Closet and dishes

Spring Cleaning Hits Different in the 20-Year House

I did the unthinkable last weekend: I pulled every item out of our linen closet. I kept only what had a purpose and place in this house — where we currently live — without a care for the next house.

I’m almost embarrassed to tell you how much stuff we didn’t need, but kept despite purging before every move, “just in case” we needed it at a future residence. Because this is a safe space, and you get the struggle, I will share that I got rid of more than HALF the stuff in that closet.

I found pillowcases and sheets that no longer fit anything we own, curtain panels from my daughter’s “little kid” room that made her eyes roll so hard, I swear, it was audible. I found little 2-by-3-foot entry rugs that haven’t matched our home décor since 2010.

I discovered a large number of sleeping bags for people who do not camp. And, of course, the staple of every military home: several air mattresses to rival the sleeping bags. I also found a Christmas tree skirt that made me regret not doing this in the fall, but because I purchased a new one before Christmas 2023, that one went in the give-away pile too.

We are no strangers to a hefty purge every two to three years, but this time it was different. This time we’re almost — I say almost because I’m not brand new — guaranteed not to move again on military orders. Retirement is in the headlights and, if we get our way, we are staying put until our children graduate from high school.

While it seemed logical to carry around the just-in-case rugs and patched air mattresses (which, honestly, still leak) for the next move, it suddenly seems absurd to hang on to things I know for sure will not see the light of day for a decade.

As we slowly adjust to this concept of not moving again shortly, I’ve found that I have this uncontrollable urge to settle for the first time in a long time — to really unpack boxes and critically organize their contents, not just pull out the items and shove them in a closet to deal with later.

Now, it is later. I’m no longer interested in keeping something just for the sake of having it. I think — I say think because I’m not brand new — I have a pretty good idea of what our next 10 years will look like. That makes it so much easier to look at something we own and decide if it has a place in our present or our future.

My wrath has not been contained to the upstairs linen closet. I’ve been making my way around the house and downsizing in every room:

  • Linens: Bedding, curtains, shower curtains, rugs, bathmats, towels and fabric scraps from my sewing era — gone.
  • Clothing: If it no longer fits (in size, style or lifestyle) or is worn out, it’s out of here. This applies to all closets and dressers in the house. When the kids were younger, I was more inclined to save a sentimental outfit or two from the toss pile, but as they age, I have less and less attachment to the weird things they choose to wear. (Things that admittedly look a lot like what I wore in middle school — a reminder that styles will come around again if you ever feel the need to repurchase something.)
  • Dishes and Kitchen Items: Why do we still have four place settings in wedding china that we never used or felt the need to buy more of? I checked. It’s not even made anymore, and it drips of early 2000s style, which begs the question: What was I thinking? That freed up a shelf. I tossed out random spoons and dishes we acquired at potlucks, duplicate items and the kids’ plastic dishes. (Teens and tweens, I suspect, can handle real dishes). I also tossed the coffee cups that came with our dishes. I am comfortable enough in my skin to know that they will never hold the amount of coffee I require to be a functioning adult, and we had 12 of those little things.
  • Toys: This one has been the toughest. I’ve raised packrats. Despite having a teen and a tween, there are more stuffies than humans in this house. As much as I don’t want to rush them out of childhood, I know we just don’t need tons of blocks, trains, Legos, games, puzzles, water guns and balls. (Why did we have six soccer balls?) The kids are mostly busy with school and extracurriculars, and when they do have free time, it’s dedicated to reading or screen time. The toys were taking up space and collecting dust, so we drastically thinned the herd.
  • Seasonal décor: If an item doesn’t find a place during the first year, it’s out of here unless there is a sentimental reason to keep it.
  • Furniture: This category won’t happen overnight, but we are getting rid of pieces that don’t fit the floorplan we’re in. When necessary, we’re upgrading the furniture that’s weathered a few moves. We’re purchasing solid pieces that will complete each room in our house. I’m okay with this taking longer than it typically would because we aren’t just grabbing some cheap, build-it-yourself furniture to fit a need for a couple of years. We want things that will last; we don’t want to worry about a voyage across the Pacific doing its worst to more expensive furniture.

Unexpectedly, this purge is helping me settle into not only our home, but into the idea that it will be home for a while. I was nervous — still am, honestly — about what I’ll do with myself when I don’t have to move every three years. This exercise in organizing has helped reality sink in. However long we stay in this house, I know it will be full of the people I love, the things that spark joy and have a purpose, and, for once, that’s all I have to worry about.

Candle and flower

Life with a Career

The military spouse community is a melting pot of diversity. We are all unique; we have different goals and dreams. We all figure out who we are inside this community. We represent so many different versions of what family life looks like. That’s a beautiful thing.

I have now experienced two very different lifestyles within my family dynamic. It is certainly an experience worth reflecting on. My job over the last decade was child rearing and household management.

I recently procured my first full-time career. As a spouse who thought about having a career for a decade, I want to talk about what I’ve learned since I got my first job as it pertains to life and my expectations and comparisons over the years.

Firstly, for the decade that I stayed home with my kiddos, I would fantasize about what it would be like to be a ‘career woman.’ It was a fantasy that I had as a child. I knew I was capable of great things, and I wanted to prove that to the world.

As the years went on, that fire to prove it to the world waned. I questioned if I was capable enough to enter the workforce about a decade later than my peers. After my children started school full-time, I knew I needed to pursue a career for myself. I just assumed that once I got the role, I would morph into the career woman I always envisioned myself to be.

