I was interviewed today by a video producer for UPI for my hard work at being a male civilian spouse of a service member.  It was kind of refreshing and I was happy to participate.  I only wish, of course, that I was as articulate in interviews as I am inside my head.

She found me through Thomas in Newport or John in Norfolk.  That is how small a group we are:  I know the other male spouses by name.  The remaining 20,000 to 30,000 seem to be below the radar, although I occasionally meet others, lone satellites sailing through the darkness not to be seen again in my lifetime.  There was Ryan, a former co-worker married to an Air Force Captain.  William, married to a Navy doctor.  And The Volunteer Firefighter Who Sold Me a Christmas Tree And Said He Was A Navy Spouse.

Many of the questions were related to how I coped as a single parent during a deployment and whether or not I relied on support services available to military spouses.  Overall, I found the deployment to be more isolating than I anticipated and it made me realize, eight years into being a military spouse, that I needed to get more involved in the military spouse community.  Not for group therapy, but because there is so much to be said for talking with people who have a common understanding of what you are going through.

But I did not go to spouse group meetings.  In Washington DC, the Naval Officer’s Wives club meets monthly and in the middle of a workday which is not easily accessible to me.  Military wives have a long and proud tradition of supporting each other but even the clubs are not right for all people, male or female. 

I also suspect that, as in the civilian world, there is some tension between spouses who stay at home and those who are pursuing a career . . . if they can find employment at their new location.  On the other hand, I recently joined a Facebook page for Navy wives and was welcomed.

As for whether or not there are enough resources for male spouses, my impression is that there has not been much research done to know what the gaps may be.  I found all of the information I needed without it being written “for the guys” but undoubtedly there are some issues to address.  For one, the divorce rates of female service members married to civilians is double that of male service members married to civilians.  Aside from that, on behalf of all men I said that we could use some more beer.

There are also issues given that it is both relatively rare to be a male spouse who follows his wife’s career, and that career is in a very male-dominated field.  Male spouses are often the odd duck in both the civilian and military world. 

It is very common on base for people to assume that I am the “sponsor” (service member) and that my wife is the dependent.  I am saluted, she is not.  Recently a gate guard told me my identification was not valid because my wife’s information came up on the scanner as the sponsor.  This is trivial for me because, at worst, it impacts my trip to the commissary.  But it makes me wonder how my wife is treated as a woman in the military.  And am I, in the eyes of her peers, The Loser. 

I assume that many people do not know what to make of the situation so I become the novelty.  But in a culture where wives have played, and continue to play, the role of the Hostess or Ambassador (see the television show “Army Wives” on Lifetime) to their male husband’s command, you have to think that tradition sometimes clashes with today’s reality.

But when it comes to the Department of Defense family support programs, I think they get it.  They understand that families have changed and family needs must be met in order to recruit and retain the volunteer force. 

In many respects, I think it is the media more than the services that clings to the romantic images of the World War II sailor embracing his gal on the pier.  It is a sweet picture, but it is no longer the only picture.

You would think that all I do is bake cakes judging by the number of pictures here.  A colleague’s baby shower is tomorrow and so I was asked to do a cake.  I won’t even be there!

This one is supposed to look like a baby blanket but due to sleep issues — I need some — I had to simplify it a bit.  It is pretty anyway.  Ran into a few frosting problems but it is what it is.

My poor daughter sees all of these cakes being made but knows they are not for her.  She usually likes to watch me color the frosting, during which time she repeats over and over “This cake is not for us.  I can’t eat this cake.  This cake is for other people at your work.  For my birthday I had a cake.  Maybe you can make a little cake just for me to eat!”

We are getting better with the Halloween thing.  In the past couple of years our daughter was the avian flu and a ladybug.  Last year we tried as a family to be fried rice but our daughter refused to climb inside a modified pillow (rice).  So we knew this year that a big puffy Hello Kitty head was a gamble.

Still, she was the one who wanted Hello Kitty, before she wanted to be a princess.  Elysia bought some plush fabric and this is the great job she did.  I thought it would be cute if we all got dressed up as a family, but as a friend has pointed out, the actual sight of a grown man in a Hello Kitty head is a bit creepy.  It only helped a little when I shaved my 3-day beard. 

