PSERENDIPITY

Last night I called Tim.  It was one of those times when he was probably just sitting there watching TV, and the phone rings, and it’s me.  Uneventful.

Except last night I presented a flurry of issues that I was having, all brought upon by myself and matters outside of my control.  I was really calling him because I just wanted him to calm me down, but I know he didn’t get that by what I was saying.  I was talking fast, all over the place, and really saying what amounted to nothing to him, but everything to me.  And then I told him I wanted him to make me feel better.

The whole time I was talking, he was saying “What?”, “Okay…”, you know, like he wasn’t really following me.  He didn’t know what to say.  But I thought that he should, and he didn’t, so I became even more frustrated.  Finally, he said “I don’t know what you want me to say.”  And I didn’t know what I wanted him to say, either.  But instead of saying that, I said “Well, I wanted you to make me feel better, but apparently you can’t.”  And that was the end of that. 

I felt bad about it, because, poor him, I drew him into this thing — MY thing — then I was mad when he didn’t have the magic words. For me and my thing.  So I called him back and he didn’t answer.  Go figure.

Then he called me back, and out of the blue he said the exact thing that I needed him to say.  And he didn’t even know he was saying it.  And he didn’t even mean to.  But, at the same time, all my anxieties ceased and I felt like I could conquer the world again. 

I’m so glad he’s mine.

And only mine.

This is a hard post to write because I think it may offend some people. So, I just want to start off by saying don’t take it personally, I understand where you were coming from and there’s no need to clarify what you may or may not have said.

If you’ve been reading Pserendipity for a while, you might know that one of my least favorite questions is “When are you getting married?” As more and more people find out that our plan is to move when Tim gets orders, you must imagine that this is, more than likely, the first thing that I’m asked. Still, one of my least favorite questions.

Not many people have said “That’s great! Now Aidan can grow up in a home with both his mother and father and your family can finally be together! Wonderful!” People seem to have a need to know — first and foremost — whether they can support this decision and it seems as if the only way that they can is if “I” also have a plan to get married. *Sigh*

My automatic response when people ask me this is “Probably November.” Tim and I have never had a conversation about getting married in November. In all honesty, we’ll probably just wake up one day and decide its a good day to get married. And I probably won’t even mention it to anyone after that. However, a certain date and time tends to make people feel better and then they can smile again and we can go on with the conversation.

When I told one of my closest friends, she said “You know I can support whatever you do as long as you get married.” Hmmmm. Another of my friends said “I would never move…..” That’s really all I heard because I knew what was coming next and my brain is automatically programmed to shut down after those first three words. Honey, I’ve done a whole heap of things that people would never, and here I sit, unscathed.

Before I move on, I want to make it clear that I understand that there is a general concern and I’m hypersensitive about the issue. So, let me tell you why. Precisely because of the two comments above.

For the person that says to me “I would never” and “What if he”, my answer to that is in order for you to speak those words, you would have to make some general assumptions about Tim’s character that offend me. What if he what? Child, please. It’s been 5 years, he already would have. There is not a thread of anything in me that would have me to believe that the man I know would “get me” all the way “out there” then leave me and his child. Aside from that, there shouldn’t be a thread in your body that would even think that I don’t have a plan for that. Hello, have we met?

For the person that supports me as long as I do it “the right way”, how about just supporting me no matter what way I do it? Listen, this move isn’t something that has happened all willy nilly. When Tim received orders to Memphis, we knew that we would all be leaving together. That was a decision that we made together. This has been in the works for a very long time, although it may not seem so to anyone else.

Ugh. I hate feeling like I’m explaining something to someone or that I’m seeking approval, because that isn’t what this is about. I suppose what I’m saying is that if you’re generally concerned, your concern is appreciated, but rest assured that Tim and I have made the best decisions for Tim and I and Aidan and Nadia, and we’ll continue to make them together. If your concern is that I’m doing something that you personally don’t think is right, then what’s right for you and me ain’t the same thing.

Tim and I are well aware of what we need to do and what we want to do, but if it doesn’t match up with what you feel is appropriate, well…it just doesn’t. So, you should just remember one word: November. Hope it makes you feel better.

On Friday night, I was perusing through Facebook, and I landed on Tim’s cousins Facebook page. I was there to leave a message, then I see “R.T. and Timothy H. are now friends!” I think “ooh, she knows a Tim H., how about that?” Then I think “wait a minute…that’s MY Tim H.!” Oh.hell.no. Tim is really on Facebook? So I click his little blue name, and see that not only is he really on Facebook, he has about 20 friends. WHAT?

