Mom. Wife. Military Life.

Well, here we are. The start of August in Australia. It has been cold and dreary here for the past couple of days, but before that, it was absolutely beautiful, sweatshirt-leggings-sunglasses kind of weather. We have been here for almost a month and we are…adjusting.

We have moved into our beautiful home. It was an interesting process, but all of the hours spent on realtor sites before moving here paid off. The house came furnished, and for being as picky as I am, I actually love the furniture and decor. It’s clean, simple, and coastal. We have managed to swing into little shops to find things to stuff in our shelves that bring us joy. Local art, ocean figurines, anything to make a house that is filled with other people’s things feel like ours.

It’s funny going from a homeowner to a renter again. J and I were sitting and talking the other night about living situations. Where we had been, where we are, and where we will be. We had always lived in military housing, which we loved. When we built our Oklahoma house, it was the first time a move felt truly sentimental. It ended up being a house that we knew from the start we would never stay in forever, due to size, and well, the military. BUT, while we were in it we ended up getting very comfy. So comfy in fact that when we moved to Alabama, it felt like we were losing a part of ourselves. We had some of our dearest friends in that neighborhood. It was weekend get-togethers, football watching, birthday parties, I don’t feel like cooking so I’m coming to your house with a bottle of wine and we are DoorDash-ing dinner tonight kinda vibes. To have a life like that and then move is hard.

What people don’t tell you about this lifestyle is that every place you go to is a dating-like scenario. You first get somewhere, love-drunk with the newness, and then real life starts to kick in and you realize this is no longer rose colored glasses, it’s real life. Then you start feeling guilty because everyone you love around you (all with good intentions), see your home as a long-week or vacation destination, not the intricacies of what real life brings. I say this for everywhere we live, not just here. You can tell when people are truly invested, as your visitors’ roster changes, it’s actually quite funny. Most military families can attest and laugh at that with full understanding.

When I share the beautiful things in our life, I don’t only share them to brag. I share them because I am trying to convince myself that I love it too. What you don’t see, and what I don’t like to share, is that I can live on the most beautiful beach, in the most perfect house, but when you don’t have people you love to fill it… It’s lonely. I share pictures to bring along the people I love the most with me, because here, unlike anywhere else we have ever lived, we have not a single piece of America.

When we moved to Japan, it was incredibly overwhelming. The ages of the kids. Living in a country you don’t speak the language. A husband that was gone, ALL OF THE TIME. However, when we were overstimulated and done, we had our little bubble of base to pop back into where we could enjoy the local Chili’s, BX, Commissary, schools, doctors, coffee shops, etc., that provide the comforts of home.

We don’t have that here.

We don’t have a base to lean into. We don’t have a tight-knit community to lean on. This move is the first time we have moved where I felt like we were truly doing it alone. A fear of mine after coming from Alabama was the loneliness. For many people, the year in AL is a great experience. It was not for me. We were leaving somewhere we loved, to go somewhere else for 10 months, knowing we had a massive international move on the other side. Marry that with the fact we lived out in a small town, there wasn’t a lot of room for new. I am social. I love to grab a cocktail with my girlfriends, date night with my husband, fun day trips with the kids. It just wasn’t that for us for that year. So before we left, J and I talked and promised to create that community when we got here to Australia.

I hope it happens. I do. Right now, I’m still just exhausted. The overstimulation when moving internationally is something I think gets missed. Driving on the wrong side of the road, with new traffic laws. Finding a grocery store. Shopping in grocery stores with new everything (the food standards are incredibly high here, so when I say everything is new, I mean EVERYTHING). You go to a restaurant and pray your credit card works. You get nervous about ordering. Parking… yes, parking. There are places where you can only back into spots. We pulled into one, and you would have thought the world stopped. The second you open your mouth, you are different; your accent gives it away. Having winter in the months that for a whole lifetime have always been summer. Having summer in the –ber months that are supposed to be filled with excitement and pumpkin scented things, not sunscreen. And before you go on thinking and judging, please truly step back and think about missing all of these things. I can be grateful for this opportunity here and adjusting, but also mourn some of my favorite times of the year. With that being said, be a good friend and go get a big Starbucks coffee for me and go stroll the aisles of T.J. Maxx after the first day of school drop off, okay?!

These are just a couple, but I hope it shows a tiny piece of the things you don’t think about that become things you do. We come home from leaving the house tired.

Now, we are still new here. The hard things WILL become normal. There will be people we meet that I know will change our lives and our experience here. I am certain of it. Our home with other people’s stuff will one day become a home that is our stuff for now. If I have to be a little scared and alone for a bit, at least I can share it with the sting rays and dolphins down at the beach. We may not have a Starbucks (shhh, don’t judge me), but cafe coffee may be what my soul ordered. In fact, tonight Jason and I are going on a date to a Fleetwood Mac cover band down at our local bar. Maybe we meet some new friends, or maybe we just vibe and enjoy being the latest locals in our little beach town.

I don’t care what anyone says, change is not easy. It is not impossible, but certainly not easy. J and I looked at each other and asked, in retrospect, would we choose to do this again. I won’t share his answer, but just trust me that it was wonderful. But mine was this: “When an international move gets presented, it’s like someone is trying to hand you the most beautiful pair of Christian Louboutins. They are breathtaking. Have I ever owned a pair? No. Do I want to? Yes, look at them. But then you get them and forget, I don’t know how to walk in 120mm So Kate heels. So you stumble at first, you get blisters, you actually might hate them. The world looks at your feet and thinks how beautiful they are without knowing how bad they may be hurting you. But one day you put them on and they don’t hurt as bad, you don’t stumble as much, and then it happens. You put them on, and it’s routine. You have cracked the code. Now, not only do you not stumble, you glide”. Jason nodded at this. I don’t know if a man could understand the art of Christian Louboutins, but my ladies, you will get it.

If you are wondering, I am in the stumble-blister phase, but I am a seasoned enough spouse to know that I WILL get to the gliding phase. Resilient or stubborn, I don’t know which one more, but one of the two. Depends on the minute of the day.

I have my pod. We still have things we are sorting out, but we are loved. We are safe. We are optimistic. We have done hard things before and have made it to where we are now, which means we will do it again. Send us some prayers and love. Growing pains can hurt. The Bonds are strong, and we are excited for this new chapter to start settling into some sort of enjoyable monotony again.