Wednesday, December 23, 2009

SNAFU

Let's go back about two weeks.

I get a phone call from my recruiter.

He says, "Are you ready to enlist?"

I blink twice and say, "Could you elaborate?"

"Well, this is what I'd like to happen. We get the process rolling, go down to MEPS and have you sworn in by the first of the new year."

I say, "When would I be shipping out?"

He does some quick math by whispering, "Let's see, Janu.. Febru.. March. You'd be shipping in March."

I remind him of what I told him when I first walked into his office which was that I wanted to wait until summer.

Sounding like I just told him his house was on fire he exclaims, "You're talking about waiting until next year!?"

I wanted to remind him that the new year started in just a few weeks but I held my tongue. I did tell him, however, that I have no problem going to MEPS and being sworn into the DEP, I just want to wait until summer to ship to Recruit Training.

He countered with wanting to meet with me and my husband that Friday to talk about things.

I agreed and we set up the meeting.

Thursday night came and my husband informed me that Friday night (just thirty minutes after we were supposed to be meeting with my recruiter) our presence was required at his company Christmas party. There was speculation as to whether we could do both but we both thought the recruiter might think it strange when I showed up in a cocktail dress and my husband in a suit. I called my recruiter to reschedule.

He gladly accepted the reschedule for the following Monday and that was that.

Monday rolled around and so did a snow storm coupled with myself being quite sick, along with the baby.

My husband was kind enough to call the recruiter for me and the course of their conversation went a little like this:

"Why don't you want your wife to enlist?"

My husband, confused, wasn't quite sure how to respond. He has been nothing but supportive of my decision and wasn't quite sure why the recruiter assumed he was the one holding me back. My husband offered to come in and talk to the recruiter himself but the recruiter wanted to talk to us both so, again, the meeting was rescheduled for the upcoming Friday.

Because my husband was the one who made the appointment, on Thursday I called the recruiter to confirm. He assured me we were still scheduled to meet and despite another downpour of snow on top of slick ice I tentatively drove the thirty minutes to his office where I met my husband and we sloshed out way to the door only to find it locked and all the lights turned off on the inside.

We waited a few minutes and then I called him on his cell.

"Are we still meeting this evening?" I asked.

"Oh. Wow. I'm so sorry. You didn't drive all the way down to the office and then call me did you?"

Again, I checked myself from saying something sharp like, "Well, it is five minutes past the time we are supposed to meet. I'm certainly not sitting on my couch," and substituted it all for a simple, "Yep."

"Oh, Man. I'm so sorry. I feel so bad. I'm over two hours away. Wow.. ummm."

I cut him off and told him not to sweat over it. Since we were in town we would finish up some Christmas shopping and I'd call him Monday or some time the upcoming week to reschedule... again.

My husband was beyond irritated but we did have a good time finishing up some last minute Christmas shopping.

Monday afternoon rolled along and I was in my kitchen making a late lunch snack when my cell phone rang. I recognized the recruiter's phone number immediately but I failed to answer due to the fact that I simply wasn't up to talking to him at the moment. My own irritation at the whole process was bordering on anger.

He left a message, however, and on impulse I decided to check it.

"Hey, I'm just confirming that we are still meeting this afternoon. If you could give me a call that would be great. If not, I hope to see you here."

There was no avoiding it now. I called him back and asked him where he got the idea that we were meeting as I had told him I would call him, "Oh, I thought you said we were meeting on Monday."

"No. I said I would call you."

With a voice that sounded like someone had just shot his dog and then left a scathing note explaining why he said, "It's just as well."

Being a curious, kind-hearted person I had to inquire why he sounded so dejected.

He began to tell me a tale of woe dating back to first getting assigned to recruiting duty and for a moment I was translated from potential recruit to shoulder-to-cry-on. I won't lie. I felt sorry for the guy and for the next ten minutes we talked about everything from his in-law issues to handguns. I wished him a Merrier Christmas and told him I'd likely talk to him after the holidays and gave him a bit of advice in that he should try to forget about work over the Christmas break and just try to enjoy himself. I felt a bit like a big sister especially since he is a few months my junior.

He even admitted he hadn't written a contract in quite some time so it was clear to me that his oversight as far as our appointments were concerned was not because he was pressed on by other poolees.

Before I even started this process I was advised that I should not join a particular service based on the recruiter. That was darned good advice because if it was based on the recruiter I certainly wouldn't be joining the Marines.

