I realized pretty quickly that I was not a yoga kind of girl. First of all, I am so hyper that all the meditating made me nervous. Then they would start the moves. Some of the positions do not work on my body. Let’s put it this way, yoga makes me fart—a lot.
When that happened Brad would start laughing, really hard. Did he hear me fart? Was he farting?
Then Cathy would start. Was she farting too?
Who else heard me fart? I was trying so hard not to!
I got little accomplished in yoga because I did all the moves wrong. If I did them right, I farted.
Anyway, I don’t care what kind of exercise you do. Just try to find something that gets you out of the house. Go bicycle riding or swimming.
But don’t get wrapped up thinking you are going to have some hot body when your man gets home. That should not be your goal.
Exercise every day because you need to get out of the house, socialize, and release those endorphins!
Michelle and I walked regularly, but sometimes she couldn’t go because she was watching her kids’ games. So I started walking with another wife from the battalion. She and I were the same age and lived in Del Mar. And her husband was serving with mine in Fallujah. She usually brought her big male mutt along on our walks. Those outings were some of the best times I enjoyed at Del Mar.
By that time I had returned to the career I had in South Carolina before I met Jon. The company hired me back to work its territory in California.
Since this other wife had a corporate job, we both felt the stress. I can’t even begin to tell you how great it was to get out of the house just after sunset and really move fast. We could blow off steam from our work days and vent at the same time!
We were both career women with no kids and husbands at war. It was so comforting to talk to someone who understood the pressure of an intense job and a husband away on a deployment in a war zone. I lived for those late night walks. The dogs loved it, too. Everyone felt better after doing two miles around the neighborhood.
And then one day she stopped calling. I called and left messages, but she wouldn’t return my calls. I was really hurt when I saw her out walking her dog really late at night. I felt like I had been dumped.
I decided I must have done something to upset her. When your friends turn into your spouse, breaking up can get really messy. I was torn up over this for months.
It was not until my husband came home months later that I found out the truth. Apparently, she and her husband had a fight during this time.
So, it wasn’t my fault. She had been unable to handle the issues in her marriage and chose not to confide in me. Not everyone wants to share. Nor is everyone strong. We just cope differently.
It was very hard to lose that friendship. I had thought it meant so much to both of us. We go through our own crap during these deployments. Obviously, not everyone can reach out for help.
There is this old saying, “Fish and company stink after three days.” The rot seems to set in faster during deployments. Be mindful of who you visit or who visits you while your husband is gone.
Don’t invite anyone into your home who will make you uncomfortable. A lot of people will want to visit or will invite you to stay with them. You’re not being rude if you turn them down. It’s difficult to be as moody as you are feeling, while trying to be on your best behavior for your guest or when you are a guest in someone else’s home.
Sometimes those visits can be therapeutic, however. Jon’s sister and cousin came for a few days and we had a blast. We dyed hair, watched movies, and went shopping. This was a good visit. Unfortunately, some of my trips to see close friends and family did not turn out as well.
Just plan wisely. Only you know your limitations. You have to put your needs first.
I did welcome a yearly visit from my mother. Since she had been an Air Force brat growing up on bases all over the world, she was familiar with the military lifestyle. She also knew why I didn’t want to cook or get dressed. She understood why I got upset and cried over the smallest things. She would just hold me while I cried and never asked uncomfortable questions.
I was so grateful for her company. She came in and took care of me in a way only a mother can.
We took the dogs on daily walks, went the beach, planted flowers for Jon’s homecoming, and sewed different projects for the house. She got me through some of the toughest points in those long months.
Many of my girlfriends asked their moms to come and help with the kids.
If your mom is a positive presence in your life, ask her to come and stay with you. You might need that other person to step in and help with the housework and children.
Michelle’s mom was a great help. With her mother in the house, Michelle finally got to relax in a way she could not when any of us were babysitting the boys.
However, if your mom will only upset your emotional balance, tell her to visit at a later date.
