People. So much has been going on, it’s unreal.
Actually, not true. It’s pretty real. Let’s dive in:
1. Potty training.
Oh yes, it’s that time of life again. J-man has been making the signs to start and, most surprisingly, my husband was the one who initiated the let’s-go-nakey-bum conversation. Surprisingly, because he repeatedly told me he was scarred for life after the 18-month (you read that right) adventures in pee and poo our dear daughter subjected us to back when I thought potty training during the pandemic while we were all stuck at home would be a really good idea. Let’s just say that experience gave us perspective. And patience. And an ability to relax about the whole thing because, honestly, it’ll come. Though, kudos to the (not so) little man: warm weather + half term break + appropriate age = potty training, even though we failed to consider the fact that he’s been sick the past week (teething molars?) and has had loose stool, to put it politely, and he STILL managed to score 3 of 3 Number Twos on the toilet. I won’t even count the dribbles as misses. (Yes, this was an entire paragraph dedicated to bodily functions. This is what parenting is all about.)
2. DIY.
The house projects continue in force, even though the money’s getting tight and we’re looking at creative ways to get more dough (read: sell some of my rainy day investments when it’s obvious that rainy day is now). There’s a whole bunch of ankle-biters to tackle, including a hell of a lot of (re)organization, keep-or-throw decisions, and donations. I’ve got painting on my radar (an old wheelbarrow for flowers, the downstairs bathroom, the kitchen, all the bedrooms), plus repointing an old stone wall in the utility room so we can put up storage and stop living in a state of semi-done repairs. Bigger jobs include replacing doors, repairing wooden windows, and fixing the gutters. Garden jobs have been ongoing, including trying to finish the last bit of the retaining wall near the stream (my reading nook will be right down near the water!), planting a modest vegetable garden (the pumpkin plant is already toast – probably pigeons), and tackling the ever-present scourge of weeds. The summerhouse needs a few things, namely the plumbing to be finished so we can have a toilet, sink, and shower, and the ceiling needs to be plastered so we can properly finish the whole thing. Our conservatory should (*should*) be arriving this summer and we’re hoping sooner rather than later. We need to take the render off the house where it’ll go, move the gas bottles/connection, and finish the concrete floor. And, oh yeah, if we have any spare time, we’re trying to hack back the weeds, ivy, and undergrowth on the other side of the stream so we can put up a trampoline in time for a little person’s birthday in August. Not busy at all.
3. My book.
It still feels weird to say or write, “my book.” I mean, I’ve got the contract, I’ve been paid the first part of my advance, I’m working with a book cover designer, I’ve had two mentoring sessions by female military writers, I attended a multi-day literary festival in Bournemouth recently, and I’m part of the Society of Authors in the UK, but I still feel imposter syndrome. I know this is normal. I know this is a sign of a perfectionist (“When will I make it or be good enough?”) and I know I’ve struggled with this my whole life, but I do really think there is something about having a full-length book published that casts all doubt aside. It’s hard to argue that you aren’t an author when you’re holding a book in your hands with your name on it. However, I realized last month that a July deadline was just… unrealistic. Not a SMART goal. And so I changed it. And the publisher said, Sure. And now I’ve got more time to write, review, edit, and marinate. I’d still like to get a first draft done before the school holidays, mostly so I can have beta readers weigh in, especially in terms of structure and narrative arc, but I’m confident my timeline is more achievable. This is all part of the process.
4. And finally, the news you didn’t know you were waiting for, my promotion.
You heard right: I’ve been selected for promotion to Lieutenant Colonel in the Reserves. To put it bluntly, it’s fucking crazy. I never really thought I’d stay in this long, or, if I did, make O-5. It just seems so… old. I have peers who are commanding officers of squadrons. I’ve got a Navy flight school friend who is the Executive Officer of an entire training air wing. My old CO and mentor is a one-star general. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Marines were looking up to me now as a senior leader. It’s all a bit much. And thrilling. New doors are open to me, including command and top-level school, and I’m going to do my utmost to navigate what may be the last few years of my career as best as I can. My philosophy, even from my NROTC days, has been to set myself up for the next step even if I decide later not to walk down that path. What I have tried to avoid is having something external – a person, event, or situation – dictate my future. It’s hard to be the master of your own destiny in the military, but, looking back, I’ve succeeded pretty well. And I still believe in the idea that it is better to volunteer for a mediocre billet than be voluntold to do a really shitty one. Bonus points if you can volunteer for something you really want and enjoy. Doubly so if you can make your own billet to serve that end. I’ve been lucky in the Reserves.
So, there you go. Too many balls in the air, too much money going out, too much poo to deal with, and not enough time to do it all, but that’s life. I’m massively looking forward to this summer, being done with nappies (diapers to you Yanks), and, if I’m luckly, a promotion before I turn 40.
Stay sassy.
Captain Leatherneck 