Where are my ladies in waiting?

I have come to the conclusion that I was born in the wrong century. Don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t trade modern conviences such as water and electricity for “all the tea in China,” but it would be nice to go back to a simpler time. Lately, things have been stressful and i have found myself “getting away from it all” by stitching, reading about the Victoria era or “playing” with my tea collection (as in rearranging, not the tea with a teddy bear way!)

When we were vacationing this past week my husband commented that I enjoy “old lady hobbies.” Not in a mean way, but we were talking about my lack of “close” friends. I told him that I missed having a close friend who I could rely on and talk openly with about stuff without feeling like I would be judged. Now it’s just hard. My “civilian” friends don’t really want to hear about my thoughts about military life or they just don’t understand it and end up asking a bunch of questions. As an officer’s wife I always hold back on my true feelings with other spouses because I am expected (real or percieved) to be strong and an example to the others. I never get to be the one to fall apart.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my life and the military is a large part of it, but even if you want children sometimes you want to strangle the little buggers. I made this choice and I never regretted it. For me, I feel like my life has a purpose, it’s something worth doing no matter how hard it is. When I wake up alone because my husband is on another training mission, I know it’s so other families out there won’t have to face the lose of their Soldier because they weren’t properly trained. When he is at work late catching up on things, I know it because he wants to send his Soldiers home to spend what precious time they have with their spouse and children. When he is deployed, I know it’s because he is trying to give others the freedom that so many in America take for granted. It’s worth the sacrifice and worry.

In the military you learn that friends will come and go – physically not the friendships themselves. Moving is part of the nomad life we chose and for the most part it is great for George and I. There is always another adventure around the bend, and no matter how bad a duty station is, if you stick it out for a while, you’ll move somewhere else. Sometimes I just wish I could clone myself so that I would have someone interested in the same stuff as me.

None of my friends here understand neewdlework (although I am so thankful for those of you online who get me in this regards – you guys keep me inspired.) No one really gets interested by stories and history (or furniture!) of the Victorian era and for most my tea cup collection is regarded with the same smiles you give a 5-year-old offering you imaginary cookies and tea.

I think the problem is that at my age (a proud 29-years-old) that all of my friends have children and other obligations and I am still running around being spoiled by my husband and shopping without a care (o.k. I care when he finds the reciepts and it’s not for groceries!) I think I am too much of a princess at times. Don’t get me wrong, the tiara slips off when I have to work or sit in an 8-hour class for my master’s but other than that, I have few worries.

I have worked hard to get where I am, my grandmother always told me that it would pay off in the end, I just thought I’d have friends to share it with. Instead I just share in their interests and play with their children, then come home and revel in my joys alone. My friends are always telling me I should start having children ... maybe I should, then I could force them to enjoy my hobbies ... it’s worth looking into!