On Independence

Our delicious and patriotic fruit salad! (Personal Photo)

Happy Independence Day!

This sentiment is a day late for the 4th, but it's really never too late to celebrate our independence. I'm very thankful to be able to raise my family in a country where freedom is celebrated. Yesterday, we enjoyed some quality family time, participating in several classically American activities: a parade, a hotdog cookout, a festival with games and music, and fireworks, of course!

Independence is something I've thought about a lot lately, and not just because of the holiday, or because it's incorporated in the title of my blog. It's because my baby is now eight months old, and he's discovering his own independence. The tiny baby that used to fall asleep on me is now a big baby, triple his original size. Nursing isn't his only source of food and comfort anymore. He eats just about any new food he can get his hands on. And he's learning how to move on his own! Although he's not quite crawling, he's rocking and stretching out to get wherever he may want to be.

It's a little scary to think that my baby is taking his first steps toward not needing me, but it's wonderful to celebrate it as well. I've had a desire for autonomy for as long as I can remember, and it probably started with my first taste of moving by myself. I'm proud that I've been able to support myself independently in the past, even if I'm not doing it now, and I know I'll be proud of my baby when he grows up to support himself.

For now, I'll enjoy holding him as long as he'll let me.

My First Son

Photo Source

I've spent a couple of posts doting on my new baby, and since it was my first time giving birth, it makes it appear as if I'm a new mother. I'm not. I entered motherhood the moment I married my husband.

Some would argue that being a step mother is not real motherhood, but I disagree. It's true that it is different. You don't go through the pain of labor, you don't experience that magic moment where you see you baby for the first time, and you don't fall instantly in love. There isn't a bond formed based on the child's complete dependence on you as caregiver. No, you are a tentative acquaintance at first. And you're certainly not the only woman in that child's life!

A Memorable Journey

Or: A "Sequel" to the Chronicle of The Move

I've been living in California for about half a year now, and I'm just now getting around to finishing up my little summary of our move. Oops?

To be honest, I really don't think there's much more to it. I wanted to spend more than one blog post talking about the last leg of our trip, which consisted of a nice stay in San Diego, a longer-than-expected stay in Los Angeles, and finally, our drive up the coast to lovely Monterey. Most of those details have been somewhat lost in memory, though.

What hasn't been lost in memory yet was a completely different journey, happening simultaneously. One that took place inside me, which was totally weird but kind of awesome at the same time.

An Announcement and a Story

My last entry, I said I'd be taking another 4-month hiatus, and people, I keep my promises. Actually, I'm 18 days short of four months, but who's counting?

I could have posted in January, with big promises about better upkeep of the blog. But you, dear reader, can thank me for failing to do that. Because I would have failed miserably. It turns out, I'm busier this year than I was last year.

In 2013, I left out a pretty big detail of my life. You see, I spent a large part of the year pregnant. And on November 2nd, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy!

© Shelley Kemp Photography

Feminism and the Homemaker

This morning, I opened up my blog feeds to discover this awesome post on A Practical Wedding, and I completely identified with it. As someone who currently selects the "homemaker" box when asked about employment simply because I cannot identify with the term "unemployed" ...well, just read the blog post.

My husband has called me a feminist before, and it's always with a bit of an eye roll. And before I married him and left my job to move across the Atlantic Ocean to live with him, I never would have though of myself as a feminist - I was just a career-oriented young person. Which probably made me a feminist simply because of my gender, but I really never gave it a thought. It's funny how it took coming home full-time to really make me identify with the term.

This morning, I shampooed part of the carpet, baked a batch of mini quiche for our Officers' Spouses Club (am I seriously a member of this?), and I'm about to head out the door to meet up with my knitting group. And aside from dealing with the carpet, I actually enjoy most of this. Granted, I think I'd rather be working on my PhD, but this is actually an enjoyable situation.

And now, for another 4-month break from this blog. Thanks for checking in!

Chronicle of The Move, Part I

We've been without internet for a few weeks, thanks to complications with the move. Sometimes, it just takes a few days (or more) to get everything installed in a new home.

We are (semi-officially) moved in!

Granted, we are still unpacking boxes, but they are more than half way finished, and we have all of our utilities set up! Most importantly, the KITCHEN is unpacked - which means we can actually cook here! Yes, I'd call that moved in.

I now feel that I have the time to go through our crazy moving adventure, which began a month and a half ago. Without further ado, here it is.

Personal Photo

Part I: The Road Trip.

We started in North Carolina, prepared for our 10+ day adventure to California with a caravan of my car, the Jeep hauling a camper, and the pets! 

Brought to you from a brand new location!

Far too much has happened over the past few months! So much, that updating this blog was not a priority in my life.

As is customary for us military families, we've moved! I'm not new to the PCS rodeo, but this was my first time moving as a spouse, and I have to say, it has been wildly different than any other military move I've experienced. More difficult? In some ways, no, in others, definitely.

Moving as a spouse was LESS difficult because:

• I didn't have to outprocess OR inprocess! That was my husband's job. No trekking around base with a checklist, only to discover every office has TERRIBLE hours. 
• I had someone to keep me company during the move! Thanks, husband.

Moving as a spouse was MORE difficult because:

• I had zero control over any of the process. This drove me nuts. I hate it when I'm made to feel as if I cannot take care of myself, and there was a lot of that. When we got here, we tried to split up some of the transitioning tasks. Every time I made a phone call, I found myself asking if it was okay if it was ME coming in, and not the actual active duty service member. Because it sure is an inconvenience when you're told you CAN'T actually accomplish what you set out to do!
• Tricare was a pain in the rear end. Oh wait, that's not just because of moving, it's because of always.
• I had someone to drive me crazy during the move! Sorry, husband.

There were many things that were comparable within this move. For one, I found that finding a house here has been similar to house hunting in Germany, of all places. (For reference, I consider my Germany move as my #1 most difficult move to date.) But that is a story for another day.

Another day that will come SOON, I promise! I have a lot more adventures to cover!