Florida.

It's been about three-ish weeks since I've become a Florida resident and lots of things have changed on top of my zip code. It has been difficult being so far from the comforts of home, family, and friends, but I take it one day at a time in hopes of learning the ropes. I'm not working, which makes me feel like a bum, slightly lonely and unproductive, but relaxing to a point. We have officially adopted a Beagle/Labrador mix and that is a learning experience in itself. I've never trained a puppy before, but according to my husband it's "super easy" and anyone can do it, not to mention great practice for when the baby gets here.

Yeah. Okay.

I thought I had a few years before I had to tell another being to stop humping everything in sight (other than my husband, of course), but apparently I was wrong. Hopefully, I won't have to train my baby to not bite my ankles and growl and lunge at my face bearing his teeth. I am living alone for the first time in my life, which is both liberating and trying at times. I have never been that great at being alone, but the upside is, I can cook naked if I wanted to (not that I have... Or have I? O_o).

The biggest challenge I have faced thus far is learning to be a military wife. I watched Army Wives for a long time, and most of my knowledge about what it meant to be a spouse to a service member came from there. Yes, it was a television show. But it wasn't completely inaccurate. I learned some terms that have come in handy. But actually experiencing is an entirely different thing that you can't really prepare yourself for, no matter how many times you watch Roxy and Pamela complain about the military.

So, here are some things I have learned, realized or accepted (half or whole-heartedly) in the journey, thus far:

No PDA. As I'm sure most people suspect, I am a huge advocate of PDA. Not full-on-make-a-baby kind of PDA, but I enjoy kissing my husband whenever I want. I like to hold his hand. I want to throw my arms around him after not seeing him for a few days; hell, I want to throw my arms around him just because I can. But no. Anywhere on base, regardless if he is in uniform or civies (civilian clothes for you nonmilitary folk), we basically have to treat each other like we have the Black Plague. When walking, we're usually about three feet apart from each other. It feels a lot like a sixth grade dance and the United States Navy is the crotchety, old English teacher standing close by to make sure there's no canoodling.

I don't really exist. I mean, obviously, I do, but when I am on base, I'm not really acknowledged. My husband gets the "Sup, Greer" (yes, people still say "sup") or "Hey, Greer, do you *insert something Navy/work/school related*?" from his fellow sailors while I just sit by as an acquaintance and wait until they finish their banter. I do get the occasional "Hey, Greer's Wife" from one person that I met before boot camp. This just may be a guy thing, not getting introductions or giving them. I guess I should just embrace my newfound identity as Greer's Wife. Why not? In a few years, I'll just be Rowan's Mom.

And when I am on base, I feel completely scrutinized with every step. There are so many rules to follow and I always feel like I'm doing everything wrong. He tells me not to stress and just relax, but that's hard to do when he criticizes me for walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk or not smiling at the guard who's on watch at the gate. And sometimes, I forget that I'm not allowed to touch my husband and try to grab his hand. How DARE I?! But really, it's not an easy task walking around one a military base where everyone is in uniform and you have to say and do all the right things because God forbid you step out of bounds with someone who is way on up there and it comes back to bite your husband in the ass. Usually, I just keep my mouth shut and walk with my tail between my legs, metaphorically speaking.

The Navy will always come first. Above my husband's happiness, his son's, and my own. They are his priority for the time being, and, though it's not always an easy feat to tackle, I have to accept that. That is one thing that Army Wives taught me.

Nothing is certain. Everything is pretty much always up in the air, all the time. Sure, we have our routine for the time being, but even that's going to change soon. We have no idea when he will graduate, no clue as to when he will get his orders, and only God knows where we'll be this time next year. Everything can change at the drop of a hat, which for a wife, isn't always preferable, especially a pregnant one. I will say, however, they can be somewhat accommodating. To ensure that we stick around here long enough for our son to be born, we just have to fill out some paperwork. Now whether or not that actually ends up happening is completely up to them. But I have faith.

I totally get where the phrase "cuss like a sailor" comes from. I thought The Wolf of Wall Street  was bad. Jordan Belfort ain't got nothing on a base full of sailors. Even when we are home, my husband insists on talking to me like "one of the guys". I am seriously considering starting a swear jar. If he keeps it up, we'll have enough for Rowan's college fund by the time we leave here. Maybe a new car, too.

There really is a sense of community among the military. I am still working on immersing myself in the newness of it all; it takes social skill, which I lack. There are lots of resources for just spouses alone, and the family as a whole. I know my son will be taken care of when he is born. I have had a great experience at the naval hospital so far, which was a relief after hearing so many horror stories. You can just tell they take care of you, and for that I am grateful. Not to mention all the military discounts.

Whenever I watch a completely unrealistic movie like Godzilla and Battleship, ones where the Navy is especially prevalent,  I cry. Yes, I cried during Godzilla. Three times. Movies like this just showcase tragedy and great loss, something I am not equipped to handle at the moment, and they force me to face a subject I avoid at all costs: deployment. I know I have to talk about it sometime, preferably before he leaves, but the thought of him not being around is really hard to grasp. So many spouses go through it, and I never thought I would be one of them. The idea of essentially being a single parent isn't ideal to anyone. I know once the baby is born and we get a little more used to military life, I will probably feel a little better prepared to handle a deployment. But right now, especially because we are still separated so much of the time, I just want to be with him. All of the time. Sue me.

Every girl loves a man in uniform. Don't try to deny it. What's better than seeing a sexy sailor in his dress whites, looking all dapper and polished? Being able to bring him home and take it off of him.

Okay, maybe that was a bit too over the top. But, really, my husband looks so good in his uniform. Not that you would ever know, because he won't let me take pictures of him. Another rule (shocked face): no pictures of service members in uniform on social media. Do people always follow these rules? No. I see plenty of people on Facebook in their uniforms--most of the time, looking all thug-life or drinking a beer. You know, keeping it classy. I also see plenty of people on base holding hands, walking arm in arm, showing their love off to the world. It's really too bad that my husband is SUCH a good person and follows all the rules. 

I know we are just getting started on this adventure, and we will struggle and strive through the hard times that are sure to come, but I couldn't ask for a better sidekick to see me through it. I can't wait to learn more.

And I'll leave you with this. 

Those are palm trees right out my front door. You're welcome.