7 Quick Takes (Pretty Baby Edition)

— 1 —

Last weekend, the in-laws came in town, and we had lots of fun!  Even though we live only 15 minutes away, we still had not taken baby to the beach.  That situation was fixed, and I think she liked it.  It was windy and overcast, though.

— 2 —

Also, our baby is cutting both of her bottom teeth at once.

See those little white nubs coming out right below her tongue?

This whole week I've been trying to get her to show me her teeth so I can see their progress.  And then I end up getting "Show Me Your Teeth" by Lady Gaga in my head.  (You can listen to it here if you want; language warning.)

— 3 —

I'm really peeved that the "Stuff I've Made" page on my blog hasn't been working for the past week.  I did a normal edit one day, and it just crapped out on me.  I'm hopefully going to get that fixed soon.  But if you want to see a few of the things I've made, check out my "Pinned it, made it" board on Pinterest.

— 4 —

Did anyone else read this ridiculous article about the CO of the USS Pittsburgh submarine who got relieved after only ONE WEEK in command?  An extramarital affair 23-year-old is bad enough but faking your own death to get her off your case?  He sounds like a real piece of work.

— 5 —

I've been reading a book lately that I have come to absolutely hate.  I've read this author before and liked his work, but he went a different direction this time and it's just not working for me.  The problem is that it's such a quick read that I feel like I should just finish out the book to make sure I still hate it.  It's a collection of short stories, so it's not like there's any plot I'm missing if I don't finish it.  I don't think I could give the book a real review, though, if I stop.  I remember an article in my high school newspaper where a girl tried to review a book she never finished and it came off as really ignorant and amateur.  But then, what about the opportunity cost of my time?  Can I do something better with those 30 minutes of my life (perhaps writing a halfway-decent blog post)?  What would you do in this situation?

— 6 —

I won an awesome giveaway over at Nicole's blog, and I'm really loving the hair clip I won!  It's a Flexi Hair Clip from Lilla Rose, and I've worn it almost every day this week.

Isn't it pretty?

— 7 —

My sister is a second grade teacher at a Title One (high poverty) school back in Georgia.  She wanted to get some materials for her class that she couldn't afford on her lowly teacher's salary.  She posted the projects on DonorsChoose.org earlier this summer so that random generous people could help.  Well, she got the best surprise ever on Monday when she found out that the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation had funded the rest of BOTH of her projects!!  I'm hoping some other teachers got some fabulous news like that this week.  Check out DonorsChoose to see what projects the teachers in your area need help with!


Check out more Quick Takes over at Conversion Diary :)

Celebrating

This past Friday, I celebrated two very different occasions.  On the one hand, it was my birthday.  But more importantly, it was B's Captain's retirement.  I had never been to a formal military retirement ceremony before (or even a change of command), so I thought this was pretty cool.

Even though the guy was a submariner (a previous commander of the USS Pennsylvania), he decided to have his ceremony right under the replicas of the Blue Angel jets flying in the Naval Aviation Museum.  Hey, when in Rome . . .

If you look closely, you can see the Dolphins on his chest

I've only seen B in his dress whites ONCE before, and it was after we had driven for two days straight (to get to this duty station), so I didn't appreciate it much.  As this is the second and probably last time I got to see it, I was very excited, as he and the other LTs were Sideboys (that term cracks me up!).

B is on the left

One of the special parts of the event was a Flag Ceremony.  The MC read this poem while a flag that had flown atop the Captain's former sub was passed along the line, saluted by each sideboy, and then presented to the Captain.

Sorry some of those pictures are a bit blurry--I was actually standing at the back holding a squawking infant in one arm while taking pictures with the other! 

B was the lucky one who got to hand it off to the Captain.  He told me it was because he was the shortest, as they were in height order.

I also really liked how the Captain thanked his family, and they gave his spouse a certificate as she transitioned from "Navy Wife" to "Navy Wife, Retired."  It was also their daughter's high school graduation; her ceremony was the following morning.  The family got to leave on the red carpet as a Boatswain's Mate rang a bell and declared, "Navy Family, Retired, Departing."

