Decisions

While at our last poolee function I was sitting on the ground next to another poolee waiting to be dragged and fireman carried and he asked me what was wrong with my knees.

"I've been watching you limp around all day. What's wrong?" he asked.

I gave him the whole song and dance about the trauma and the bleeding and the swelling and what my doctor said and after I was done he looked at me with dropped jaw amazement and said, "Why ON EARTH haven't you asked for a separation from the DEP yet? Let me tell you, if I had a legitimate reason not to go through with this I would run and never look back. What are you waiting for?"

I shrugged and said, "Because I still really want to do this."

"You are insane. You hear me? INSANE!" he said.

The fact of the matter is, I'm stalling. I'm waiting for a miracle I'm doubting will ever come. I'm expecting to one day wake up and find my knees are magically all better and I can run for mile after mile without pain.

To be honest, I even dream about it. I dream about running. I dream about doing my best and finding it to be more than adequate (not to mention, pain and trauma free).

Then I wake up.

Just today I picked up my son and started walking out to the car and had severe and sharp pain in my right leg to the point I had to pass him off to my husband in fear I would fall with him.

My husband said, "Yeah, there is no way you are joining the Marine Corps."

To which I responded, "Too late. I've already joined."

He gave me that annoyed look we all know so well and said, "You know what I mean."

I sighed and changed the subject.

So many people including doctors and friends, family and veterans and Marine Corps friends are telling me to stop now. To get out. To just give it up and accept the reality that this is something I shouldn't much less couldn't physically do; the reality that my dream is dead; the reality that I am not physically capable of doing what I want so badly.

My mother asked me if I'd requested my separation from the DEP yet and I said I had not.

"You need to," she said.

Do I? Really?

Maybe.

Yes.

But I don't want to.

Every time I see a picture of a Marine I get a stirring in my heart that tells me to go.

Yesterday I went downstairs to do some laundry and saw my husband's cammie cover next to a picture of him while he was in Iraq, holding his rifle, covered in sand and looking ready to kick some serious butt. I stared at that cover and imagined my own sitting next to it. I imagined standing on those yellow footprints and the pride I would feel at earning my Eagle, Globe and Anchor.

If it were a matter of heart and just wanting it badly enough I know I would go and I know I would succeed.

In the end it's a matter of what I am physically able to do.

If I were single and childless I would say, "Screw it," and do it anyway, consequences be darned. I know I have enough in me to push through the pain and do it despite the inflammation and bruising and pain and long-term damage. I think I would beat my knees to death and not even blink or think twice.

Tomorrow I have some handgun training. Tuesday I'm supposed to check in with my PT recruiter again. It might be time to say goodbye to the Marine Corps.

Is It Worth It?

Remember when I said I was going to go forward with more confidence in myself and my decision?

Yeah, I lied.

But it was unintentional so it's okay.

If it makes you feel any better I am trying to do what I said it was I was going to do. That is, I'm really trying to have confidence in myself and my decision. BUT.. every now and then I get this overwhelming sense of, "WHAT, IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, AM I DOING?!"

I got a really strong wash of this last night when putting my son down to bed. He has learned the joy of hugs and kisses and sometimes he decides he would like to kiss me or his Daddy and hug us for fifteen minutes straight before he's really ready to go to bed.

This doesn't bother me, of course. I adore it. It is precious and endearing and something I wish he would never stop doing.

And it hits me.

I won't be able to get a kiss from him for months. Or a hug. Or a laugh. Or a smile. Or a snuggle. Or a giggle. I won't even get a dirty diaper, which may sound like a good thing now but after three months of going without I would probably happily change a hundred dirty diapers a day just to be near my boy.

So, is leaving my son and my home and my husband and everything I love to become a US Marine worth it?

Boy I wish I had that answer.

I can hear the nay-sayers now who would say something like, "If you don't know for 100% sure then you have no place in the Marine Corps." Ooh-Rah. Chest-thump. Hub-bub.

Let me just say that a mother who runs off to do anything from learning how to sew or to save the world from nuclear war and doesn't ask herself if it's worth it or not is not any kind of mother I would put up for a woman-of-the-year award. This is a decision that should give you sleepless nights and make you wonder if it's right or not. It's a big decision.

And I guess I won't know the answer to my own question until it's all over.

After I put my son down to sleep last night I came downstairs and sat on the couch considering this very carefully.

As I did I was Googling some information on the Marine Corps and came across a blog I had written many years ago when my husband was still in the service himself.

