by Mollie Gross
My birthday arrived after Jon deployed. Natalie, who knew how much I loved Pygmalion, had his photo scanned and put on my birthday cake. It was the best surprise.
The wife of Jon’s CO asked me to explain the story behind the pony on the cake. When I explained, she thought it was a hoot.
When her husband called from Iraq, she told him about the birthday party. Then she told him all about the pony on the cake and the fact Jon wouldn’t let me have a pony. Unfortunately, the conversation got a bit mixed up.
“Karen, I am staying out of this. If a wife got a pony for her birthday and it is going to upset her husband, I am staying out of it,” he said. “I need my men to stay focused right now.”
Then the phone cut out.
She called to warn me that her husband was going to say something to Jon about my pony.
I acted quickly. I was sure Jon thought I had a tiny pony in the house—shoes and all. I e-mailed him a picture of the cake telling him, “Look, the ladies got me my pony!”
I was hoping he would see the cake and put two and two together.
Jon called to ask about my birthday party. Thankfully, the CO had not said anything to him.
Chapter Five
PRE-DEPLOYMENT
Pre-deployment leave is the time to tie up loose ends, as well as to emotionally and physically prepare for the long separation.
In the military, you sometimes get that call that your husband is going on an unscheduled six- or seven-month deployment, which means you have no time to prepare.
Since my husband was in the infantry, we knew that war or no war, he would leave for two six-month deployments in a four-year block.
The military schedules so much intensive training up to that point that you feel as though he’s already been deployed since he is gone so much.
It feels like a roller-coaster ride. He’s home one week and gone for two weeks. These “work ups” go on for six months. After that, the military gives you a little leave.
This is the only time you know for certain that no one will have to stand duty or go on a weekend hump. It’s a time when you’re finally free to go about your business and relax.
HA! HA! How can you relax knowing your husband will be gone for seven months? What an oxymoron!
Not only that, but many families have the added level of stress of the extended family’s desire to say, “Goodbye” to the service man before he deploys.
This is totally understandable. However, a military family needs to be preparing its own family, including children, emotionally as well as physically for the absence. Instead, military families often end up taking a huge family vacation or hosting a huge family reunion.
Who does all the planning, partying, and packing? That’s right, the military wife. What joy! All you want to do is have some quiet time with dad and the kids and maybe fit in a romantic date or two.
Then the doorbell rings and there stand the in-laws, grandma, and the extended family. They’re anxious to visit, while you end up playing hostess instead of spending time alone with your sweetheart.
The other problem is you end up feeling guilty for resenting them and selfish for feeling that way. You know what? You’re normal. Your feelings are justified.
I couldn’t understand how some extended family could go for months, or even years, without visiting. But the second the service person is scheduled for deployment, they schedule a visit during the week before he leaves.
It’s important to keep in mind you are the matriarch of the house. And, as such, you must set the boundaries.
The extended family is important, so you should make time for them—but not the week before he leaves. I would go as far as avoiding visits from extended family during the pre-deployment leave.
Everyone needs to recognize that your family’s day-to-day life is about to change. The extended family should be alerted to this fact. It’s up to you and your husband to gently and mutually set boundaries for pre-deployment calls and visits from outsiders.
If you can’t manage this, I can promise that one of you (the wife) will be blamed for “keeping him away from the family.”
Pre-deployment leave is meant for the service member. Don’t burden him with guilt by forcing visits with family and friends as well as making time for you.
Make it easy on everyone by setting boundaries and sticking to them. This is the time for last minute trips to the orthodontist or to get the car’s tires changed, as well as to go on family outings without outside interruptions and distractions.
Do those errands that are easier to do when hubby is home. If you do not take the time for them during pre-deployment leave, you will be upset you have to do it when he is gone.
My advice is simple. Plan a family gathering a few months before the deployment so everyone gets their time.
SECOND MARRIAGE
For our pre-deployment leave, Jon and I had a little matter to address before he went off to war. We needed to get married. I know, you’re thinking we eloped.
