Last week Cary called me at work to tell me he got accepted to OCS (officer candidate school). This is what we've been waiting for.
By waiting, I mean having mixed feelings about, worrying about, stressing about, wanting more than anything, hating more than anything, and then stir in some anxiety, obsession, limbo, up in the air-ness, money concerns, and taking it out on each other. Fun. But I'm realizing it's oh so worth it. That's life, right? It's tough, challenging, rewarding, offers success with risk, and full of up in the air-ness no matter what you choose to do. And it's our choice thankfully. And then it's purely someone else's will. Not our problem anymore. Period. Everything else can just be quiet.
As the Navy's marketing boasts, Accelerate Your Life. And as Cary informs me, this will accelerate our life.
The upsides are seeing your spouse follow a dream (more important than anything, excuse the mush), travelling, job security, benefits, patriotism. The downsides are a little less control over where you live (Who the heck can decide this anyway? Well, not us), losing him for deployments (I'll just go back to being single Aly for a bit, a better woman when he returns, more independent, more excited to see each other and able to relish everything that much more), and maybe putting our kids through a little hell (but being strong, make friends with ease, see the world; there's something to say about that). Period.
The branch is the Navy, the position, a pilot's spot. He'll go through 12 weeks of a so-called boot camp with 59 other officer candidates, starting March 7, flying out March 6 on the military's dime. On average, 10% of the class graduate without having to stay on retake an examination or physical test. It's not knife and fork school, but it's not SEAL training either. They 'go dark' the first week with no contact with the outside world. Then they begin to earn privileges like phone and Internet time, leaving the base, getting their clothes back--you know, the usual necessities. So be rooting for him in Newport, Rhode Island, pretty please with a cherry on top. He might be jogging marathons in freezing weather. Or he might have to stand up to Jack Nicholson. And making it to graduation (commissioning) hitch-free only increases his chances for jetdom.
After those three months of OCS, he'll return home and work part time as a physical therapist and for his recruiter at the March Air Reserve Base. At this point, the waiting will resume. The next step is to get a flight school date. Flight school is about a year and a half in Pensacola, Florida. Depending on how well he does there (in combination with his OCS performance)--and depending on what type of pilot's are needed and where, and what the lifestyle is like--he'll continue on to get specialty training for the aircraft presented and chosen. Fighter jets, helicopters, a specific type of each one of those, cargo, refueling. But as long as he's up in the air, he'll be happy.
Once the aircraft is figured out, he'll go for another six months or so to where that training is offered. Then it's unit time. Command time. Stationed at a base time. This is where the 'where' really matters because it'll be home base for the wife. Where I would write, run, and travel around with a little one perhaps. Japan would rock my world. I mean who doesn't want tea in the morning, sushi and sake at lunch, and karaoke at night? Who wouldn't feel peaceful and grateful and fine on their own with cherry blossoms floating around on your way to visit little villages with bridges everywhere. Getting lost in translation might be a tough one though? Japanese lessons? Increase my value as a marketer? There'a lot of places we can picture ourselves, and this blog would get a boost in intrigue.
So yeah, enough about Cary on a blog that's all about me, right? Well at least things related to me like my inspirations, recommendations, friends, and adventures. The key is this might be a good spot for you to stay up on Alydom, a bit of the military, and me to vent like an AC. (The Follow button is on the top of this page fyi.)
Oh, and as a disqualifier, the terms here may or may not be used correctly but to the best of my knowledge--so that you'll know what I'm talking about when I see you in person and start using military terminology because I'm forced to myself.
The husband swears in Tuesday at March.