My mother had asked me if it was worth it to marry a man a who was going to be gone for long periods of time and may even die for his country. I has written this in reply:

"Yes, it’s worth it. And yes, I am ready. I look at my husband now, the prospect of him going back to war looms over our heads, not with a heavy weight but with a sort of anticipation. I don’t look at it as a dreaded thing, but as a necessary thing. This is what he does. He’s a Marine. It’s in his job description. For me, it is my job to wait, to love, to anticipate, to cherish, to fill each one of our days with joy, love and kindness so that if we should have to say goodbye to one another I have no regrets. Should he be faced with something horrible, he can look back on his days with me and find them all to be splendid days. That he can know that I love him and am proud of him; that I understand that this could happen, and I had said all I needed to say, done all I needed to do, loved him all he needed to be loved to feel fulfilled. I look at him every morning, and I know, it’s worth it."

I was so certain then and I had not been wrong. Now the tables are turned and I'm forced to look for that same certainty. Is it worth it? Is leaving, serving, worth it? When, how do I know?

Moms At War

Thank God for Facebook. Mainly because if you are a "fan" of the right things you get useful articles, videos and links of interest delivered right to your "wall."

I am a fan of Parris Island, MCRD. Aside from pictures from recruit training and digital copies of "The Boot" I also get links to articles wherein Parris Island or someone on Parris Island has been featured.

Yesterday I was alerted to an article called, "Moms at War Part 1" wherein a female First Sergeant of Drill Instructors with a sixteen year-old daughter and a five-month-old son was interviewed.

The second part of the article series was discussing fathers who stay home while mothers are deployed and the last part was an interview with some Army officers and what their thoughts are on mothers who serve.

There was one more article talking about what can be learned from Mothers who serve and that was also a very good article.

I felt they were all very timely considering the fact that I am a mother who has joined the Armed Services. Though I have been sure of my decision on most accounts there have been a number of doubts as I think about my future in the Marine Corps.

Let's be honest here. Deciding to join the Marine Corps when you are single is a big enough decision. Deciding to do it with a husband is even harder. Deciding to do it with a husband and a child... well, you can see why my most common response is, "You're crazy!"

And, yes. Sometimes I do feel crazy. After all, there's only so many times that you can hear how insane you are before you start wondering if there is any validity to the accusations.

Notwithstanding, here I am, going forward until there's a clear reason not to.

In the last article I read about lessons of motherhood from moms that service it said, "After speaking with two women who found a balance between life at home and a life at war, I’ve learned that having a child change my life forever, but I’ll still have to live my life. Working and following my dreams will set an amazing example for my daughter."

I have to live my life. I have to do what I have to do and this is something I feel I have to do. Am I deceiving myself? I don't know and no one else knows either.

I have attempted to be wise about this decision. I have gotten counsel and I have sought the opinions of those I trust and who I know have my best interests at heart. I did not seek out the people who I knew would agree with me and I didn't stop short after a simple, "yes" from one or two key sources. This has been one of the biggest decisions of my life and I have gotten the most conflicting advice.

On one hand I have people telling me to go for it. On the other hand I have people telling me not to. A lot of people tell me that I'm crazy and so many more tell me they are proud of me and my decision.

I told my mother that this is one of those times when you want to ask God to stop with all of the subtle guidance stuff and just bring down that flashing neon sign that says, "YES" or "NO."

The bottom line is that I will not get that heavenly sign. I will get no definitive answer from elsewhere giving me the exact "yes" or "no" that I am looking for.

Ultimately I can only trust myself. I can only do what's right for me and my family. And sometimes, when you aren't getting a clear and screaming "no" it means you're getting a "yes."

Moms at War Part 1

Moms at War Part 2

Moms at War Part 3

Lessons from Moms at War

Perfect Timing, Lucky Dog

Finally, after incorrect paperwork, unsigned documents, chasing down a speeding ticket from 2004 and a few last minute meetings, my package has been approved and I'm scheduled to swear in on the 3rd of May, just fourteen days from today.

My recruiter assured me I was rather lucky as the cut-off to enlist is May 10th. Not understanding what he meant by this he said that the Marine Corps is no longer taking enlistments after the 10th of May for this year.

I thought that surely he was joking.

Then, upon surfing the internet, I came across a question by a girl who said that her recruiter had told her she was no longer eligible to enlist as she had missed the cut off for this year and would have to wait until the next fiscal year to enlist.

Suddenly the words of my recruiter did not sound so much like jest.

Still later I heard reports that the Navy is no longer granting any kind of weight waivers, the Air Force is closing recruiting stations all over the US and the Army is also starting to deny even the most basic of waivers.