Yes, we did, and so we didn’t have a traditional church wedding. And some people had made me feel guilty about eloping with Jon.
It’s quite common for military families to elope, then have a formal wedding. As I got to know other military wives, I realized I had nothing to be ashamed of. If other people had a problem with our decision to elope, then it was their problem.
While Jon and I had considered ourselves husband and wife from the second we said “I do,” we faced a new dilemma. Jon had been raised Catholic, but I had been raised Methodist. Being married in the Catholic Church was important to Jon and his family.
Both of us are Christians and our faith is very important to us both. We consider spirituality a huge part of our relationship. Our faith holds us together.
Still, I realized that being married in a church was important to Jon and his family. And that’s why we planned to have a church wedding before he deployed.
SIGN HERE
Even though we were already married, the Catholic Church required us to participate in premarital counseling.
My girlfriend Erin, who was converting to Catholicism, had already gone through the counseling program in preparation for her marriage to Mike. She called to warn me about an agreement the priest had asked her to sign.
Apparently, the paper spelled out various martial agreements. Erin said she didn’t read through them thoroughly—just quickly went down the list and initialed each one.
When she went back later and read them, Erin freaked. She said some of the agreements were harmless, like saying she would accept children graciously from God and would raise them Catholic. But another stated she would “give herself to her husband physically in marital relations whenever he desired!”
She could not believe what she had signed.
Now her husband was carrying the agreement around in his pocket so he could torment her with the fact that she had agreed to be submissive sexually! Every chance he got, he teased her mercilessly.
It was hysterical, but I knew I would not sign anything like that.
When we got to the classes, I think my priest quickly realized he better not ask me to sign that statement. He probably figured it was pointless since Jon and I were already married.
Regardless, I carefully read over the paperwork before signing it. Thankfully, that statement had been omitted.
MY SECOND WEDDING
We finished up counseling and decided to marry at the beautiful Ranch House Chapel on Camp Pendleton.
After nine months of living as husband and wife, we got married again, but this time we did it with class and sophistication. The priest was sober. Nor was there a line of folks in matching sweat suits waiting in line to get married.
I will admit it felt silly to be going through this ceremony since everyone knew we were already married. Still, it was great to have my new military family watch as Jon and I affirmed our love for each other.
I don’t remember the date of our second wedding bec
ause Jon and I prefer to celebrate our “real” wedding (the elopement). Still, our church wedding was magical and we have the pictures to prove it.
All of Jon’s friends from training and his battalion were dressed in full uniform. All of my wonderful new military girlfriends joined us as well. I had my two matrons of honor—my very best girlfriends, Erin and Beenie—who had a huge responsibility. They were supposed to be on nipple watch. But they both failed, miserably.
PEEK-A-BOO
Before Jon and I moved to California, Erin and I had gone shopping for a wedding gown at a store near her hometown in South Carolina.
I wanted the dress so my mother-in-law would know we had every intention of getting married in the church when the military gave us time to do so. It was my way of reassuring her.
Anyway, I fell in love with this strapless dress. I knew I looked adorable in it—like an upside down teacup. And it was ivory because … Well … I obviously could not wear white.
But there was another matter to consider. I am five feet tall and weigh about 110 pounds, and thirty pounds of that belongs to my boobs. And yes, they are real. My mom believes they came from the hormones in milk. I certainly didn’t get them from her.
The problem is they make me top heavy. They also present a problem when I’m going down stairs. Picture a Slinky.
Needless to say, when your legs are as long as your boobs stick out, you’re facing a challenge to find clothes that fit.
Anyway, this dress was a perfect style for me, but it was eight sizes too big. I decided to try it on just to see if it would look good with my skin tone. Erin was on the other side of the store looking at shoes or veils or something when I saw my reflection in the mirror.
I started screaming and running through the store looking for her. I have to admit I caused quite a commotion.
Erin remembers it happening in slow motion, complete with the theme from “Chariots of Fire” playing in the background.