During the ceremony, the MC read a brief timeline of the Captain's naval career.  He was commissioned a week before I was born in 1984, and for whatever reason, that was just really neat to me.  Actually, at the party that night, it was mentioned that it was my birthday, and the Captain asked me (slightly joking) if I was 22.  I said, "Nope, I'm the embodiment of the length of your naval career--this is what 28 years looks like," as I leaned into my husband and my baby.  "Looks pretty good, right?"

Yep, it looks VERY good.  :)

the start of our military farewell

Last week I got what will hopefully be the last "military surprise" dumped on me.  In the grand scheme of things, it's really not a big deal at all, but it has changed some plans around.

B put in his official resignation letter with the Navy last week.  We knew this was coming; we planned on this.  However, when he submitted it, he was told that he has to get out in August.  We have been telling everyone November 2012 for the past year or so.  I know it's only a matter of months, but it was still a bit of a surprise.  He even asked to be extended a few more months, and the powers that be weren't having it.

Discharging from the military is simultaneously frightening, liberating, the most natural thing in the world, and apparently the most unnatural thing around this base.  The base we are currently at seems to have two types of people: those who just joined the military (currently in A-school or flight school), and those who are only a few years from retirement (currently teaching/commanding A-school and flight school).  For the record, B works at a command with a ton of civilians, and it's not A-school or flight school.  I've met very few people in that mid-range level, but I love it when I find them.  It usually happens around here that when I tell people, "He's getting out," they respond, "He's retiring?"  At our last base, I watched oodles of men and women separate from the service, and no one batted an eye because they knew how much it sucks to be on a ship.  I guess here they're still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?

B and I have gone back and forth about him joining the Reserves, and after a talk with an O-6 from the aviation world who discouraged it for submarine officers, I think we both agreed that we will be fine without those headaches.  (In case you're wondering, B has a degree in electrical engineering and can also do nuclear engineering thanks to the Navy.)  When I first brought up the Reserves, B told me I should join it.  I'll keep that in my back pocket if times get rough--I think I'd make a good Reservist!

We purposely planned to have our first child while on this shore tour.  The timing worked out right, he's home all but 3 predictable days a month, the pre-natal visits and birth are free, and we were ready.  I'm glad that our plan is panning out, but the fact that we will have a child adds a bit of worry to the date bump-up.  B doesn't want to start a new job until October, so I'm trying to factor in the cost of insurance to our 2012 budget.  If it was just the two of us, we'd probably just go without.  It's not looking very cheap right now, but hopefully we'll get some answers when he goes to his Transition Assistance class on base.

You may have noticed that I rarely post about the military on my blog.  I started this whole thing to pass some time while he was deployed last year, but everything went rather swimmingly so there wasn't too much to vent about.  Plus, we'd already been through it before (with me as a girlfriend), and it was ten times worse.  I purposely never branded this thing as a "milspouse" blog, since I've known that B wouldn't be career military since the moment I met him.  I also realize that I will have spent just as much time out on my own in civilian land (post-college) as I have under the protective cocoon of the Navy.  That's about three years with each.  That fact won't stop me from missing the amazing perks we get around these parts, namely the commissary, free healthcare, and a free gym.

One thing I realized I really won't miss are the military traditions.  I didn't grow up in a military town, I don't have any close family who made a career of it (except my grandfather, but he died before I was born), I didn't know the difference between officer and enlisted until meeting B, and frankly, B just isn't into the traditions, so I guess I'm not either.  He wouldn't even take me to the military ball once we got married (we went to one in Virginia when we were dating, and it was pretty lame so I don't blame him).  I've only seen B dolled up in his dress whites once in our entire 5-year relationship.  I'll still have a soft spot for submarines, especially women on subs, but that will probably be all I take with me.

Oh, and this great picture of him with the Blue Angels from yesterday morning:

B is in khakis and black jacket on the right.

Since this post is semi-appropriate for the upcoming Veterans Day, feel free to see some thoughts and research on the semantics of that word (and whether it applies to B and other active-duty submariners) from a post I did last year.

