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.

News Spreads

Saturday I called my sister to talk about down comforters and her washing routine.

In the course of the conversation she said, "Umm, do you have something you want to tell me?"

"About what?"

"Oh, about something you are planning on doing in the future."

"Mom told you, huh?"

"Ahh, yeah... So?"

I have two sisters and one brother. My brother in a career Sailor currently serving in Iraq so it's not a huge surprise to me or anyone else that he is supportive of my decision to join the Marines. The closest my sisters have ever gotten to anything military is hugging our brother. They are both so detached from all things military that when I put a "SEMPER FI" bumper sticker in my car one of my sisters asked me if it was a sorority that I had joined in college. I am/was not expecting either of them to understand or encourage me. Actually, I was expecting to get quite the lashing.

"Well," I began, "I'm joining the Marine Corps."

Bless her, my sister was trying to be gentle when she started saying, "Well, what exactly is the... ah. How did you... What am I trying to say?"

"What am I thinking?" I asked.

She laughed, "Well, yeah. What are you thinking?"

I pretty much laid it all down for her. My wish to serve my country. My drive to do something more. My revulsion at the thought of my glory days being high school and my goals to develop myself professionally and personally.

I expected her to lay into me about my responsibilities of home and how she thought I was crazy and she couldn't believe I was doing this and I was an idiot.

Instead, she amazed me by saying, "I understand. You want something that's yours. I told Mom that I could see that restlessness in you how you kept talking about wanting something more and school and wanting a challenge. I didn't know exactly what you were going to do and this is a huge shock but, at the same time, it really doesn't surprise me."

She went on to tell me she thought I would do a great job and be a great Marine. She was happy that I was doing something I've always wanted to do and wished me luck and success.

I was so blown away and so grateful and happy. If there's anything I've craved since the beginning of this process it's the support of those I love the most, my family. I have the greatest and most wonderful family a person could ask for and whereas I originally thought this may put them off I have been pleasantly surprised to find my family rallying around me and cheering me on.

It makes me feel so blessed to know I have such a support behind me. Not everyone can say that and I truly am grateful.

ASVAB, MEPS, Duck Walk

When I took the practice ASVAB at my recruiter's office back in October or 2009 I got a score of 67. I was told that was still above average and good but I was not happy with it. The area of most issue was the Arithmetic Reasoning (AR) which both surprised and frustrated me. I'm very good at math and have always loved it, but, for one, I haven't taken any sort of algebra since high school (MANY years ago) and I am so precise in my calculations and processes that it takes me way too long to do a simple problem which means I didn't complete all of the AR questions in the alloted time frame.

I went out and got the McGraw Hill ASVAB study guide and a book called Painless Word Problems.

I worked through the entire Word Problems book and also worked through the McGraw Hill study guide.

However, whenever I took the practice tests in the back of the ASVAB study book I still couldn't go fast enough to complete all of the AR portion which severely hurt my final scores.

So it's not really a huge surprise that when the test day rolled around I was very nervous and anxious. I also had way too much coffee and was hit very strongly with the realization that this was really and truly happening. My leaving for MEPS meant that it wasn't just talk any more and there was no backing out (at least not in my mind). It was also the first time since my son was born that I would be away from him for the night and when you heaped all of those things together I was more jittery than a bunny rabbit on caffeine.

I had no appetite and could barely finish a few chicken sticks for lunch.

When we arrived at the recruiter's office I felt ill. Looking at my son smile up at me and giggle was almost too much to bear and I was so close to saying, "I can't do this." I know myself well enough to know that once he was out of my sight I would be able to recover so my husband lingering around with him and chatting with the recruiter was agony. As much as I didn't want them to go I was silently thinking, "I have to get out of here NOW or I won't be able to do this."

I was very relieved when my recruiter ushered my husband and son out of the front door and said we'd take the back. My husband threw my bag at me and said, "You carry your own gear." I would have laughed more heartily were it not for the fact I was feeling dizzy so I kissed him and my son quickly and turned my back to go before I either threw up or fainted.

As I had predicted, as soon as they were out of sight I started to feel better and by the time we were in the car and heading to MEPS I was almost back to normal with only a few small twists in my gut.

DAY ONE: THE ASVAB

We arrived at the MEPS and my recruiter chatted it up with a few other recruiters while I checked in with my Driver's License and Social Security card. There was also a form I had to sign. They had me read a small booklet with the rules and emergency plan and then took fingerprints of my right and left index fingers and a photo of me. Next I was told to proceed to the testing area where a Sailor would get me started.

