I have been married for more than three years now. It should not have come as a surprise that I am the wife of a LtCol, but there you have it. I have been surprised by it. It turns out that in C. Springs we mostly hung out with my friends from the synagogue and knitting and wherever else. In fact, only two friends from Eric's office ever stopped by period (one to drop a meal after Eileen came home). And, of course, the first year we were married, he spent on Ascension Island and I was still happily doing work for Los Alamos.
So, after never being a Captain's wife or even really a Major's wife, here I am at a very small unit, the wife of the Squadron Commander. That means that everyone that I know other than the neighbors, the bakery employees, and my hairdresser either works for my husband or has someone in their immediate family that works for him. It has led to some awkward moments for me.
Sometimes people are offering kindnesses to me, and I cannot tell if they are kindnesses that other people would also receive. I try really hard to not accept any help or offers...but sometimes that can be silly too. Here are a couple of examples with names and facts distorted to protect the innocent:
I am hoisting Eileen and trying to precariously balance dishes and silverware that we have borrowed from the loaner closet at the base. Eventually I notice that Eileen is sliding down the side of me and I still have about 30 yards to go to the car (I came close to giving the metric distance). I put the packages down on the ground and readjust Eileen. At that point a Sergeant offers to help. I assume that he would do this for anyone and that the chore of moving the Corelleware service for 4 is not too onerous. I accept the help.
-- side note to those who are not military -- everyone moves here from somewhere else and it always takes a while for your household goods to catch up. Every base has a loaner closet that is intended to help you get started in your home until your belongings arrive. Usually, they have dishes and some cookware, maybe a pitcher and collander, sometimes an iron, and often a pack 'n play. No bedding or towels are available, though. You are free to borrow what you need for a finite amount of time. Eric and I had packed as though there were only to be two of us eating. My parent's visit necessitated borrowing a little from the closet. --
I am sitting with Eileen and an Airman stops by and offers me some old baby cloths that she says she doesn't need. To put this offer into perspective: there are 4 babies that I know of that are expected to be born between now and mid-September. 3 of them are expected to be girls and one is undetermined...at least three of them are first children, and possibly the fourth as well. Clearly, there are many people who could use baby cloths. Thanks to my friends and relations and one very special Sunday school parent, Eileen is set until age 3 give or take an outfit. Eventually, I discover from talking to her that she intends to have more children. I offer to store the cloths in my ridiculously big home, instead of using them.
I am often offered services of offspring: my kids babysit, clean house, etc. I know that in the real world I would be jumping at good babysitters. I am still unsure how to handle these (for the time being I have said a conditional yes -- with pay -- to the occasional extra set of hands for Eileen so that I can unpack -- but with me still being the primary food source, we aren't ready to leave her alone with anyone). I am staying away from the cleaning offer. This is especially true because many of the bathroom chemicals appear to be harsher than the US counterparts....I don't want to expose someone else's children to those chemicals if it is not necessary.
I am getting used to it being a topic of gossip. I am trying to be cordial to everyone and learn names. Turns out that not sleeping makes my memory for names even worse (who knew that it could get worse). I am getting used to the idea that my parents were wrong when they named me and that my first name should really have been Ma'am. I am getting used to the idea that my coming into a room might end all conversations and cause people to stand up -- even in the chow hall. I am getting used to the idea that my asking an innocent question might take people away from their actual work and send them on a wild goose chase as they drop what they are doing to try to help me-- so I don't ask them what is in the soup, or whether they have noticed if the wireless is working, or anything else like that.
Meanwhile, the inevitable has finally occurred. Our household goods will arrive tomorrow sometime. They claim that it will only take one day to uncrate all seven crates. Yes, you read that right....we had 7 crates come with us and two go to storage.
Expect that I will be posting only twice a week until I get stuff unpacked.
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