While I'm ready to tackle the civilian world, I'm still wary about the next place we live possibly being our "forever" home.  But more on that later!

 

a pier-less homecoming

Yesterday morning, I awoke and immediately took to the computer to start tracking flights. He had started his day-long "tour of airports" while I was still out enjoying the Ghent Summer Bar Crawl (and regretting that final shot).  When I awoke, I found that B had landed on time in Munich, then landed his connection in Frankfurt. As I was walking to mass, he was boarding his trans-continental flight to D.C.

I made my preparations after I got back.

It seems so simple, but I was more than excited to have 2 towels hanging in the bathroom!

At the last FRG meeting, I won a "homecoming prep kit" -- I didn't know then that I would be need it so soon:

B and I are not the most festive people in the world, so this "patriotic bunting" is quite out of place for us.

Of course I had to decorate our front door:

Let's take a closer look at that:

I am by no means an artist.  Or even an elementary school teacher.

Around 10pm or so, I headed over to the Norfolk airport to anxiously await his arrival.  Since I wouldn't be getting a flower from him like you get on the pier, I headed to the Dollar Tree (before 6pm; it was Sunday after all!) and got some balloons for him instead.  And I tied them to a bottle of Gatorade to weigh them down, because balloon weights are just a waste of money.

Retired sailors are everywhere in Norfolk, and they're all super-friendly.  The lovely wife took my picture!

 This sign was right next to me.  Yea!

And now for the man of the hour!

4 flights, 28 sleepless hours, over 100 pounds of luggage, no more duty days ever(!), and 2 sissy balloons

Leaving the airport around midnight, and showing him that I'd gotten better at one-arm photography

And before you think everything is just sunshine, rainbows, and a second honeymoon, let's remember there was a reason he was sent home early instead of coming on the boat.  He dumped all 4 bags onto the living room floor when we got in last night, and started wading through it to find a clean uniform he could wear into squadron today (and his LT bars, which he got freakin' 9 months ago but never tacked on).  Then we spent the entire morning at the Personal Property Office, setting up our move and begging our landlord to extend our lease another 10 days.  Quite romantic, indeed.

The room looks slightly better now, but only thanks to the gabillion loads of laundry I've been doing.

We may not have gotten the "romance" of the pier (or him in his Whites!) this time, but I sure am glad to have him home!!

wham bam family gram

One of the most common question us submariners' wives (and fiancées and girlfriends) get asked is how we communicate with our men.  It usually goes something like this: "Can he call you from the boat?"  "Will he get letters in the mail?"  "Does he have internet?"  "What about email?"

These questions have various answers depending on what his sub is doing.  Which is generally a mystery even to us wives, but we do know when they're on mission or off or in port or not.  At best, he's in port and has access to all those modern forms of communications (snail mail sent to the boat's address gets delivered in a port).  At second best, he can send an email.  Sometimes it makes it through the ocean, sometimes not.  It's definitely not quick, and there have been quite a few emails that either he or I sent that were "lost at sea."  And then there's the worst form of communication, something I compare to blowing bubbles toward a brick wall and hoping a few of them make it to the other side: the FAMILY GRAM.

Back in the day before email, Family Grams were the only way a wife could tell her husband what was happening.  She filled out a form with no more than 50 words and either dropped it off or mailed it to someone.  Then her message was combined with other wives' messages into a larger notice that was then sent to the boat.  As for now, in this 'laptop for every child' era, we email our 50-word, all capital letters family gram message to a certain email address.  I sometimes refer to it as a "screaming tweet," but luckily it is a bit longer.  Yes, it probably gets read and screened.  This is a one-way communication--the boys can't send anything while on certain missions--so it's kind of like waving to your actor-friend on stage who can't quite acknowledge you (lest he breaks character) but hopefully hears you.  And yes, sometimes the boys never even receive them.  Sigh.