The testing room was just a room with a desk, a lot of computers and a hushed, library-like atmosphere with a number of people taking the test.

The Sailor verified my information, sat me down at a computer and said, "Good luck."

I started the ASVAB.

Before I knew it I was done with General Science (GS) and on to Arithmetic Reasoning (AR). I have always been the kind of person who is nervous until I'm actually doing whatever it is that I'm nervous about. Once I'm actually doing the act I see no point in being nervous and I muscle forward in confidence, sure that I will do my best. I didn't even hesitate to start the AR section and before I knew it I was done. I had finished all of the questions with time to spare which made relief sweep over me and the rest of the test was a breeze.

I flew through the Word Knowledge (WK) and Paragraph Comprehension (PC) and even found the Mathematics Knowledge (MK) to be easy. The Electronics Information (EL) part was fun and only the Auto & Shop Information (AS) section was a little out of my range of knowledge. I made some educated guesses and moved on to Mechanical Comprehension (MC) which I had no problem with. Assembling Objects (AO) was the last section which was rather fun; kind of like doing a puzzle but without being able to move the pieces.

It was all over so quickly and the Sailor was back to verify my information again and tell me to go out to reception and wait for my recruiter.

He arrived and off we went to the office to check my score and fill out more paperwork.

When we got to the office, he queued up his computer and said, "Well, you got an 86."

I said, "WHAT!"

He said, "Yeah, look," while turning the screen to where I could see my score.

Sure enough, there it was. My AFQT was 86 with a GT of 118 and an EL of 120+ and the rest just kind of floated away. I was very, very happy.

Then I sat there signing my name again and again and again until my hand hurt. I signed statements of understanding that I had not taken drugs, had no tattoos, was not involved in any gang or discriminatory group, was not a Consciencious objector. Then I had to sign paperwork stating I was not sexually harassed and understood the Marine Corps policy on sexual harassment, drugs, tattoos and discriminatory groups. Finally I signed paperwork regarding my time in service and job though it is subject to change in the next few weeks. I also signed my background check forms stating that I had not lied and was agreeing to let the FBI pick apart my past.

After all of that was done my recruiter put all of that paperwork into a sealed envelop with mine, my husband's and son's birth certificates, Social Security cards and marriage licenses and told me to give it all to my liaison the next day at the MEPS.

Off we went to the hotel where I was briefed on the rules of no drugs, no alcohol, stay on your floor, dinner goes till 10:00, you must be in your room at 10:00, this is when you'll get your wake-up call, breakfast is served here, bus leaves at 5:20, stuff.

I went back to my room, called my husband and was happy to hear that my son had taken my absence much better than I had taken his. He ate dinner well and was currently getting sleepy and my husband was just about to put him to sleep. When I got off the phone with him I called my parents and gave them the update then grabbed my meal voucher for a much needed dinner. I was starved.

Just about the time I was leaving my room I remembered that there was a mandatory meeting for the MEPS applicants and I hurried to the room, glad that I was on time. There I met the only other female who would be my room mate.

After the meeting I went to dinner and had a large and tasty cheeseburger. My room mate came in shortly after I ordered and we ate together and talked about our chosen branches of service, why we wanted to serve and the like.

By the time I got back to my room it was about 9:00 and I was quick to call my husband to tell him goodnight and ask about his plans to come and pick me up at the MEPS the next day. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and slipped into bed where I lay wide awake for the next four hours. Even when I did manage to find I had fallen asleep, something as small as the heater kicking on would send my eyes shooting open where I would remain awake for another ungodly amount of time.

DAY TWO: MEPS

Four in the morning comes all too quickly when you can't sleep and before you know it the phone was ringing.

I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth and the phone rang to tell us that there had been flooding in some of the streets and we needed to hurry because the bus was leaving earlier than usual to take another route to the MEPS.

My room mate and I rushed down stairs where we stuffed ourselves with eggs, bacon and orange juice while the bus driver stood watch at the door and then we were on the bus and heading to MEPS.

The term "Hurry Up and Wait" is EXACTLY what MEPS is all about. We hurried into a line in front of the building only to wait for our turn to pass our bags through the screener and walk through a metal detector. We hurried into formation only to wait through a long and boring briefing about darned-near every room in the building and the rules such as no cell phones, no gum, no hands in pockets, no lying, go here, then there, then back here again, address everyone appropriately, don't be cute, have a nice day.