So I fired off this text:
Me: You friend your ex-wife on facebook and not me? And all these other people? WHAT THE HELL?
Him: Why you in my stuff?
Me: I wasn’t. I was in your cousin’s stuff. Loser. I can’t be in your stuff ’cause we aren’t friends. Double Loser.
Him: I got all my ex-girlfriends on there, too. Now what?
Me: What? So! I got all my ex-boyfriends on there too!
Him: Brenda says hi.
Me: I don’t wanna be your Facebook friend anyway. That’s doing too much.
Him: Good.
Me: Whatever. I’ll just get my Daddy to friend you.
Him: Stop playing.
Me: Oh, I’m not playing. Just wait and see.

Okay, for real. I really don’t want to be Tim’s Facebook friend. That’s kinda like going through his phone or something. But I was still put off that he didn’t even ask me! I mean, he mentioned to me that he was on Facebook but I didn’t believe it. That was a couple weeks ago, and I didn’t think anything else about it. But, still. He could’ve sent me a friend request. It hurt my feelings that he didn’t. It’s the thought that counts.

What about you? Are you Facebook friends with your significant other, or did he also friend his ex-wife and 20 people and not you and then not even mention again that he was on Facebook and now you have to exact revenge on his little Facebooking heart…. Okay, okay, I know.

Since Tim was last given three options, all of those have changed.  Thanks, Navy, you’re the best.

At this point, only one thing is confirmed.  No Memphis, no overseas duty.  That’s two things, my bad. 

Which brings us to the place we least wanted to be…on a ship*.  I’m ride or die, so I’m prepared to ride.  So, as it stands, we’ll either be on the East Coast or the West Coast — either San Diego, Seattle, or Norfolk.   Neither of those three make me jump for joy, but Aidan said the other day that he’s going to move to San Diego.  From the mouths of babes, huh? 

More details and perhaps a final decision to come next month.  Until then, we prepare to move forward to destination:  unknown.  This is so fun.

*This doesn’t mean that anyone actually lives on a ship.  It just means that Tim goes to work on the ship daily, and when the ship leaves, he leaves.  When the ship is in port, it’s life as usual.

Really, I did have a post.  Did you come back at noon?  I’m sorry.  Today has been one of those days.  So, I’l just post it tomorrow instead.  I even forgot what it was about now. 

So, I know that Cuba is Cuba and the initial thing is how awesome is that?  Babs’ comment below summed up my initial reaction.  However, so as not to lead blogworld on and to show Tim that I have a handle on passive-aggressiveness, there are some downsides to Cuba.

1.  The base is the only place you can go.  You can’t go out into Cuba, and Cuba can’t come in to you.  So, there’s really no local culture.  Just an American base. 

2.  The living area on base is only about 5 miles long and wide.  So, go outside of your house, mark a 5 mile radius, and stay in it for months at a time.  That’s where we will live, work, play, go to school, etc.

3.  We have to stay in base housing, so Tim loses money.

4.  We have no idea where or if I will work.  I’m sure I’ll find a job — in fact, I look forward to having the opportunity to do something different.  But, it’s quite the thing to move out of the country with the same bills you had in the Country with nothing but a hope that you’ll work.

5.  Even though you can leave to go home to the States, it isn’t inexpensive.

6.  No one knows what Tim will be doing there.  They might assign him to 12 hour shifts, 7 days a week. 

So, you see, there is a huge amount of uncertainty that comes along with moving the family to the lovely 5 mile island of Cuba.  Tim, being the man that he is, ain’t really feeling placing us in any kind of jeopardy just so I can enjoy the Cuban experience.  Plus, there’s hurricanes.  Dang!  I didn’t think about hurricanes…..

Good Morning, Fab 14!  Happy Monday!  I know, I’ve been a bad blogger for the past couple days, and I apologize.  I was going to start this week with a weekend post because we did have quite the lovely weekend, but I’ll do that tomorrow.  Do you mind?

Today, I want to talk about something that I wasn’t going to blog about.  But, I figure that it’s something that happening in life right now, and it might make for an interesting story — and maybe you’d like to go on our journey with us. 

