one hand and a spoon in the other, I set to making dinner. Jon and I ate pureed bitch with a side of sarcasm. Desert was bitter life yogurt, naturally I skipped out on that one. Now here I am, filling you in on the day. 15 days to deployment.

Now everyone knows that there are families that are very A-typical to every Air Force base. Take for instance, the family I envy sometimes, the Super Family. They have two kids, both very young, and yet they manage to keep their life in perfect order. Take for instance, you go to their house to do them a quick favor, and their house is SPOTLESS. I mean anal kind of spotless. AND it smells good! No, not good, great... amazing, even. How do these people do it! To top it off they are ranking it up. They can cook, they always look well presented, not an ounce of fat on them, nothing. They're just... perfect. I wish my house looked like theirs. What kills me is their carpets! If you know who I'm talking about then you know what I'm talking about. I cleaned my carpets for almost a week straight and in 2 days they looked just like they did before, even though we didn't let the dog run around inside, no one wore their shoes in the house, and I vacuumed like no one's business (with a new friggin $200 vacuum!). Then there's the family who's not from the States. The husband is military and he's cool as all get out. You'd never know he wasn't American if it wasn't for his accent. The wife tries so hard to make friends with everyone, and usually succeeds. Nothing really weird about them except that their kid could possibly be from the book "Where the Whild Things Are". English+Foreign language = evil baby talk. Ok, the baby isn't evil. She just acts like it sometimes (but she is honestly a doll). The next family would be the young family. I'm talking 18 year old married to another 18 year old. They are in debt up to their eyeballs because they spend all the money they make as soon as they get it. I know because we used to be that couple. They think they're in love but you everyone knows that they got married for all the wrong reasons. Don't get me wrong, we all want it to work out. Divorce is ugly no matter which way you turn it. Now we have the Old Couple. They're getting up in their years, no babies, and newly wed! They're cute as all get out but both of them are unsure about each other. Even more so, the spouse is confused about military life, the service member is confused about the spouse being confused. But you see them making the adjustments and loving each other more for it. There's the couple with a million kids, the couple no one talks to, the drunks, the prudes, and the normals. I don't know where I fall yet. I'm almost a little bit of everything (though not old, and no babies). We're not drunks but we like to drink. We're young and probably got married for all of the wrong reasons, but they're right now. We were in debt up to our eyeballs, but now we've paid off everything but 1 credit card (stupid star card). I'm not sure where I stand. I do know, however, that even with all of the different kind of families I'm just proud that we are a Military Family.