We hurried through role call and to our selected service liaison's office where the five of us who were joining the Marines were told the exact same things as in our original briefing only this time with many more expletives provided by our liaison, an ornery Staff Sergeant with the shortest strawberry blond hair you can imagine and sharp blue eyes that he was deliberate about boring into each and every one of us.

Then we hurried over to medical where we waited our turn to have our eyesight, ears, blood, urine and bodies checked from head to stinky toe.

I'm happy to report that I am not color blind, have better than average near sightedness in my right eye and perfect hearing.

I'm also not pregnant.

It was completely useless to be first in line because you still had to wait for everyone else to complete the process before you could move on anyway. Wether you were first, middle or last made no difference, you hurried and waited just as long as everyone else.

Finally it was time for me and the other gal to do our physical portion which was hilarious and kind of fun. We got stuck in a room by ourselves and told to strip down to our underwear. First they took our height and weight and I was irritated to find I am still four pounds underweight though my recruiter tells me he is sure to get me a waiver.

After that we had to wait for the doctor to come in and while we waited we read the motions off the board and were attempting to do them on our own. When the doctor and the nurse arrived we were both laughing and having a good time. We did all the funky movements and, yes, the duck walk does kind of stick with you.

Next we had to go individually into an exam room where the doctor looked us over head to toe. Mostly he asked me about my weight and pregnancy and then I was told to hurry and get dressed and wait in the reception area.

I hurried, I waited.

While waiting I took a peak at the doctor's notes and I was happy to see that he specifically noted I did not have an eating disorder, or allergy to any food and was healthy and normal.

Next it was time to go back to our liaison's offices and the five of us wannabe Marines hurried over there only to be colorfully told to sit down and wait. We hurried. We waited some more.

While we were waiting we noticed the other applicants chatting and laughing with their service liaisons while the five of us sat stick straight and silently outside of the Marine Corps office like we were waiting for the door to explode and that red-blond SSgt to come out guns blazing.

The other gal came out of her liaison office and said, "He told me to go to lunch. Want to come?"

I said, "My guy told me to sit here so I'm staying."

It was now 10:30 and the cafeteria was open, our stomachs were growling and while everyone else was heading to lunch the five of us sat there like little stone statues.

An hour rolled by and we didn't move.

Finally, the head guy who had initially briefed us upon entering came over and asked if any of us had eaten. We told him we hadn't and he stuck his head in the Marine Corps liaison's office, then came out and told us to go eat. We practically tripped over each other on our way to the cafeteria.

We ate fast and were back to the liaisons office where, FINALLY, the first one was called in.

Another forty-five minutes and I was called to the front desk to meet my husband and son. I was so happy to see both of them but couldn't stay to chat as I was the only one left to be seen by my liaison.

I went back to his office and sat there just as he brought another applicant out of his office.

"Did you do your pull-ups at your recruiter's office?" he asked the kid.

"Yes, Sir," the boy answered.

"Well, I don't give a [colorful-phrase] what you say you did there. You are going to do them for me, here. Get on my pull-up bar."

The boy hurried over to the red pull-up bar with "MARINES" stenciled all over it and started his pull-ups while the liaison counted them out.

I winced.

My prior recruiter had told me that there would be no strength testing at MEPS and to attempt to conserve my weight for the weigh-in I was told not to work out until after MEPS so I didn't loose any precious ounces. Outside of doing my daily Yoga I have not been working out, so I was a bit nervous as to what I knew was coming.

Sure enough, after the boy dropped from the bar, the SSgt turned to me and said, "You! Did you do your flexed-arm hang?"

"No, Sir."

"Get on my bar."

Because I'm shorter than most he had to give me a boost up to the bar where I held on for dear life as he timed me on his watch.

I was very surprised to here the words, "You're doing good," come out of his mouth and I did 32 pathetic seconds before I dropped to the floor.

Wordlessly he disappeared back into his office and because I was not told to follow I sat back in the waiting area and waited some more.

Another ten minutes went by and he finally called me in to go over my paperwork.

We got to the drug portion and I knew what was going to happen.

"Have you ever taken any drugs?"

"No, Sir."

"Abused any prescription drugs?"

"No, Sir."

He looked me in the face doubtfully. "Never a hit from marijuana? Not a night at a party where you were having a little too much fun..."

"No, Sir."

"You're sure, because it doesn't necessarily disqualify you. You lie to me, however, and I find out about it and you will be disqualified and can be prosecuted for fraudulent enlistment. So, I'm going to ask again, ANY drugs?"

"No, Sir."

"Have you ever gotten high off of anything?"

"No, Sir."