Your home is your sanctuary. Keep it that way.
Michelle found this little beach just down from our home outside an Amtrak Unit. There was a loading dock and just enough sand to create a private beach.
I didn’t want to ask how she stumbled upon this beach, but it was a gem. We called it “the Secret Beach.”
It had a slip for putting your boat in the water (a launch site for Amphibious Assault Vehicles), steep rocks on each side, and sand for the dogs and kids to play on.
The secret to the spot was you could only go there when the Marines were not using it for training exercises. If you did, you were in for a treat. Otherwise, you’re greeting a Hummer full of Marines while dressed in a bikini and flip-flops.
Since my husband wasn’t around during the summer months of our stay at the base, my beach days became ladies-only activities.
Often Mary, my Marine Corps mom, her son JJ, and her husband the Colonel would join me and the dogs at the beach. Beenie, Natalie, Autumn, and Michelle would also hang out there as well. The whole gang, including dogs, babies, and kids, would gather for weekend picnics at the Secret Beach.
One weekend JJ brought his jet ski down to the beach and started offering free rides. I joined him for one and we saw boats, dolphins, and sea lions sunning themselves on the buoys. It was great fun.
Then I made Beenie go for a ride. She was nervous about leaving Grace, who was just three months old, but agreed after Mary, Michelle, and I assured her the baby would be safe.
Before JJ left, I warned him to be careful since he had a new mom riding with him. I watched Beenie as she got on the back of the jet ski with this buff sixteen-year-old.
JJ said they would only be gone for half an hour, so when they weren’t back in forty minutes I began to get worried. After about an hour I was definitely on edge. Grace would wake up soon and she would be hungry. I was also worried about Beenie. What if something had happened?
Finally, the jet ski came speeding around a bend and pulled up on the beach. I ran to the water’s edge. Beenie was soaking wet. Her lips were purple and she was shivering uncontrollably.
“What happened?” I asked.
I was ready to ring JJ ’s neck, but Beenie just looked at me and started to laugh.
JJ offered a blow-by-blow report of what led up to what we would later refer to as “The Jet Ski Incident.”
At first JJ and Beenie had enjoyed a leisurely ride over the waves. When they approached the buoys where the sea lions were sunning themselves, they stopped to watch them frolic and play.
While they were watching the animals, a large motor boat sped past. The wave it left tipped the jet ski over. The engine had flooded, so JJ and Beenie spent several minutes trying to get it started. Their presence, however, began to upset the snoozing sea lions.
Unable to start the engine, JJ and Beenie started swimming away from the sea lions while dragging the jet ski. For those of you unfamiliar with the Pacific Ocean, it’s not the same warm bath water its sister, the Atlantic Ocean, boasts. The Pacific is usually a very chilly 62 degrees. That’s why so many surfers wear wet suits.
Beenie, however, wasn’t wearing a wet suit and she’d been in the chilly waters for nearly thirty minutes. Just as aroused sea lions were closing in, JJ got the jet ski running.
The next challenge was getting a soaking wet Beenie on the jet ski. If you haven’t seen someone trying to mount a jet ski after spending time in cold water, it’s quite a sight. It can take several tries to get up on the seat. Beenie and JJ slipped, turned, and twisted in an effort to get back on, usually tipping the machine over again. And it’s not any easier when you have ten sea lions hot on your trail!
After several failed attempts, JJ and Beenie finally made it back on at the same time and headed toward the beach.
Beenie later confessed that JJ had to help her on by pushing her ass up in the air as she slung her leg over the jet ski.
How humiliating for poor ole Beenie!
The Secret Beach became an exciting outing for the dogs.
During the week, Michelle and I would fill the cars up with kids and dogs and head down to the sand and salt water.
Maggie, Molly, CoCo, and Monsieur loved to dig in the sand, bite at waves, and chase birds.
My little poodle Monsieur would get so excited about his feathered friends that he would go crazy chasing them. Imagine this seven-pound body converting into a bird dog. He would actually “point” at his hoped-for prey! He particularly liked chasing seagulls. He would give a good chase, but it ended whenever they headed out to sea.