Despite ridiculously low ASVAB score standards in the 30s and 40s for all branches of service have stopped processing potential recruits who score lower than 50 on the practice ASVAB test.

Gone are the days of, "Well, you can always join the military."

All branches, being flooded by desperate peoples looking for security and a pay check and hand-tied by budget cuts and a bad economy have started turning people down and away.

And here I am, an underweight, financially secure, mother and wife, just slipping beneath the red tape for no better reason than to fulfill a girl-hood dream.

I'm beginning to feel very grateful and lucky. I could have easily missed the deadline if only delayed for seven more days. I could have easily been denied my weight waiver or not found the payment info for the 2004 speeding ticket.

So many things could have delayed me just a few more days and almost assuredly destroyed my chances of enlisting at all.

My timing couldn't have been more perfect nor my luck better.

More Confidence

The other day, while my son was napping, I took the opportunity to go through a good number of my old Facebook status updates. Some of them were funny, some were interesting and some were thought provoking.

There was a status update from way back in the late summer of last year that read, "If I could do it all again I'd do it all the same but with more confidence."

What I was trying to portray was that despite everything I have gone through in my life it all turned out all right and I didn't have to worry so much about how it all would turn out in the end. Everything, good or bad, got me to a place where I am strong, secure, happy and blessed. I wouldn't change a thing in my past except for all of the worry that it would all turn out okay.

It ended up being a pretty large slap in the face because here I am worrying about the future again. The bottom line is that I know I have what it takes to have a successful life. I have faith, determination, strength, wisdom, knowledge, support. There's no reason I should fear my future.

So I made a decision. I'm going to go forward with more confidence in my decision, in myself and in my future.

Motivation

The word I have a serious love-hate relationship with: motivation.

In and around the Marine Corps this word is spoken like the word "stroke" would be used in a swimming class or the word "prescription" in the medical field. The Marine Corps has even shorted it to fit amongst the millions of other words known as slang or Marine Jargon. This word is Moto. One is Moto if they seem extra motivated or motivating.

To be Moto is to be respected. When I finished reading My Men Are My Heros--the Brad Kasal story--to my husband over the course of several weeks his final words on the subject were, "That is moto." Amongst the comments on the Marine Corps' Birthday video were several references to the video as being "moto as hell" or simply, "MOTO!"

Moto can be a person, an act, a video, a message, a word, anything that serves as a boost in morale, feelings of pride in being a Marine, or serves to motivate Marines to get the job done. One of the greatest compliments I had ever received is when I was called a moto wife.

I was reading a blog today written by a young man who is currently in Boot Camp. He writes letters to his father and his father types them out and uploads them onto the blog. It's the closest thing any recruit will come to blogging in Recruit Training. He's about half way through and I'm impressed with how motivated he has remained. Sure there are whole weeks of time where there is on update as I am sure he's not able to get out a letter or even have time to sit and write but every letter talks about wanting to get back to his platoon if he's sick or wanting to try again if he failed. He wants to be a leader. He wants to be first. Though I am not yet a Marine and cannot comment as to his moto-ness, as a civilian I can certainly say that he is motivated.

Which made me self examine.

When the time comes for me to get on the bus and stand on the yellow footprints, what will be my motivation? Will it be achieving a dream? Will that be enough? Will it be the title, Marine? Will that be enough? Will it be fear of failure that pushes me on? What is my motivation?

When I talk to those who have been there and done that I often here a variation of the same thing, "Stay motivated and you'll be fine," or "Don't loose your motivation," "Be motivated."

What is my motivation?

Every morning I get up and I think about going to Boot Camp. Every time I look at my son I think about going to Boot Camp. Every time I eat I think about Boot Camp. Almost every moment of every day I am thinking about the Marine Corps, going to Boot Camp and, most often, I think about how much I'm going to miss back home.

If I'm going to get through this I need to find my motivation. I need to stop obsessing about what I'm leaving behind and start thinking about what I'm moving toward. If I keep looking back my time in Boot Camp is going to be miserable.

The situation is not dissimilar to while I was giving birth. I was in so much pain and worried and tired. I'd been pushing for an hour and felt like I was getting no where. I had resulting to screaming, "I can't do this!"

The nurse, a sweet Marine wife, said, "Tough, 'cause your doing it." Those five little words proved to be my motivation.

It was then I had the epiphany that it did no good for me to sit there screaming about something I could do nothing about. There was no going back. There was no alternative. There was no point in wishing it could be over. The only option was to get it over with myself.

