Tag Archives: marriage

Surprise! We’re Polygamists!

Last year on this day, I wished my husband a Happy 8th Anniversary.

Today I seek to do the same, only I’ve decided to unleash our skeletons from the closet and announce to all of you that we are Polygamists.

Yes.  You read that correctly.

No.  It is not another woman.  Or another man.

Nine years ago today, in a beautifully rustic stone forge built in 1757, in front of just twenty-two people and an Army Chaplain, I married the SGM and The Military.

Polygamy wasn’t previously on my radar.  I grew up Catholic, so it’s kind of a no-no.  But it was pretty clear that this was a packaged deal and I wasn’t getting the SGM without also making vows to The Military.

While the first several years of marriage tested SGM and me to our very core with deployments and unexpected parenthood and less-expected feeding tubes and heart surgery and autism, I don’t think The Military struggled with these life events as much as we did.

The Military did come with a dowry that sounded pretty great on paper.  Steady income, medical and dental benefits and life insurance.  Then there were the perks such as travel, military galas and ceremonies, and all the ibuprofen a girl could ever want or need.  In reality though, I am not the one who gets to travel and I can bet the SGM would pick better places to visit that do not involve terrorists.  Our Battalion doesn’t do galas, so I don’t get to dress up like a goddess once a year and get tipsy at an open bar.  Lastly, I pay for my ibuprofen out-of-pocket because I am a dependent not living near a Military Treatment Facility.

But I keep my vows to The Military despite the fraudulent dowry.  I don’t argue when SGM is called away to war.  I man the homefront when he is gone, whether for two days or two hundred.  I fix leaky faucets and take the air conditioners out of the windows in the fall and lug them up to the attic.  I bite my tongue on the telephone as much as possible so that he isn’t burdened by stressors at home such as I.E.P.s when his stressors at work are I.E.D.s.

Sometimes in polygamy, you are just the odd woman out.  After nine years, I am confident The Military has had a lot more say in how SGM spends his time but I am not jealous or resentful of The Military.  Remember, I signed up for this.

However, I do have a bone to pick with The Military on our anniversary today, and flowers and a card are not going to smooth things over this time.  I want OUR children to be better cared for whether one of them needs open-heart surgery or autism therapies.  Step up, The Military.  SGM and I have upheld our vows.  It is time for The Military to take a turn and uphold its vows to care for us in good times and bad and stop the segregation of medically necessary treatments for autism into ECHO where they are no longer available to us when SGM retires.  C’mon, The Military – Remove that arbitrary dollar cap on autism care that limits therapies to less than half of what is recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics, the National Academy of Sciences, and the Navy and Army Surgeons General.

I want to grow old with both my SGM and The Military.  I want our service and sacrifices throughout our marriage to mean something more than idle promises to care for one another.  I want The Military to continue to care for our children after retirement as it claims to do.  Because even if retirement was the equivalent to divorce, The Military would still owe child support.  It was all part of the agreement we entered into when we forged this relationship.

And really, SGM doesn’t get to pick and choose which of his children he cares for, why should The Military?

We’ve got some things to work out, The Military.  Like all marriages, there have been some major bumps on this ride but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  Let’s make this right for all of our kids, ok?

Happy Anniversary, SGM and The Military.

I love you both.


[One in eighty-eight military dependent children lives with autism and current military insurance does not provide adequate care.  Dependents of retirees, even those of Wounded Warriors, receive NO autism benefits.  Please show your support for HR2288 – Caring for Military Kids with Autism Act (CMKAA) at http://cmkaa.org.  There are three easy ways you can choose one-click support of this critical legislation.]



Hatching Our Plan


So much to do.

So little time.

Beyoncé’s Little Brother, Solange

Recently, I read a post by The Bloggess – And that’s why you should learn to pick your battles

It has obviously struck a chord with people – there are greeting cards available and a Facebook page dedicated to Beyoncé, the giant metal chicken.  And oh yeah, by the time I left a comment on the post, there were more than three-thousand already (mine is #3394).  Some were vicious, I cannot imagine why.  Maybe those folks have a heart two sizes too small or a mouth three sizes too big.                       

Regardless, the phenomenon of Beyoncé’s catch-phrase “Knock-knock, motherfucker” is hard to ignore.   Sculptures of chickens (YES, we get that they are really roosters) from the very small to the very tall are flying off the shelves at Home Goods stores everywhere.  They are disappearing from flea market tables and causing many close-calls on the back roads of America where local nurseries and antique stores dare display these items in sight of drivers.

It seems The Bloggess has unintentionally created a universal litmus test for the strength of marriage and perhaps even a whole new meaning to gift registry for anniversaries.  I even found a football forum online that discussed Beyoncé, the giant metal chicken at length.  

Some guy on the football forum risked his own manhood to leave this comment: 

“Y’all living with women–what are you fighting over towels for? I think that’s the most popular impulse item they like to buy–they’re relatively inexpensive, and an easy way to redesign a bath with colors. New towels ensure that they’re fresh and fuzzy and that gives your lady a thrill coming out of the bath….Let it happen! Embrace it! Plus–then you’ve got a constant supply of older towels for washing dogs and trucks, and mechanicing when they really hit the dirt. Ultimately it’s a wonderful way to keep good rags around.”

My point is this – either your husband will find the humor in this story or not.  Because let me tell you, it ain’t about the towels.  And it sure as hell isn’t about the money.  Some lessons are priceless.  Sometimes humor in a marriage is priceless.  

Sometimes humor amidst the everyday crap is really, truly invaluable. 

SGM loved this post by The Bloggess.  He totally gets it.  I am not so certain he would have found the humor in it six years ago or so.  But when you survive certain bumps in the road like 4q, two wars and a sprinkle of autism thrown in – you quickly learn what battles to pick.  And you learn that at the end of the day, if you’ve spent a few bucks on happiness – on something that will be a constant reminder of what really matters in life – it was worth every penny. 

SGM loves Beyoncé’s story even more because he has seen the laughter it has brought to so many of my fellow autism Warrior Mamas, too.  And THEIR spouses.

So with his blessing we will soon have a new houseguest.


3-foot tall metal chickens at PiperChase rusted garden


But Solange (pronounced so-LANZH) will not be staying for too long.  He will be making the rounds on a national tour of us Warrior Mamas’ homes.  Because not only should we all learn to pick our battles, but we should share the ammo, too.

Cheers, MoFo’s!


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