He doesn't know that growing up I never so much as touched the stuff. Sure, I had the same opportunities as others to do drugs but they scared me to death. After hearing one girl talk about being date raped and having a bad trip where she was hallucinating worms on the walls and waking up in rooms she couldn't recognize without her clothes as a result of getting high I was scared straight and never so much as wanted to look at the stuff. I am a pure drug virgin and plan on dying that way.

"I bet you don't have many people who can say they've never touched drugs," I said.

"Everyone says it," he said, a touch of annoyance in his voice, "I just don't believe it."

"I suppose that's true," I said. "People don't believe me when I say I've never touched drugs but I haven't. And I don't care if they believe me or not. I know what I know and it's that I've never done any kind of drugs."

He rolled his eyes and carried on with the paperwork, making notes as we went.

When I was done he gave me my Service Record Book (SRB) and told me to give it to my recruiter and ordered me out of his office.

After that I checked out and walked out of the MEPS into fresh air, happy to see my husband sitting in the car with our son in his lap, his head sticking out of the window and pointing at me.

We had to go over to the recruiter's office and give him my SRB and my husband had to sign some stuff indicating that he is mentally, physically and financially able to take care of our son while I'm in training.

After that he took me out to dinner and it was time to go home.

All in all it was a boring, long process.

I would never be convinced that it is hard or bad or humiliating, etc. I suppose that after giving birth and having at least twelve doctors and nurses seeing me naked, screaming and sweaty, having another doctor and nurse and girl see me in my underwear while I duck walk around the room is nothing.

Next I have to get my college transcripts, which I requested this morning, and when all of the blood work and initial background check info comes back I will swear in and sign my Department of Defense (DoD) contract and be sworn in to the DEP.

I'm told this should all be done before April 1 and right now I have my choice between an August ship date and an October one.

We'll see, but I'm wanting to take the August one.

Till then, it's just more waiting.

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.

MEPS: My Birthday Present from the Corps

This upcoming Monday is my birthday. It just so happens that that is the day I will be taking my ASVAB then spending the night and heading to MEPS the next day.

My initial reaction was to be a little bummed that I'm going to be spending my birthday away from my family but, ever the beaming optimist, I chose to see my first night in my own hotel room since I can remember as the greatest birthday present myself and the Marine Corps could do for me.

A free hotel room with my own bed, complete control over the remote (even though I'll be going to bed early), no diapers to change, dishes to be done, laundry to fold, floors to sweep... nothing.

I'm pretty sure a long bath is in order and an early bedtime all by myself in, hopefully, a king size bed.

Sure, I have to get up at 0400 the next morning to head to MEPS but I think it's safe to say I will welcome a full night to myself.

Yep, I'm ready.

Telling the Family

Boy, am I glad that is over.

After coming back from the recruiter's office on Saturday we decided it was time to tell my parents.

I will admit. I was a bit nervous. I had a pretty good idea of what they were going to say but there is always room for the unknown, unexpected and just plain wild.

My mom answered the phone and I said, "Well, there's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to be blunt. I'm joining the Marine Corps Reserves."

Thankfully, I know my parents a lot better than even I give myself credit for and they reacted just as I expected they would.

After the initial, "You're kidding!" my mother said I was crazy and my father agreed. Then they both started in on the questions as to why, when, where, what, with loads and loads of "what ifs" mixed in.

To sum up an hour and fourteen-minutes of conversation into as few words as possible: They aren't thrilled. They don't understand. They want me to change my mind. They will pray for God's will. Once I've past the point of no return they will be 100% supportive.

I can't wait for the 100% supportive part.

My brother, a Sailor of twelve years, went through this with my parents and when I told him the news this morning he was just as surprised but much more supportive. At the very least he has said, "You can do it," whereas my mother said, "You'll snap like a twig."

Ahhh, the differing opinions.

Drilling Stations, Paperwork and Options

When I said I loved my new recruiter I thought I had known what love is. Today, I adore him.

You see, many moons ago while we were researching reserve units and drilling stations we became aware of two drilling stations that I would immediately be eligible for and a third that was only a matter of twelve miles farther than the original two but still outside of my state. When we asked my prior recruiter whether or not I would be able to drill at that station he originally said, "I don't know," then, "You'll need a distance waiver," then, "I'll check with my SSgt," then, "No," then, "What drilling stations were you looking at again?"

It was very frustrating.