I shifted my thinking and in another grueling and painful hour he was born.

In a way, I'm looking for that epiphany. That mental shift in my head that sets me firm and tells me to stop looking back and wondering if I've done, am doing or will be doing the right thing, to accept what decisions I've made and march ahead proudly and confidently, no matter how much it may hurt or how long the process may be, until I'm holding my reward on the other side.

What is my motivation? What will I find moto?

Perhaps I'll have to carry those five little words with me and when I'm standing, shaken and doubting at the precipice of uncertainty I can hear her stern but assured affirmation of, "Tough, 'cause you're doing it."

No point in worrying. No point in wondering. No point in doubting.

"I can't do this," a part of me says.

Tough! 'Cause I'm doing it.

Put to the Test

I'm going to be turning twenty-five years old in just six days. I'm young, yes, but I'm not that young. I have experienced many things, but there is much more I haven't done. I'm content but I want more. I'm satisfied but eager. I've done so much, but I have so much more to do.

I'm also nervous and afraid and anxious.

I expressed to my husband that I wasn't sure why I was so apprehensive. It's certainly not as though I've never made life-changing decisions before. I chose to get married, to have a child, to buy a house. Those decisions are far more life altering than joining the military and I felt no great fear or nervousness in those decisions.

My husband was quick to point out that this is the first time in my life I will be stepping out entirely on my own. A marriage is a partnership of two people and if it fails it is usually as a result of both parties failing. Similarly, raising a child is a joint task and something inside of me is comforted by the fact that I will never be held 100% responsible should those things fall apart.

I have never been forced to make a life-changing decision or undertake a life-changing course of action entirely on my own. I've never bought a car. I've never had my own apartment or lived on my own. I've never been fully responsible for all of my own bills or even a cell phone. I've had plenty of jobs that have greatly contributed to bills and the ease of our lives but I've never been solely responsible for my own or anyone else's welfare.

I went directly from my parents' home to a private college and from there back to my parents' home then straight to a marital union with a stable and wonderful man who has provided for all of my needs. While there were many time my husband was not there to support me in some things his paychecks, voice, emails or presence has always been there combined with the loving support of friends and family to see me through any and every trial.

I understand about responsibility. I also understand about confidence and decisiveness. I understand the concept of self-reliance but they are traits I have never had to develop within myself.

For the quarter of a century that I have been alive I have never been completely, 100%, self-reliant.

That makes me feel.... ashamed, perhaps even a bit cheap and needy. If there's anything I detest it's feeling needy.

When I step off that bus at Parris Island and I stand on those yellow footprints it will be me and me alone doing it. My husband will not be there. My family will not be there. There will be no phone call for encouragement or to ask what to do next. I will not be awarded the luxury of waiting for someone else to make the tough decision or of passing off blame or responsibility to someone else. If I fail it will be because I failed. If I succeed it will be because I succeeded.

This both excites and terrifies me.

This is my moment to be tried and tested. This is my time to stand on my own and prove to no one but myself that I have the courage and the strength to be an individual in every sense of the word. And if I falter, this is my moment to find new reserves within myself, not my friends, my family or my husband, but myself alone. This is my time to at least try.

If I can do this I can do anything.

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?

Boot Camp Speculations

I've been spending hours (if not days) reading about Marine Corps Recruit Training. I've been reading lists of things for recruits to take, lists of things for recruits not to take. I've been reading testimonials of people who believed it was not as bad as it had been made out to be and testimonials of those who've declared it to be multiple times harder than it was made out to be.

I've watched videos that have made me laugh, cringe, shrug and laugh some more. I've asked for advice from Marines and even have a former female Drill Instructor in my address book who has been an invaluable source of information. I've read thousands of pages of advice on how to "survive" Boot Camp and frankly speaking, I'm tired of it.

I'm beginning to see what I have known all along. Boot Camp will be like childbirth. No matter how much you read about it, talk about, listen to stories about it, take classes to prepare for it, in the end, you'll never know exactly what it's like and what you are in for until you are doing it yourself.

As a mother, I know that like each delivery is unique, I can speculate that each recruit's experiences and challenges will be unique to them. One person may find the swimming portion to be a breeze while someone else nearly drowns. Another recruit may score Expert on the rifle range the first day while another UNQs (UN-Qualified) and needs more instruction.

There have been so many questions: What do I bring? What did you forget that you wish you'd have brought? Should I cut my hair or is it better to have long hair? What was the hardest part? What was the easiest part? What kind of mind games do the Drill Instructor's play? Can I bring my dog? (Okay, I haven't really heard that one, but close enough.)

