Don’t wonder why people go crazy.

We all have a story. Some of us have longer, more tragic stories. Some are more fortunate than others. Some see the negative in everything, others the positive.

If you know me on Facebook, I am a happy, easy going person who uses profanity at least once within a two-minute time period and will do anything to make someone laugh. For the most part, I am happy. I am so fortunate to have the people I have in my life. I have a husband who would do anything to make me happy. I have a best friend who would put yours to shame. I have a group of battle buddies who keep me wonderfully entertained with their shenanigans. My son is… well, he’s my son. The sun rises and sets to that boy, and I get to be his mom. I am in a good place in my life, but with all of that being said, behind all of that, there are deep voids I am trying to fill.

I recently told my best friend, Shawna, that my husband and I were thinking about having another kid. After a couple of years of deliberation, we decided now’s as good of a time as any. For a lot of people, having a child while stationed overseas — Korea, no less — wouldn’t be good time. For us, it works perfectly. Why? Well, it’s simple: I have more of a support system here than I ever did in the states. My side of the family was almost entirely nonexistent during the pregnancy/delivery of my son, Matthew. Hell, they still are almost entirely nonexistent. I think Matthew has seen my side of the family maybe a handful of times. And that’s being generous. They don’t understand this military lifestyle. Even with being on the other side of the world, they don’t understand why I don’t call often. Tom’s side, well, his parents are recently-retired Air Force, and the rest of his family are scattered around the country. So, they’re off the hook; they get it. Here in Korea, I have the most amazing circle of friends anyone could ever ask for. The only thing I would change is meeting them sooner, rather than later. My friends became the family I wanted. We, as military families, have to make it — whatever “it” may be — work.  It’s sink or swim, and we are doggy-paddling the best we can.  (On a side note, I told Shawna I never had a baby shower, and I’m pretty sure she almost passed out. Why not? Truth be told, it’s because I didn’t have any friends who cared enough to throw one for me. Boo hoo, right? Life’s tough, and it is what you make it. Really, a party doesn’t matter. A happy, healthy baby — that’s what matters. Well, that’s what I told myself, anyway.)

We are all going through SOMETHING — deployment, loss, loneliness… And, for crying out loud, give yourself a pat on the back for dealing with it the best way you know how. You’re not perfect, but hell, you’re dealing with it. We, military spouses, are dealt lemons quite a bit, and we are masters of making lemonade. Your soldier isn’t deployed during Christmas? You move Christmas. Your soldier isn’t around to help with PCSing? You’ve got it taken care of. Car broke down while your soldier is TDY? You’re handling it. All the crappy stuff likes to happen when they’re gone. We, military spouses, are fiercely independent, whether we realize it or not. (Don’t you hate being referred to as a “dependent”? I know I do.)

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