On one particular day, I let him run off leash since there was no one else on the beach. He set his sights on a particular seagull and went after it full force. When the seagull veered out to sea, Monsieur didn’t stop, but instead dove in it and started swimming.
I panicked. I had never seen my dog swim, so I assumed he didn’t know how. Boy was I wrong. Here was this tiny dog fiercely paddling out after a bird into the Pacific Ocean.
“Monsieur! Monsieur!” I yelled as loud as I could.
Suddenly, he turned his head to look in my direction. At the sound of my voice he seemed to realize, “Hey, I don’t know how to swim!”
He started to sink.
We all started to scream.
A Marine who was in the building behind the beach heard us screaming and ran up to see what was wrong. When he realized what was going on, he pulled off his boots so he could perform a “Poodle Rescue.”
Without thinking twice he dove into the ocean and swam out to my drowning pooch. He took a look around where the bird-dog wannabe had disappeared and ducked under water. When he resurfaced, he had my tiny “Monsieur” in his hands. Boy did we cheer for our hero!
Safely back on shore, Monsieur continued to bark and growl at the seagull, which had returned to taunt him. After that incident I kept both poodles on a lead anchored in the ground to prevent them from chasing any more birds.
Who knew that the gulls would start chasing after my dogs!? I guess word had spread through the bird community that my dogs were grounded.
I let a young boy walk Monsieur along the water’s edge. I was reading a novel Michelle had given me when I heard screams and looked up. The boy was on one side of the beach, and Monsieur was on the other. A pelican was beginning his dive bomb attack, and Monsieur was the target!
By the time I stood up, adjusted my bikini, and started to run to the water’s edge, the pelican had swooped down and was trying to get a firm hold on Monsieur with his beak.
I started screaming and chasing the pelican, throwing my book and flip flops at it in an effort to get him to drop my dog. Thank God he finally did. After that, I seriously contemplated putting little weights on my dog’s feet.
One day Natalie and I headed down to Del Mar beach because the Secret Beach was covered with AV’s and Hummers.
It was the weekend, and we were not looking forward to sharing it with a crowd. Since the lifeguards at the beach are Marines, helicopters often fly low over the beach to check out the girls in their bikinis.
Whenever I went with Beenie I would sometimes pull a boob out of my bikini top and wait to see how long it took for the helicopters to start buzzing overhead.
This particular day, however, I did not feel like playing peek-a-boo with my “girls.” Natalie and I were determined to get a suntan on our shoulders before the big reunion at the end of the week.
Deployment was finally coming to an end and the ship was leaving Hawaii and heading home! Naturally, we wanted to look “sunkissed” for our men.
All we wanted was a few quiet, relaxing hours at the beach to clear our minds. So we went to a secluded part at least 500 feet from the crowd.
We got settled and were reading when some rowdy eighteen-year-old Marines decided to set up about ten feet directly in front of us.
We knew we were in for trouble because all they had with them was a cooler full of beer. They immediately started cursing loudly and bragging about their Mitsubishi Eclipse. A few of them started talking about the hot Oceanside ladies that were expecting a call from the boys tonight.
Natalie and I started to laugh. The youngsters misinterpreted our giggles as flirting. One, who claimed he was down to his last payment on his “rent-to-own-rims,” decided to respond to our “mating cry.”
He walked over, definitely determined to find love. Natalie and I were lying on our stomachs on chairs so we could see his feet shuffling up. I think in his drunkenness he even kicked sand in Natalie’s face.
“Want a beer?”
“No thanks,” we both replied, turning our attention back to our books.
He reconsidered his game plan and tried a different plan of attack.
“Are you all here with anybody?” was followed by a huge hiccup, which almost knocked him back in the sand.
This Marine was checking out our availability. Young women on base are only allowed to be unattended if they are: (A) in the service or (B) a dependent wife or daughter.