I believe what it boils down to is the essentials of survival. Those essentials can be buried under too much emphasis being placed on the trivial tid bids of comfort or preference. I imagine that once you are there, staring at a seemingly insane woman (or in the male's case, man) who has the uncanny ability to intimidate grass, whether or not you remember to bring an extra sports bra will be the least of your worries.

So, what are the essentials of Marine Corps Recruit Training?

How the heck should I know!? I haven't been there yet. But I have my theories.

Being the survival geek that I am, while going through a self-defense class we talked about the basic needs of a human being (the essentials, if you will).

Ask someone what they need in their life and you will get things like, "My husband," "My children," "My wife," or "My mother." Their ideas of needs have been skewed by their preferences. Certainly, if you are in love with your spouse you would prefer to have your spouse around but you will not drop dead the moment they vanish from your sight.

We are also so often glib about our own survival. We say things like, "If I ever peed my pants in public I would just die." The truth, of course, is that death would not occur. One would be severely embarrassed but he or she would survive. Having a true perspective on "need" vs "want" and grasping an accurate sense of what is ultimately needed for survival can go a long way to show you what you can and cannot endure.

So what is it that we, as humans, need to survive?

We need air. We need water. We need food. We need sleep. We need to maintain an average body temperature of 98 degrees. And (arguably) we need hope.

That's it.

What does that mean for getting through Boot Camp?

Will there be air to breathe? Yes.
Will there be water to drink? Yes.
Will there be food to eat? Yes.
Will I be allowed to sleep? Yes.
Will it be possible to maintain an average body temperature of 98 degrees? Yes.
Is there hope of completion? Always.

Therefore, survival is guaranteed.

All of the humiliation of the Drill Instructors, all of the loneliness and missing of families. They are all mental things that have little to do with physical survival. Even difficulties with the physical such as running or swimming are not essential to survival provided you are meeting the requirements for basic survival. Barring any medical problem that should have been addressed before leaving for recruit training the body will adapt to the new demands placed upon it and will be able to get over the challenges placed before it. Learning to separate and focus on those things that are needed at the time, I believe, will go a long way to ensure completion of any trial, be it Boot Camp or being lost in the woods.

When I'm getting yelled at or sent to the quarterdeck for the fifth time in a day, will I be tired? Yes. Will I be humiliated? Yes. Will I survive? Given the criteria for survival? Yes.

Boot Camp doesn't scare me. I certainly hope I don't screw anything up and I would like to hope it will be easier than I'm anticipating. But I refuse to sweat the small stuff.

I'll keep my mouth shut. Sound off loudly when required. Do what I'm told when I'm told and give everything I've got at everything I do.

If my hair gets in the way I'll cut it off. If I brought too much or too little I'll toss what I don't need and learn to do without. When I start missing my husband and my son I'll focus on my primary needs and remember the hope of seeing them again.

I'll survive.

Deployments

An Army recruiter asked me how I feel about being deployed.

In honesty, if I were go an entire enlistment and not get deployed somewhere, at some time, I think I would feel like I'd been cheated out of the whole military experience. Deployments, after all, are what the military does.

I am not someone who walks into a recruiter's office and says, "Can you get me a non-deployable MOS?"

First, I know there really is no such thing. If you want to join the military you have to accept the possibility--even probability--that you are going to be deployed. I have accepted this, if not embraced it.

Yes, I would miss my family. Who doesn't? But I would also strive to go into the deployment with a sense of pride and duty that I'd be doing what I was trained to do. Our military is not trained so that it can sit on its butt in the states. It is trained to go and meet the enemy at their own gates and confront them on their own turf. Why join the military if you aren't willing to go to that front and do what you are trained to do?

I know that seems a bit at odds with the idea of being a family woman but I can't help but see how so many military families make deployments work and are strong, thriving families. I, personally, don't see the difference between a mother or a father deploying either.

I read an article the other day that condemned mothers for serving in the military and deploying but said nothing of deploying fathers. Is there a difference? Is the absence of one parental unit better than the absence of another? Is a father's willingness to serve and deploy more acceptable than a mother's?

In my very humble opinion I would rather my son be raised without a mother than without a father, especially upon considering the kind of father he would be missing. My husband is a good, strong, confidence, independent, decisive, commanding man and a wonderful father. He has so much to teach and give his son and I have no doubt that with or without me, with nothing but the guidance of his father, our son would grow into a very confident and moral young man. I have that much faith and confidence in my husband. If I didn't, I wouldn't have married him, I wouldn't have had a child with him and I certainly wouldn't leave my child to be raised alone with him for months at a time.

