Guest blog by Julie Rivera, Julie Rivera Photography
It dawned on me one morning, as my husband and I participated in the intricate choreography necessary to be in our current master bathroom at the same time, that we will never know a normal rhythm. We will never work out all the kinks of cohabitation as long as we keep moving and keep reinventing our routine.
On the way to my youngest daughter’s preschool, I thought more about this notion of routine. For one year, we will have the routine of sending the 2nd grader out the door at 8:10 am, listening for the bus so I can give one final wave at 8:20 am, then loading the little one in the car for the 20 minute drive to downtown Columbus.
For one year, I will have approximately 3 hours every Monday through Friday when both children are in school. For one year, I will try to remember school releases early on Tuesdays and I can’t squeeze a grocery trip in between preschool pickup and elementary school bus drop off.
For one year, I know my husband will be home every night.
Then I think of my handful of non-military friends and try to imagine their lives. I absolutely acknowledge I look at these lives through rose colored glasses. I have never known long term stability, growing up as the dependent of a career Navy man, joining the Navy myself, then marrying an Army guy. But the lives that take place in one town must have a different flavor. All the children in her family attend the same schools. So she knows when school starts and when it releases. As it was last year and as it will be next year. The dance classes and art teachers and awesome summer camps have been vetted years ago and she knows exactly when the registration deadlines arrive so she can be certain she secures a spot for her child.
She has the pediatrician and dentist all figured out. She knows how long it takes to get to the doctors’ offices; she knows how long appointments generally last. She knows who her hair dresser is and her favorite grocery stores and the great coffee shops around town.
Heck, she even knows how she needs to stagger morning alarms so the bathroom can be cleared out in time for the second occupant. She just knows. From years of developing her routine, she knows what to expect from one year to the next.
But one year to the next for the military family? We will be in another state, another school system, fumbling through the formulation of another routine, hunting for summer camps, hair dressers and the “good” doctors. Yet with these obvious obstacles and nuisances comes the opportunity to shift gears and get out of the ruts in which we find ourselves.
If we had not moved, my preschooler would be in a three day a week preschool program instead of a five day a week program that really nurtures her. If we had not moved, I would still be driving my school aged daughter to school each morning, then loading her sister up with a pack of fruit snacks to wait 20 minutes in the pick up lane at the end of the school day because there were no buses in her district.
If we had not moved, I would not have been forced to find a new hairdresser, someone who looked at my hair differently and suggested a slightly longer style that I really love. If we had not moved, I wouldn’t have purged clothes, dishes and toys that could be enjoyed by a new family.
If we had not moved, I would not know that I really desire a bathroom with plenty of space for two people to use the sinks at the same time.
Julie Rivera has lived within the military her entire life. First as a dependent of a Navy Supply Corps Officer, next as an active duty Navy Supply Corps Officer, and now as the wife of an Army Artilleryman. She has over seven years experience as a mother and over five years experience as the owner of Julie Rivera Photography. Her children might be among the most chronicled on the planet and she absolutely loves when she has the chance to turn her lens on new families and children. See more of her work on her website at http://www.julieriveraphotography.com.
Related Content:
- Military Motherhood: Hang the Curtains
- Military Motherhood: It’s OK to Leave
- Military Motherhood: Well, back in Virginia…
