Life

It Makes Sense…

When you’re a military spouse, and/or when you have toddlers running around, nothing makes sense.

This morning was a perfect example. I gave our three-year-old a new sippy cup. It did not have Minnie Mouse on it…. We had an appointment at the Vet Center for both Bill and I, so I did not have time to dig out requested Minnie Mouse sippy cup.

Our daughter proceeded to act as though I had ruined her entire life, by throwing herself on the kitchen floor and wailing for a solid three minutes (which felt like a lifetime) and then only stopped when I pointed out to her she had forgotten why she was upset.

In the end, she took the sippy cup because her brother was about to grab it from her.

Ugh…

The sippy cup war is not the point of this post.

Since writing the other day about how I felt as far as life of a military spouse whose husband has combat-related PTSD, I have felt better about things. This blog now has a purpose. I feel as though I have direction. I need to share my story of pain, and share how we are healing, because the more mil-spouses I meet, the more I realize, I am not alone.

There are times when being in a relationship with someone who has PTSD is lonely. It’s worse when you factor in my own Major Depressive Disorder. It’s like a whole house of craziness (just kidding….sort of).

So where do we go from here?

Well, there’s a lot of hurt and healing in a military marriage, so I will be open and share that with you. As a yoga instructor who focuses on helping people with mental health, I will try and help there too (just remember, I am not a doctor, I don’t play one on TV, and I can only tell you what I have experienced and what has helped me.)

I am working on a page of resources for other mil-spouses going through the same thing. Check back next week to see how I am coming along there.

Most importantly, be sure to share this website with other mil-spouses who are in the same boat. It’s lonely. It can be scary. It’s nice to have a friend.

I feel as though there are some really great blogs out there about being a military spouse. I’ll be sure to share those as we go. I just am yet to really find one about the mental aspect of military life and mental health, so here we go……

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Life

We Did It!

Well, it’s been a little over a week sine I posted, but all is well.

We got married (in the sense that we signed the paperwork and had a small get together, but no ceremony, no ring exchange (yes, we do have wedding rings), no official “I do” but who needs all that anyway?

Not us!

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Here is a picture of us at our get together after the hockey game (because everyone goes to a hockey game on their wedding day, right?

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Here is a group shot….with some missing.

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These are our camouflage and purple cupcakes….yes, I made the inside camo for him! Of course he smashed mine in my face, and I was blowing purple frosting into tissues for days….and I have yet to figure out how to get the video up for you 😦

As for everything else, I’m down with the flu again. Hopefully I can get back to writing more in a few days….

 

Military Spouse Life

Traditionally Nontraditional

Bill and I have spent the last two years beating to our own tune….er…you know what I mean. We don’t do things because we are “supposed” to do them. We do them because we want to and it works for us.

Our wedding is turning into a classic Bill and Tina moment….or week.

Please let me explain…

The Stingrays decided we couldn’t get married on the ice, so we then thought we would get married at the gazebo downtown where we had our first date….but that got complicated. We want to save money and have it for the baby, not spend it on getting married. We will do the whole big wedding thing when Talia is old enough to participate…so we are doing this the easiest way possible.

We went yesterday and applied for the license (which is $70 freaking bucks in South Carolina!!!) which we picked up today. Then Bill ran the paperwork up to his buddy Josh who is actually a tattoo artist, but is also a wedding officiant. Josh signed the paperwork, which is post-dated for Sunday, because that date is important to us (it is the two year anniversary of meeting). When Bill gets home, we will both sign it (I’ve been busy baking), and then Sunday when we wake up, we are married! I’m willing to bet there are less than a few people who have done it this way, if anyone. It’s probably not even allowed by the probate court, but I’m sure you won’t tell!

We have some people coming with us to Sunday’s Stingrays game, and then it’s out for Italian food. Super easy, super simple, super Tina & Bill style.

Now onto my Panettone dilemma.

Italians have a special Christmas cake (more like a fruit bread than a cake) called Panettone. It’s really old world style and traditional. My mother would always get it for my great-grandfather for Christmas because he LOVED it.

Every year since he’s been gone (10 years) I’ve gone out and bought the bread. I don’t eat it. I don’t even like it.

Last year was the first Christmas Bill and I were together. I bought a coffee flavored version of it with chocolate chips, hoping it would be better. It was eehhh. Bill claimed to like it, but most of it sat on top of the refrigerator, probably until February.

I could try making it myself (I AM a baker) but you need so many special items, it could get costly, and I’m busy baking things I know I like…but making it myself, I might be able to “fix” it.

It also wouldn’t be the same as buying it in that neat shaped box.

So what do I do? It’s a tradition for Italians, but so are many other things I make. It’s more about my great-grandfather than anything. I’m really having trouble letting go. I still wear his dog tag around my neck, next to Bill’s. I won’t even take it off on my wedding day 😉

His flag from his funeral (United States Army) sits on my dresser, along with a picture of him and my great-grandmother. It’s been hard. I still get depressed on his birthday and the day he passed away on. I’m talking uncontrollable depression. I usually take the day off from work, because working turns into crying.

I just know it’s a waste of food to buy the bread, and it’s me not letting go and moving on. I also know Talia will one day ask me why we have this tradition of buying the bread on the refrigerator every year and not eating it.

It would be sad not to buy the bread. Maybe Talia will be more like my great-grandfather and LOVE the bread. I guess I just answered my own question, and I better keep stashing it on top of the fridge with just one slice missing from Bill eating some. Maybe Talia will like the tradition…..