For now I'm going to take my own advice and look past all of the frustration and aggravation and enjoy my Christmas with my family.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Still Pushy

I understand that recruiters have a job to do. I understand it is a
frustrating and often thankless job with long hours and stupid kids. I
also understand that quota must be met. I even understand that it is
their job to push and try to get potential recruits shipped out as
soon as possible.

However, I don't understand the idea behind sounding shocked every
time I tell my recruiter the exact same thing I've been telling him
from day one.

Every time he calls, expecting me to go to MEPS and ship out in a
month for Boot Camp and every time I tell him that I'm waiting until
later in the year he makes it sound like I'm telling him for the first
time while kicking his dog.

He's a good guy. I like him as a person. I think in a civilian sense
we would have been friends. I just don't think that recruiting was his
life's calling.

Tomorrow my husband and I are going to meet with him and his boss to
discuss what reservations we have about my enlisting now versus later.

Child care, MOS selection, drilling station selection are at the top
of my list at the moment. Here's hoping we can get some solid answers.

Sent from my iPhone

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Back Up Plan

I was reading an article the other day about the difference between men and women. The article claimed that while women like to boast about our equality or even superiority to men we still hold men to a higher standard and a vast majority of us depend on men for our livelihood. Women may get the same education, even get a degree but in the end, a vast majority of them (us) still rely on the "man of the house" to put the food on the table.

Now, while the article was being rather harsh on women for emasculating men and failing to live up to their own judgments, I am going to agree with the article to a certain extent.

Whether we like it or not, whether we want to admit it or not, as society stands, the man is still the principle breadwinner for families. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Let me repeat: There's nothing wrong with that.

If that is the kind of arrangement that works best for your family, then by all means, it is the best arrangement, period.

Let's face it. For young families there really is no better at-home-care-provider than the mother. While she is recuperating from childbirth she is the best source of nutrition and love for her young children. It is a match (pardon the cliche) made in heaven.

In days of old it was not only assumed, but expected, that a young woman would marry, have children, stay home and care for them while her husband worked. Indeed, in Biblical times a woman was so dependent on a husband's care that should her husband die she was immediately passed on to his brother. The idea of being unmarried or going without a man to provide for the family was unheard of. The idea of single-parenthood, absurd. More recently a suddenly single mother was looked after by family or her church.

In the current world, however, single parenthood (motherhood, in particular) is almost an epidemic. It is tragic in it's frequency and the burden of care has passed from family and congregations to the state. Yes, many single parents are able to make fine livings without relying on the state for help, but the numbers are fewer than we'd all like to see.

Also, with our economy the way it is, a single income household with children is almost immediately too much to financially bear.

What's my point?

I have a child, a house, two cats. There are responsibilities that need to be performed and, though talented, I have no job skills that would land me a good paying and stable job should something happen to my husband, our breadwinner.

Yes, we have life insurance and it is enough to cushion the blow of such a loss, but eventually it would run out and I would have to either remarry someone willing to "take care" of me and my son or I would have to get a job myself.

I would prefer having both options.

The idea of marrying because I need someone to take care of me leaves a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. It smacks of insincerity. It feels... dirty.

If I married again I would want it to be for love and because that man would be a good father to my son and because I want to make a new life, not because I need a paycheck.

I have thought about going back to school. In fact, I have wanted to go back to school, but with little money with which to do such and no sure direction in any particular field, I feel lost. There's also the fact that even should I go back to school and get a degree I would still be void a very critical hirable trait: job experience.

Sure, some men actually like sweeping in and being the savior. Some men genuinely adore rescuing the damsel in distress and prefer to be the breadwinner and primary source of income. I, however, do not prefer being needy.

Though my husband has never complained, I have never liked the fact that I couldn't provide for my family financially if required to do so.

It's one thing to choose to be the house-wife, it's another thing entirely to not have a choice in the matter.

Yes, I can get jobs. But the jobs I get are little-over-minimum-wage, couldn't-pay-rent-and-eat-at-the-same-time, glad-you-have-something-else-to-fall-back-on, this-is-not-a-career kind of jobs. It might put some food on the table but in the meantime I'd loose my house, my car, my electricity, my phone, (gasp) my internet.

Which leads us full circle. I want a job skill. I was work experience. I want something to fall back on. I want a resume. I was security in knowing that, should I choose to do so, I could go out and get a career-type job that could support my family.

What better way to get all of that than the military?