Since my husband did six months in the Reserves after his time in Active Duty he had known plenty of Marines who were drilling long distances from their homes and so we knew that a distance waiver certainly was not unobtainable though no one seemed to know how to obtain one or the steps needed to even start the process of getting one. My recruiter was about as helpful as a heart attack and my husband and after getting almost nothing but snarky responses from Marine message boards my husband and I simply resorted to reading through the Marine Corps recruiting manual.

Still we could find no clear answers as to whether this third duty station (an Air Wing with many more technical MOSs available) was even an option for me.

But we figured we would give it a try with this new recruiter. Last night we asked him if this third drilling station would be an option for me and he explained it like this:

Because I am female I cannot drill in the two drilling stations in my state and I will need a distance waiver to go to the second two drilling stations anyway. The only issue with the third drilling station was that is was in another recruiting station and may mean my needing to be recruited from that station unless the Commanding Officer (CO) approved a distance waiver for me to go to that third drilling station which he would only do based on the benefit of my being there.

My recruiter said it wouldn't hurt to ask, however, and just before we left his office last night he wrote a note on my paperwork to ask his CO about the possibility of my being approved for a distance waiver to go to the Air Wing Unit.

We had to go back in to the office today and sign and have notarized documents that state that I will not be paying child support while at Recruit Training and that my husband will be the sole physical custodian of my son as well as a financial work up of our household and childcare for when we need to enroll in the Defense Enrollment Eligibility Reporting System (DEERS).

When we stepped in the door, we shook hands and my recruiter said, "I have some good news. I talked to the CO and he said it wouldn't be a problem for you to get approved for the Air Wing Unit so we'll start looking at what's available for MOSs up that direction too."

I think that even my husband was ready to give him a hug at that point.

This was one of the HUGE questions that we couldn't find an answer to and inside of sixteen hours my recruiter got me the answer that I needed (not to mention the answer that I was hoping for).

I filled out all of the medical screening forms and then we went down to the bank and had signed and notarized all of the custody paperwork. I also handed in my SF86 which is the paperwork for my FBI background check and security clearance. I've had it for four months and am finally glad to be rid of it.

The only thing left is the ASVAB and MEPS. I got a decent practice ASVAB score always getting 100% on the Vocabulary, Paragraph Comprehension and Mathematical Knowledge portions, but I wasn't happy with my arithmetic reasoning so I've been studying like crazy these last couple of nights to hopefully boost my final Armed Forces Qualification Test (AFQT) score.

My recruiter wants me off to MEPS hopefully this upcoming week provided we can find childcare for that time while I'm gone and my husband is at work.

The sooner the better!

Step One

I love my new recruiter.

He is smart, sure of himself, informed and everything my prior recruiter was not.

Our meeting tonight was everything I hoped it could be.

Unfortunately my recruiter was not able to find any of my paperwork from the prior recruiter so we had to go through all of the boring details again but it was a small price to pay for the answers and reassurances.

We got further tonight than I have been able to get in the previous six months and to sum up an hour long meeting I'll just say that tomorrow my husband need to go in to sign papers regarding our son including my signing off physical custody to my husband for the duration of my Recruit Training. We'll also be signing some financial paperwork stating that my husband will not be able to access my pay while I'm in training and other such documents.

Within the next two weeks I'll be going to MEPS and then my recruiter will submit a distance waiver for me to get approved for the drilling stations I might be drilling at. Once that comes back (which he said can take one to two weeks, sometimes a little longer) I'll be able to swear in if not by the 1st of April then the 1st of May at which point I will officially be in the Delayed Entry Program (DEP).

He said that currently the earliest anyone is able to ship is October so I'm looking at another nine month wait, at least, before I even stand on those yellow footprints but this is at least one step in that direction.

Provided nothing goes wrong at MEPS I should be a Poolee in a matter of weeks.

I'm so excited and nervous, scared and happy. This is the most conflicted I've ever felt in my life and I thank God for a good, strong husband who has been supporting me and encouraging me through this journey.

When I picked up my son from his babysitter I had to give him an extra little hug and kiss. I'm going to miss him so much and I can't hold him and kiss him enough to make up for my time away from him.

On a side note, we found out tonight that not only was my previous recruiter fired, but also kicked out of the Marine Corps. We didn't get specifics, only that he was involved in "shady practices." And I can't say how many times he said he was going to be a lifer.

What a day.

Pastoral Approval

Since I started this journey in September of last year I have wanted to sit down with our pastor to get his advice and guidance on my joining the Marines. Why it has taken me six months to actually do it, I don't know. Maybe I was afraid he'd come up with that final good reason not to go forward with it. Either way, the procrastination ended last night.

