Normal, anyone?

A few days ago, Joe found out that if he were to get out of the military, it would be after the 10 year mark. If you are military or know someone who is, you understand how crucial a point that is when deciding what to do with the the next 10 years. It's the halfway point to a life-long retirement check, or the point at which you say "abandon ship!" and get out before it sucks you in forever. When he came home and told me about this my thoughts cringed at what I knew he was going to suggest. Just a few weeks ago we were both dead set on getting out. "What's the difference of 9 years and 10 months, to 10 years and 2 months?" I asked. Well, apparently there's a lot more going on in the psyche when the number '10' creeps it's way into the equation. "A lot." he said. "It's all single digit numbers down till you get out." Yep. I was right. Honestly, I sank into a little pit of defeat. I hate patrols. I hate moving. I hate the uncertainty of the future. Will we be here in 5 years? Who knows! All of that can make a person very nervous. OK, makes me nervous. When I am without a plan for the next hour or the next 20 years, I get very uneasy. I need direction on a constant basis. We debated for several hours over the pros and cons of either side. I finally said, "I want a normal life, not a military life." Joe retorted with, "What is normal?" I was pretty quick to answer but he shot back saying, "who do you know that has a 'normal' life?" I honestly could not answer. The days of dad works a 9-5 while mom stays home with the 2.5 kids, with the picket fence enclosing this perfect American dream home, are gone. The only people I could think of with this arrangement were my Grandparents. In the world of now, I'm lucky that I am able to choose to stay home. Well, he had me at that question. "Normal" is in the eye of the beholder. In the end, I believe he'll be re-enlisting in October, and while it saddens me, logically I know it's the best thing for us.