Things fell into place for me when I got serious about finding a job outside of the home. I landed my first job, and I’m lucky it aligned with the only world I know, the military community. I was proud of myself, and while I did question how capable I would be of delivering, it quickly became clear that I would have no problem figuring it out. That’s what we do as military spouses: We morph and adapt.

What surprised me is that the fantasy woman I had always envisioned never really showed up. I was the same woman, and I didn’t drastically change because I got a career-orientating job. That surprised me.

My identity as a woman has been mother and spouse for quite some time. That was all I had; that was mine. I attached myself to everyone else in my house except for myself. I believe a big part of that was getting married and pregnant so young. I didn’t have a chance to be someone else, but my career job gave me an identity all to myself.

I truly love this part of being a working spouse and mother. I have my own professional life and I learn so much about myself in it. I also genuinely love having a job. To me, it is fulfilling. However, with a spouse in the military, I know it will be second fiddle.

I am still responsible for the kids most of the time. My spouse is super supportive of me, and he is my true partner in every sense of the word, so we split cooking and cleaning and all the maintenance of the home. But because of his job, he can’t pick up the kids from school and take them to all their activities.

So, my schedule has drastically changed and become incredibly chaotic. This has been a big adjustment for me, but I’ve learned that I love a bit of chaos. I have had to pick the convenience of life over home-cooked meals every night. I’ve had to revisit the expectations of my home and being ‘put together.’

My favorite realization came as a surprise. The biggest thing I’ve taken away from these diverse lifestyles is how much value I added to the family for a decade before working outside of the home. The ability to just be available for whatever pops up in our family and in life is truly such a blessing and adds so much value.

I had known all these years that my spouse was so thankful for what I did as a stay-at-home mom, but the truth was it was hard for me to see it. Now, I look back and see how much of a gift it was for my family.

I feel proud of all I did and accomplished during that time. When I was a stay-at-home mom, my kids would occasionally ask me why I didn’t have a job. At times, they would mention other moms and what kind of jobs they had. They thought it would be super cool to have a mom who worked outside of the home.

Now, however, while they are proud of me, they sometimes make comments about whether I will have to work and have noticed the inconvenience that this lifestyle can bring. I find that interesting. All in all, there are many differences in my life now that I have a different day job. I haven’t changed at all. I see how powerful both lifestyles are, and now I truly appreciate them.

As I reflect on these thoughts, it doesn’t quite surprise me because all the different choices we make paint our lives in different lights. In this community, we are all represented by so many unique lights.

Child holding a leaf

The School Dilemma

I am sitting in a coffee shop as I write this. It’s a drizzly Saturday morning here in North Carolina. I stare out the rain-pattered windows at the moody gray sky. My husband is home with our three babies. I welcome some classical music in my ear pods and sip on a pistachio latte.

I can’t help but imagine what life will be like for our family soon. We will be moving to Washington state, just outside Seattle (the “Rainy City”) in a few months, and a lot of our Saturdays are going to look like this — the weather, I mean.

I know I won’t be able to hide out in coffee shops every rainy day, but I’m excited for all our wet outdoor adventures ahead. What weighs on me most right now as we anticipate this move is not the distance we are going and all that comes with that, but rather the fact that our firstborn will be headed to kindergarten shortly after we arrive.

A cross-country move and our baby starting kindergarten: To be honest, it’s all a bit overwhelming to process as we prepare ourselves for a big year of change and adjustment.

I’m not sure if it makes it more intimidating that we are open-minded to just about everything right now. We are exploring it all: homeschooling, public schools, private schools, Christian schools, nature-based schools. It is hard knowing what the perfect fit will be when we’ve never done this before and have never been there before.

Our son thrives outdoors, but we wonder what options are available to us in such a rainy place. We strive to immerse our children in Christian-rooted activities as much as we are able, but we wonder what faith-based options will be in this area and if they will meet our standards.

How do we get our kids immersed in the world when we also wish to protect them from so much? The school dilemma is real and only becomes exacerbated as a military spouse/family.

In the past, for us, choosing a housing location was easy, based solely on proximity to the post, neighborhood amenities, home size and aesthetics, and, of course, our budget. Now, as our oldest child is school-aged, we must heavily weigh our housing options based on his education.

On top of our worries and wonders, it is hard to know what aspect of our move to establish first: Do we choose where to live, and then figure out the school situation from there? Or do we commit to a school choice, and then choose our living situation based on that? How do we make any decisions at all when we are thousands of miles and three time zones away?

It’s impossible not to feel overwhelmed by it all.

The questions are daunting; the hesitations are rampant. We know we must make these big decisions soon.

I share this all not to be discouraging, but rather to relate to all the parents out there who are experiencing the same thing. As military spouses, we endure more changes and adjustment periods than the average person. Those changes are especially hard when they affect, and even disrupt, our children’s lives.

I am always guilty of trying to figure it all out before we get there. My mind seems to experience a PCS before my actual body does. I know too well that nothing ever goes quite as planned. I do my best to research everything there is to know about where we are moving and the places surrounding it. I remind myself there is still a lot more to learn about an area once you arrive.

We know all too well that, along with our collection of household goods, we must also bring our open minds to our new duty station. We know what’s best for our children, and we just need to reassure ourselves that something will fall into place once we get there. If something doesn’t quite work out, we can always make the necessary changes to adapt to our family’s needs.

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