Tanecia’s husband and children outside

A Day in the Life

Written By Tanecia Favors

When I hear the phrase “a day in the life” I think of someone who shares what a typical day looks like for them. You know the whole “wake up at 5:45 a.m., work out, make coffee, take a few minutes for themselves before they hit the ground running” type of day. Outside of gearing up for deployments, I have no real everyday routine that would make up a day in the life of a military spouse.

My days look like any other person’s whose life mimics that of a wife, mother, homemaker, entrepreneur, nurse, etc. The list can go on and on. I can tell you that “a day in the life” for this military spouse includes constantly thinking, “Oh, I got this,” only to then think that’s not true. “I definitely don’t have this.”

As military spouses we’re conditioned to “expect the unexpected.” Do we really live our everyday lives like this? For me, the answer is no. If I did, there wouldn’t be any room to experience the joys that show up regularly in the mundane day-to-day routines. Don’t get me wrong, the thought is always there on the back burner, but that’s life, right? The day I want to share with you had the potential to be like any other day of shore duty. Instead, it proved to be one of those days that remind you that you have something on the back burner. I know that whether you are a seasoned spouse or a new-to-this-life spouse, you can relate. Simply because this could be, will be or has been a day in any military spouse’s life.

Every morning starts off the same for us lately. I roll over to silence that horrible alarm that lets me know another day has come too early. I briefly remember the hubs kissing me on the cheek as he headed out the door sometime before the sun came up. I sit on the side of the bed and listen to see if either of our toddlers are awake, and I hear nothing. The silence tells me I might have a few minutes to myself if the floor doesn’t creak as I walk around the room. I play my children’s wake-up playlists on their devices in their room. Just as I was turning the lights on and opening the blinds in my middle child’s room, my cell phone rings. I ignore it because it’s early in the morning and I’m unavailable until at least 9 a.m. As I’m picking out clothes for the day, my phone rings again and I’m like, “OK, maybe it’s something important.” I pick it up just in time to see “My David” (how the hubs is saved in my phone).

I answer and immediately ask is he OK before he can even say hello. He says, “Yes, but are you sitting down?” My heart sinks, and I freeze as I ask, “No, why?” He replies with three words. Words that we have all heard in some variation or another, “I got orders.”

I walk back into my room and sit on the edge of the bed. He asks if I’m OK, and I say, “Depends on the orders.” He confirms my fears. He tells me he is returning to sea. A piece of me knew it was a possibility when retirement was taken off the table (don’t even ask). But for it to be a reality, our reality, my reality, just hit me harder than I thought.

We got off the phone, and I continued my morning routine with the toddlers. I did a good job of holding it together; at least I thought I was doing a good job. About halfway home after dropping my children off at daycare, I felt my chest tighten, a lump build in my throat and my eyes started to water. It hit me that my husband, my partner, the person I had finally let myself get used to being home every day for forever was in fact on a timetable to leave me, to be and do “all the things” on my own.

It hit me that I had allowed myself to be spoiled by him being home every day. I could call him whenever I wanted. I could make all the plans in the world, and he was in a place that we could do them all. Now I have to reign in my expectations and get back in the mindset of “duty days” and “deployments.” I cried for what seemed like forever, and my hubs must have felt my heart breaking because he texted asking if I needed him to come home, and I said, “Yes, please.”

He was home not even half an hour later for me to fall into his arms. I gathered myself, and the rest of the day went as normally as it could. We picked up the kids from daycare, played outside in the front yard before dinner, did baths, brushed teeth and read books before we settled onto the couch to watch our favorite TV show together. That was the beginning of the countdown to my new normal, or maybe normal, as it was amazing to have such a great shore duty. Now it’s back to the regular Navy.

I will say we’re making the most of the last few days we have left together as a family of five. If you find yourself having hard days like this, just make the most of the days you have when y’all are together. We know those are the memories that get us through the tough days of this military spouse life.

Kristi on the beach

Military Life on the Outskirts

Written By Kristi Stolzenberg

I knew it was in the works, so it was absolutely not a surprise when my husband copied me on an email about a U.S. Marine Corps separation brief. But, in the back of my mind the last several months (OK, fine, the last several years), retirement was still so far off in the distance that it was abstract — a future Kristi problem. This email sort of nabbed the abstract concept of Marine Corps retirement from the back recesses of my subconscious and plopped it in my lap. When “one day” gets a date on the calendar, things get very real.

“Fake It ‘til You Make It (And I Did)”

As I like to do whenever I am faced with a challenge large or small, I began to overthink. What would this, now eminent, retirement mean for our family now that it was no longer “if,” but “when?” I tried to find a parallel time in my life that could do justice to the change coming into focus in front of us. A change that would require essentially learning a new lifestyle. I found a worthy example in the military spouse retirement counterpart: when I became a military spouse.

As a new spouse, I remember feeling like I was always just outside the group. I had no deployment stories to contribute to the conversation. I’d only PCS’d once, so I couldn’t tell you whether it went well or poorly — it just went. My browser history was primarily comprised of “What is [insert acronym] + Marine Corps.” And as a lifelong introvert who has been described as “independent to a fault,” I was great with sidestepping most offers for help and spouse events (at least until I was adopted by an extrovert who made showing up less anxiety-inducing). I was content watching and learning from the spouses around me, absorbing anything I could and finding incredible, genuine friendships along the way. Full disclosure, I still feel like I’m making it up as I go most days, which may be a contributing factor to the retirement shock.