Still, we will probably venture out together for the costume parades.  I just won’t be wearing pink short-alls.  Just a trench-coat.

In the meantime, I still have a giant Kikkoman label from the costume attempt last year if you want to go as a bottle of soy sauce.  Just let me know and it is yours.

While in California it was my nephew’s third birthday.  He likes trains.  He likes cake.  So I made this for him.

Click on the photo for a larger version.

Years ago a neighbor’s apartment in Berkeley was burglarized and he came home to find the police investigating after a neighbor reported a broken window.  They told him that it appeared that his television was stolen but his stash of pot was okay.  

It is coming up on 20 years since I left Berkeley and while about 80 percent of the stores and restaurants are different, the city feels exactly the same way I left it.  The best produce is still at the Berkeley Bowl, the Tilden Park carousel is newly renovated, and the UC Berkeley police still shine blinding lights into your car if you pull over in the hills at night to see the view of the Bay.  It apparently remains as one of their top priorities.

But it would be wrong to suggest that nothing has changed, that Berkeley has not kept up with modern day trends.  At a local ”Spice of Life” festival on Sunday in Berkeley’s gourmet ghetto we were offered organic hash brownies.

We just returned from a short vacation in the Bay Area where we met up with my brother and his family, including my new 2-month-old nephew.  We managed to miss our flight to California, and on the way back I forgot something in the rental car and missed our return flight by two minutes.

As I watched the plane pull away with my wife and daughter, I thought how we were flying apart and if one plane went down there would be those who would see signs of divine intervention.  At least for whoever survived.  But we all survived, so I guess any higher power just wanted me to ride the Air Train back and forth several times.  Mysterious ways indeed.

Elysia came home today with twelve pirate ducks.  They were on sale.  Apparently when she was working in Bahrain, someone handed out these ducks to the folks working on piracy issues but she did not get any. 

There was a void, it needed to be filled.

I told her that it is a slippery slope.  A friend of mine from high school holds the 2007 Guinness World Record for the World’s Largest Rubber Duck Collection with 2,583 unique rubber ducks. 

I never saw the warning signs.

This morning Citrus and I drove to Fort Belvoir, an Army Post in Northern Virginia.  Sesame Street Workshop has been doing a tour of military installations across the country, bringing a live version of their Talk, Listen, Connect series to military kids.  The first DVD was about Elmo’s father being deployed and other videos have address “changes” when a parent is injured.

There were about 300 kids in the audience, nearly all age 2 to 4 years old.  When Elmo made his entrance crowd went wild.  They actually had guys acting as security guards at either end of the stage to make sure no one rushed up the steps.  I suppose if I were a more bold, adventuresome parent not afraid of the military police, I could have encouraged Citrus to throw some panties on the stage.  After all, we carry several pairs with us.

The show was great and the kids loved it.  Citrus was scared at first when the lights went down but was absolutely beaming when they started singing familiar songs that she had heard 1,000 times.  About deployment.  She knows most of the lyrics though she did not sing along.

When Elysia returned from her relatively short deployment, Citrus was two years old.  She did not have a hard time adjusting to Mommy being back home.  A friend of ours, however, had an entirely different experience.  Her son, the same age, was very angry at her and, when kissed, wiped the kisses off and threw them to the ground.  He told her “I love Daddy lots, I love you ONE.”  Heartbreaking!  Thankfully he moved on past that anger.  I imagine that every deployment is different depending on the child and their age.

I have not been posting much this week because my mom was in town.  Most days were centered around Citrus, although we did try to get out and about.

On Thursday we did a Friends and Family tour of the Pentagon. I am not sure exactly how it is different from the public tour, other than you get to see the dungeon.

We also went to Cunningham Falls State Park in Maryland for a short hike to “The Largest Cascading Falls In Maryland!”.  Someone forgot to turn the water on; it was a trickle.  But Citrus had a good time by the lake.  While the other kids were building sand castles, fortresses and mountains, she requested that Mommy build the U.S. Capitol Building, with windows.