I have had this post in the back of my mind since starting this blog, but I just now feel ready to share this with you.
When we found out in October of last year that J would be coming out here in January/February for job-related training, we were only dating. We were serious, hell we were living together, but the subject of marriage had never been broached (although we had both been secretly thinking about it). One night we were talking about the ramifications of his year-long stint in California and what that meant for our lives and our relationship, and he said something along the lines of, "I can't help but think that this would be a lot easier if we were married."
I breathed a mental sigh of relief, as I had been thinking the same thing, but did not want to be the first one to bring it up. Once we agreed that was our best plan, he called my father to ask for my hand (d'aww), proposed in November, then we were married in December.
We also agreed that it would be better if I didn't work while we were out here: it meant that I could take all of the household duties onto my plate so that he didn't have extra stressors on top of his already-stressful training, it would actually be cheaper than putting E in a daycare, and a myriad of other reasons.
Coming to California with him came with a lot of pros:
- we got married (duh), let alone were able to stay together
- living somewhere besides the Midwest for a little while was something that's been on my bucket list ever since deciding to attend an in-state college, and Monterey is a great place to do that
- E went from being two time zones away from her dad to being three and a half hours away from him
- I get to be a stay-at-home mom again
It also came with one pretty big con: it meant moving half a country away from all of our family and friends.
J has a few friends that are also out here for the same reason he is. Two of which I already knew, one of which I became friends with since we moved out here-- none of which are married or have children. I have no mom friends. I have no one (of the adult variety) to talk to during the day unless you count the checkout people on the days I go to the store.
Which, for an extrovert, is slightly maddening. I'm lonely, I'll admit it. Even though E and I have done our very best to take advantage of this opportunity (and we are), I'm still lonely. I have tried to make mom friends with the other women living in the military community, but military wives are very clique-y (that's not to say I'm judging them for it, there are some restrictions on who can hang out with whom in the military community). I'm pretty much limited to the wives of those that are in the same career field and pay grade as my husband, and I haven't met one yet.
So, I started a blog. I've been wanting to start one since we got out here, as a sort of online scrapbook of our time out here. But I didn't think I had the time to devote to it until I realized how much time I spent online already doing basically nothing.
And so FWMGS was born. I told myself at first that it was just a hobby, something to do after E and J had already gone to bed that wasn't just mindless web surfing and watching reruns of Chopped and What Not To Wear.
I have slowly come to realize, however, that my true intention (subconscious at the time) was a way for me to redefine my identity, as Kim, and not as one or all of the hats I wear. To renew my excitement in the things I am interested in, and to push myself to explore them further, to better myself, so that I can be better for those around me.
|these two <3|
I also realized that it was a way to find a community. To write as military wife and stay-at-home mom who likes to cook and put together outfits, and hope to find other like-minded individuals. To build online relationships in place of wasting my time making temporary friends out here, just until they leave and move on to the next base, or we do. This little blog of mine is (fingers crossed) my ticket off of Lonely Island, and I feel like I'm already off to a pretty good start.
So if you like what you see here: please, won't you be my neighbor?