Our pastor came up to the house and with our son bouncing around between the three of us like a ping-pong ball I told him of my desires and dreams and asked him for guidance.

He had to think for a few moments and admitted that in twenty years of pastoring he'd never advised a woman, wife and mother on whether or not to join the military.

He asked us a series of questions mostly relating to the care of our child once I was gone and directed a majority of his questions at my husband.

"You've been deployed, I assume," he said, and my husband nodded. "And so you have experienced everything your wife is likely to experience in her career, correct?"

Again, my husband nodded.

"And do you think she can handle it all?"

My husband looked at me and said, "I know she can handle it. Physically, emotionally, mentally. I have no doubt she can do it."

Hearing that made something inside of me blossom with pride, love, relief. There are very few people in this life that I seek approval from and one of them is my husband. While there have been very few matters in which he has disapproved of me I was afraid that this might be one of them. To hear his acceptance and approval spoken aloud to someone other than me and in such a confident tone was like coming up for air after being under water too long. It was sweet and rejuvenating.

After a few more questions from our pastor with satisfactory answers from us my pastor looked at me and said, "I have no reason to tell you not to do this. I mean, what you want is certainly not a sin and as long as your husband is for this and you've made the proper preparations for your son then there's no reason I can think of to tell you no. Keep praying and as long as God doesn't slam the door shut I would say to go forward with it."

Another breath of relief.

My husband equated it to a nice check mark in the "positive" column on the list of positive and negative reasons to join the Corps.

So far we have far more positive reasons than negative.

Next will be a pretty hard one though: our parents.

New Recruiter

Since Christmas I'm happy to say that my recruiter, let's call him Sgt Smith, has blissfully left me alone. I was assuming it was because he finally heard and understood my desire to wait until later on this year to enlist and decided he would allow me the courtesy of contacting him when I was ready.

But when I picked my cell phone up on Friday to take my son to his pediatric appointment I discovered that I had a missed call from Tuesday and a voicemail message waiting for me.

I listened to the message and was a little surprised to hear my recruiter saying that he was following up with me and seeing if I was still interested in joining the Corps.

I immediately tried calling his cell phone only to be met by a busy tone and no voicemail. Figuring it would only be a matter of time until he made it back to the office I called the office number and left a message that I was, indeed, still interested, but still intending to wait until later on in the year. I left my home phone number (the number I have told him time and time again to contact me on as I only use my cell when going out) and left it at that.

Saturday came and went and most of Sunday before our home phone rang and my husband answered.

After a few pleasant exchanges my husband exclaimed, "Ahhh, Sgt Smith" (not his real name) "has been replaced?" He gave me a triumphant thumb's-up and continued with, "No, sir, my wife. She's the one interested in joining."

I immediately moved to eavesdrop and heard that my, now-previous recruiter was not cutting it and that, "the Marine Corps had ways of working these things out."

My husband put Sgt Smith's replacement on the phone and I was introduced to a very knowledgeable and confident SSgt who assured me that all of my questions would be answered and he would do his best to see me make my dream.

"My biggest concern," I said, "was that I didn't want to ship until later this year. Sgt Smith kept pushing me to ship in two months from the day I went to MEPS and if that was the case I didn't want to go until later. I will tell you what I told him and that is that I have no problem going to MEPS and being sworn into the Delayed Entry Program, I just don't want to ship until later in the year. Sgt Smith didn't seem to think that was possible. So is that possible or not?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered and I felt like dancing.

I asked him a few more questions about MOSs and he said that since he'd only been on the job for a matter of a few days he wasn't sure what was available for me and that he couldn't even find my file but that he would look into it and get back to me.

In less than twenty-four hours I had a returned phone call with available MOSs for me and an appointment to sit down with him and go over my options and get the ball rolling.

This is, quite literally, a breath of fresh air and such a relief. I am looking forward to meeting with my new recruiter and finally getting some answers.

On one hand I've very excited and on the other I have butterflies swarming in my stomach. I keep thinking of my boy. Staring at him as he eats and plays and sleeps and knowing how much I'm going to miss him. I've been without my husband many times before and that doesn't scare me but the knowledge that I'll be away from my son is the difficult part to bear.

In the end, though, I know I would regret not doing this for the rest of my life and I also know it's only a few months (well, initially).

What can I say? I'm a mom who loves her kid and doesn't want to be away from him. Anyone who can't appreciate doesn't know the first thing about a mother's love for her children.

So.... here we go... scared to death, but determined.