Connecting the Dots

In those early days, I felt like I was living on the outskirts of military life, trying to blend in and act like I knew what OPSEC and TDY meant. Today, I feel much the same way (though, I am proud to report that I now have those definitions down). I’m once again feeling like an outsider, albeit an outsider with significantly less energy and more salt.

For starters, we no longer live on base, so the twice-daily morning and evening colors reminder of military life aren’t sounding. Our last two tours — the D.C. area and where we are now — have been a stark contrast from living on base the five years prior.  Without commissary and exchange shopping and having the Marine Corps at the center of every conversation and relationship, it’s easy to forget it’s still such a central component of our lives.

The 40 minutes between me and base might not be the root of the problem, but it is part of it. No, the root of the problem is my developing mindset — one finding it harder to relate and engage. Remember “senioritis” — that feeling that plagued us during that last year of high school? I would equate my current mindset to that. I’m still showing up, doing what I need to do, even volunteering for the stuff I chose to do, but when people start talking about their next set of orders or prepping for their upcoming move, they’ve lost me. It’s not because I don’t care. I absolutely do. I’ll listen, empathize, and — if asked — freely share any experience I’ve gained along the way. But I can no longer relate because that’s no longer the reality of someone on the outskirts. To soften the harshness of this, it’s like me talking to my military friends with a few more years left on their clock about the excitement, fears and jarring emails of retirement. They listen, empathize and offer advice, but they can’t yet relate.

Fighting the Senioritis

This outskirts feeling is heavy, in addition to the weight of the life-changing event around the corner. Especially for someone who has prioritized showing up and pitching in because we (Marine families) need each other. It takes added effort and energy to stay engaged, stay positive, and not let the miles between me and the base or another Marine Corps family be an excuse to say no.

If you’re a military spouse at the city center meeting me today, please don’t mistake my wandering mind, fatigue and saltiness for lack of empathy. Know that I was you not that long ago, and you will be me faster than you ever thought possible. Military life looks different here from my spot on the outskirts. Big stressors look smaller as they shift to the rearview. You come to the disheartening realization that the truly big problems are bigger than you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t chip away at them. To quote myself from a blog roughly a decade ago, “The military is like a small town.” We should strive to be good neighbors; that goes for those of us on the outskirts, too.

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Tips for Airline Travel With Young Kids

Written By Sydney Smith

If you stay a military spouse for long enough, you’ll probably find yourself needing to fly on an airplane somewhere with your children by yourself, whether that be due to a cross-country PCS or visiting family while your spouse is gone. Flying with young children can be a daunting adventure that you’ll most likely want to prepare for to the best of your ability. Here are some creative things I’ve learned over the last six years of flying with my children, I hope others may find at least one of these ideas helpful, too!

  • Schedule out your time with activities and snacks. Break your flying time into chunks, either by hour or half-hour intervals. Plan at least one different snack, activity and book for each interval. Maybe the first hour is a granola bar and audiobook players; the second hour is snacks and coloring books; the third hour is cookies and tablets; and the fourth hour is gummies and tablets. Even if those things don’t take up the full hour, they’ll at least break up the trip a bit for everyone. It’s also helpful to buy some new toys and books your kids have never seen — as this will keep them entertained for longer.
  • Bring one large bag, rather than single carry-ons for each child. I find it much easier to bring one large bag that’s strategically organized, rather than allowing each child to bring their own. I’m a mother who’s usually all for responsibility and requiring my children to keep accountability for their things — but an airplane is not the place to do so. I like to be in control of all the items on the plane, and when each of those things comes out of the bag. I have an amazing bag my husband got me for Mother’s Day that has four different zipper sections that can hold several items each. The bag also has a laptop sleeve I use for books (coloring, sticker, reading books), three different strap options for carrying, a water bottle holder and some smaller zipper pouches for things like headphones or gum. My best advice is to pick your bag very strategically. Organize it as best you can, and continue organizing it on your plane ride, as things get mixed around. You’ll want easy access to everything and to know where each item is.
  • Break your own rules, just this once. Throw the screen time and sugar limits out the door. Your goal is survival and silence, at whatever cost. You will not rot your child’s teeth or turn his or her brain to mush with one five-hour flight of endless movies and candy.
  • Take special walks with each child. Give each of your children a “special walk” where you show them all the things on the airplane. Take them to the bathroom and show them all the funny things, like the airplane toilet and sink. Introduce them to the flight attendants sitting in the back. Let them walk down the aisle and wave hello to everyone. You will usually find that people are extra friendly to you when you have young children.
  • Play “the gummy bear game.” To kill time during difficult moments, I like to make up fun games to play with the kids. One of our favorite games to play when our airplane starts descending is called “the gummy bear game.” I get out a bag of gummy bears and I place one gummy bear hidden in the palm of my hand. Each child gets a turn guessing what color it is. They have unlimited guesses. Once they get it right, they get to eat the gummy bear. This game is a win-win because it’s simple, the kids absolutely love it, the gummy bears get eaten slowly, and the chewing helps pop your kids’ ears on the way down.
  • Set low expectations. Expect tantrums and blowouts, meltdowns and zero sleeping. Expect spilled juice, incessant whining and lots of turbulence. If anything goes better than this, you’ll be pleasantly surprised! And if your expectations are true, at least you won’t be disappointed. By setting low expectations, you set yourself up for success.

I hope some of these tried-and-true tips work for some of you other solo-flying parents out there. It can be scary to fly with your kids for the first time, but once you do it you’ll be so proud of yourself, and you’ll know how to do it even better the next time.

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