Remember that I was moving to Memphis?  Well, that was because Tim had decided to retire from the Navy and live in Memphis.  Then he got promoted, so now retirement is off the table.  Which means that he has to take orders to another duty station for the next 3 years.  We decided 3 years ago when he left Norfolk and came to Memphis that no matter what happened, when he left Memphis, we would all leave together.  So, our journey begins.

What happens is that he gets a choice of orders, and he has a chance to accept the orders that he likes.  We’re now at the point where he has gotten his options:

Option One is that he can stay in Memphis for 3 years, after completing an approximately 8-14 month tour out of the country, and without his family.

Option Two is that he be assigned to a ship in Norfolk.  Said ship would sail the deep blue sea for anywhere from 10 days to 12 months at a time.  When he isn’t sailing, he’ll be at home.  When he is sailing, Aidan and I will be in Norfolk looking at each other crazy.

Option Three is that he travel to Guantanamo Bay Naval Station, Cuba, and we live there for 30 months.

And there you have it.  The first decision that we have to make is certainly not an easy one, either family or career wise, but we do what we have to do.  Saturday night, Tim and I listed our choices in order of preference. What do you think my list is? 

When we were in Memphis, I said to Tim that me moving would mean giving up some things, which, to me, might feel like giving up everything.  When he asked “like what”, all I could think about was my house.  But I said “like…my freedom.”  By which I meant my independence.  I’m accustomed to doing what I want, when I want, spending how much money I want, making the decisions about Aidan how I want, and letting Tim know after I’ve done what I want.  For the most part, that’s been working out well for me. 

Then I looked around.  We were in the kitchen, and he was seasoning some ribs while I was making baked beans and my attempt at cleaning out the oven.  The kids were doing their thing, and it was Sunday afternoon.  All day long I was thinking how glad I was that I could stay.  And he was happy, too.  We don’t get too many Sundays.  Then I thought.  Independence gone is quite a fair exchange for this.  And him.  And us.  Okay, I give.

Let me tell you how much I give.  I was folding clothes that Sunday  Sidestory:  I’ve decided to make a concerted effort to contribute to Tim’s well-being at least half as much as he contributes to mine.  So, Sunday I decided to take on laundry at Tim’s.  This may seem like nothing to you, but it was huge, I tell you.  I.frickin.hate.laundry.  So, I was folding clothes.  And a tshirt had a hole in it.  I say, in amazement “Tim!  This tshirt has holes in it!?!  What in the world?”   He then made some comment about not having anybody to take care of him…cue violins…I stopped listening. 

Monday I was in WalMart, and out of the blue I remembered that this dood has a tshirt with a hole in it.  I found myself picking up the phone to find out what size tshirts and boxers he prefers.  After all, he needs someone to take care of him.  I give.

Tim’s daughter is spending the summer with him in Memphis and she goes to camp during the day.  So, on this one particular day she went home with a friend from camp whose mom works on the base with or somewhere around Tim.

The friend’s mom took them to the mall, and they wind up in Kirkland’s, the home interior store.  Since Tim has been talking about decorating his house, Nadia saw some things that she thought he would like and she bought the stuff.  A LOT of stuff, with Tim’s ATM card.  In her mind, she was doing something nice for Daaaddy (you know, her and Aidan kill me doing stuff for Daaaddy.  They probably wouldn’t have bought me a damn thing.  But I digress). 

So, Tim goes to pick her up and he sees all the stuff.  Livid.  He understands why Nadia would have thought it was nice to get him the stuff, but why on earth would that lady let her buy it?  It was over $300.  The lady’s explanation:  “Aw, Tim, you’re a Senior Chief.  You can afford it.”  Then I’m sure some hee hees and ha has and some eyelash batting while showing all her damn teeth.

Anyway, this is the part that sent me over the edge.  She says “I’ll come over and help if you need some help putting it up!”

Oh, really now?  You will?  So, the Senior Chief doesn’t know how to put sh*t together and hang it up…you gotta come “help”.  Ya’ll see where I’m going here.  She was trying to get at my man!  She let Nadia spend all that money, I think she probably encouraged it, so she could weasel her way into the house.  That’s my take on it. 

Tell me if I’m wrong, cause I’ve been known to be wrong before…but I know when my homeland security levels need to be raised and this chic is on my radar.  I mean, here I am down here in Mississippi trying to make it do what it do, and this lady is Memphis is overtly coming for my man — which means she’s coming for me.  Four words for her:  Homie.don’t.play.dat.