Yeah, my husband might dress our son in clothes that don't match or have some trouble getting his coat on him or find it awkward to bathe him but in the end he is a father among fathers. I would not hesitate to leave my son in his care while I went to training or even on a deployment.

Determined and Scared to Death

I wanted to join the military when I was a kid. I could give you a million reasons why it didn't happen but the long and short of it is that I chickened out. If I wanted it bad enough I could have had it but I took those excuses and ran with them and some of them were darned good excuses. I took the path of least resistance and while it has led me to many wonderful things in my life it has left me wondering "what if" and regretting that which I never did.

I went to college, got married, had a child, worked many interesting and wonderful jobs but the desire to serve never left me, not ever for a second. Neither has that desire faded but rather grown in its intensity until it is all that I can think about. I've tried to bury it with work. I've tried to live vicariously through my husband and his service. I've tried distracting myself with my son but in the end I have nothing left but the knowledge that I've not done what I was called to do a dozen years ago.

Life has a funny way of bringing opportunities around and this thing called life just walked up to me with a silver platter and said, "This is it. If you don't do it now you never will. Take this opportunity because I won't be coming back with it."

I talked to my husband and he promised to support me completely so I started looking around at the different branches of service and seeing recruiters. I have always had the utmost respect for Marines. Heck, I married one. Though my husband has been out for three years now he still has that espirit de Corps that is infectious. After spending ten years around Marines I know as much as I can know without being a Marine myself. I know the ranks and the MOS fields and structure. I know cutting scores, lingo, policies, history, etc, but still I didn't even consider the Marines until I realized that, while looking through some Air Force information, I was having to convert everything into Marine Corps terms to understand it.

It hit me. Why not the Marines? Why settle for another branch when you already love and know the Corps?

It fit and when I told my husband of my new plan he got a big grin on his face and immediately started giving me tips on surviving Boot Camp and making lists of things I'll have to know. He got out his Green Monster from Boot Camp and installed a pull-up bar in my office so I can work on my flexed-arm hangs. He has been geeking out about the idea of his wife becoming a Marine ever since.

But here I am, shaking like a leaf. This is where I chickened out so many times. At least three times in my past I looked into my military future and turned away. It's not fear of deployments or physical trials. I'm not afraid of being yelled at or anything the military can do to me. In truth, I'm not exactly sure what I'm afraid of.

When I went down to the Marine Corps Recruiting Office, the recruiter had me (like all potential recruits) arrange tiles with words like "physical fitness", "college benefits" and "Professional Development and Opportunities," on them in order of importance. It's a way to gauge why people are enlisting and if it is for the right reasons.

My top four were: "Courage, Poise and Self-Confidence," "Pride of Belonging," "Leadership and Management Skills" and "Professional Development and Opportunities."

When asked to explain why I chose those tiles I explained that my life has become stale and my skills are atrophying from lack of use. While perhaps I'm not completely void of the things listed on those tiles they are the things I want to develop in myself. I want--no, need--to make a change in my life that allows me to feel like I'm doing something and going somewhere.

Yes, I love my family and have gotten great satisfaction from being a wife and a mother but I know to many house-wives who, once their children are gone, go on to be bitter old hags because they never developed themselves professionally. Their sense of purpose began and ended with their children and once their children were gone they lost that purpose and it embittered and angered them even leaving them to resent the life they chose.

For me, it's not about the money or the benefits. I think I'd still do this even if I got payed a dollar a week. I want the challenge. I want to be pushed out of my comfort zone, broken down and built back up to something bigger and better than myself. I want to earn the title I've respected and loved for so long.

Upon sharing that with my husband he just laughed and said, "Then you chose the right branch."

I don't want to chicken out. I don't want to find an excuse not to do this no matter how hard a part of me is looking for one. This is my last opportunity and I don't want to waste it. I don't want to look at myself in the mirror ten years from now and find a coward staring back at me. I don't want to be afraid but I am.

Perhaps I'm afraid that I'm not doing this for the right reasons. Perhaps I'm afraid of what this will do to my family. Perhaps I'm afraid of how much I will miss my husband and my son. Maybe I'm afraid of the uncertainty of it all. Maybe I'm afraid I'll hate it. I know I'm afraid of failure.

I heard once that courage is not the absence of fear. It's being afraid and acting anyway.

I need a good dose of action.