However, I will say that during the previous mission during my husband's current deployment, he may not have received all my family grams, but he did indeed  receive the most important ones.  Yes my friends, that is how he FOUND OUT HIS ORDERS!  Which is effing ridiculous, in my opinion.  But verbal orders are supposed to come from the CO - who in this case wasn't receiving anything not mission-specific.  And it was smack-dab in the middle of this rather lengthy mission that verbal orders were starting to be handed out.  So I took it upon myself to call the detailer multiple times, leaving a message including every form of communication to find me . . . and that resulted in . . . absolutely ZILCH.  No call, no email, no carrier pigeon, nada.  Why yes, I am still bitter, since you asked.

So then, enter our CO's wife, who is not only a rockstar of epic proportions, but also a saint.  And she has a contact at squadron.  Praise the Lord for connections.  She filled me in on staying in Norfolk, and I sent my "What, Norfolk again?!  I was hoping for Hawaii!" family gram to the husband.  Which he apparently received.  And then a week and a half later, my angelic CO's wife called me back and told me we'd been changed to Pensacola.  Pensacola!  I could live with that!  Back to north Florida, nice white beaches, possible Southern accents, even a new time zone.  I believe the call about this came on April 19.  April 20th, 2010, just happened to be the day the giant BP Oil Spill in the Gulf started.  I didn't mention that in my family gram about our orders change--gotta stay positive for the boys, right?  And yes, he received this one as well.  The Family Gram Fairy was on my side.

One positive I will give to family grams is that it makes life easier.  Any Navy spouse can tell you about how she obsesses over checking her email when her sweetheart is at sea.  Every time we log on, we get our hopes up, and then usually get let down.  But when we know it's not coming, we don't worry about it.  I don't forget about my husband; I just know that all is well.  And I think a lot of sub gals like to pretend that our proverbial "Navy Wife" badge is perhaps slightly bigger because of our lack of communication with the boys.  In each military community, there's a sense of pride--especially for the "who has it roughest" title.  And when the boat is gone, the wives have to defend their title with the other wives.

To that I'll say I thank God every day he's not in the Army.  I'll take my family grams over a year-long deployment to the sandbox any day.  I don't need a badge that big.

all blogs need a first post

Hello world.  Since it's my first post, I suppose I should introduce myself to the blogosphere-at-large.

I'm Cat.  My initials are C.W.  There's a low-rated broadcast television station with the same initials.  My sister-in-law had the initials before me.  I got mine on October 3, 2009, the day I married my husband.

I am a military wife.  A submarine officer's wife, if you want specifics (and I generally want specifics).  So yes, I'm a milspouse.  But what does that actually mean?  I don't stand 3-section duty, eat midrats in the wardroom, sleep 6 hours at a time in a coffin bed, sit in at captain's mast, or refer to cleaning time as "field day."  I never had to cut my hair against my will, I've never had a job I couldn't quit willingly and without repercussion, I've never used blousing straps or shirt stays, and I don't have shiny gold dolphins pinned to my chest.  That's his life, not mine.  And he's deployed right now, so his life won't factor in here until later--when he (we?) starts shore tour.  Can't wait.

We have no pets, we have no babies, and we're not even starting some grand adventure like my friends in California and Italy.  The aforementioned shore tour is in Pensacola.  There are no subs in Pensacola.  There's not even a port in Pensacola.  We've been in Norfolk almost 3 years - subs and ports and shipyards everywhere I look.  I lived in Jacksonville prior to moving to Virginia, so I'm no stranger to north Florida.  I'm originally from Lawrenceville, GA, and attended the University of Georgia in Athens.

This blog is more than the story of our life.  It's my musings on just about everything.  It's my current thoughts, my future ideas, my view of past events.  It will contain things I think people should know, and links at every possible turn.  It will also contain my unapologetic opinion.  My blog, my opinion.  If you don't like it, stop reading.  I'm a knowledge junkie, a grammar nazi, a devout and zealous Catholic, a slight tomboy, a cubicle-life escapee, a former AmeriCorps member, a Soprano 2, a beach lover, a semi-picky eater, and a slightly clueless yet eager domestic goddess.  And I'm sure all of those things (and more!) will make great blog posts in due time.