As I was running toward her, I stepped on the three yards of material that was too long. It snapped me forward like the metal on a mousetrap. My head flipped forward. With my momentum propelling me forward and my foot on the fabric, I pulled the dress down in front. Did I mention it was strapless?
I fell flat on my face and then rolled over on my back. My bosoms were released, exposing my nipples. As I lay on the ground topless, I told Erin, “This is the one. Doesn’t it look great?”
I had no idea my “girls” were playing Peek-A-Boo.
You’d think that my embarrassment would have been tempered by the fact that there were only women shoppers in the store. But some hussy had brought her boyfriend–fiancé with her, and he had witnessed the entire scene.
According to Erin, this guy just stared at my milk white breasts while his girlfriend pitched a fit. I may have caused their break-up.
I ordered the dress in the correct size, but I think my nips remembered that incident. After that, it seems that every time I put the dress on, my boobies tried to poke out and say “good day!”
I realized this in the fitting room and again at my house while I was posing for photos with Erin and Beenie before the wedding. It was at this point that I asked them to watch my “girls” and keep them in their place.
My photographer, who did an amazing job of capturing that day, assured me she could touch up anything out of place in a photo. I took comfort in knowing that for a small fee she could eliminate pimples, make sure eyes were open, and even move someone around.
Once I saw the initial set of photos, I was overwhelmed by the loveliness she had captured. I called the photographer to order a few photos and asked, “You said it was $20 to remove pimples, but I need a quote on the cost to remove nipples.”
We laughed and laughed at the fact that in about five different shots one of my “girls” was poking out trying to get a bit of sunshine.
I laugh every time I look at the photos. No wonder the priest avoided talking to me during the reception.
SWORD FIGHTS
I am here to tell you, the sword swat you get on the butt as you walk through the sword arch is painful!
The stories of women padding their bottoms before going under the arch are no joke! I wish I had. My bottom was stinging for about an hour after I got whacked. No one would tell me which of Jon’s friends did the smacking, either. I had to wait until the photos were developed to find out.
If you’re having a military ceremony, buy those panties with the padded butt. You’re gonna need ‘em!
Top: Grandma Ruby took this picture of me at age 2 about 10 seconds before I got a spanking. I locked myself in her bathroom and refused to let her in to “wipe me.” Clearly I did not have the situation under contrl. She must have heard the commotion from outside the door, and got the camera. As you can see, the toilet paper was everywhere but on my bottom! Above: Hanging out with my favorite cousin Kevin at age 4.
Jon and I went out to 5 points in Columbia, SC for Halloween when we were dating. He’s the goofy Marine with the BCGs and I am the hooker who is refusing service. Sorry Marine, those BCGs (birth control glasses) are a total turn off!
I didn’t find out who whacked my bottom with his sword at the end of the sword arch until the photos were developed. I thought it was Carl, but the evidence pointed the finger at LLOYD!
Jon was shocked to see what he found hiding up under my dress when he went in for the garter! My wedding night surprise was ruined!
Below: Jon and I at our church wedding, “renewing of the vows” October 2002. The Ranch House Chapel, Camp Pendleton
Erin and me fighting over the first dance with JJ at my church wedding. Who can resist “Kid Dynamite!”?
Michelle, me, and Beenie (left to right) during one of the “Mommy and me playgroups.” The guys are gone so Michelle is copping a feel.
Beenie and me at the secret beach. When your BFF becomes your "spouse" during a deployment … sometimes you can get into some misunderstandings. Watch out Paris and Nicole!
Above: Us wives at the 80s-themed roller skating birthday party. Oh no, where is David the Menace? And do I really look 15? Top, left to right: Melissa, Julian, Natalie, Lauren, Autumn, Dawn, Beenie, Grace. Bottom, left to right: Nick, Michelle, Jacob, me, Alek, Kianna, and Karen.
Below: My dad, Erin, and Mom visiting the weekend of my church wedding. The east coasters are freaking out over the chilly Pacific Ocean! I am freaking out over my mom and dad wearing their sweatshirts like that!
Jon and I out in front at grandma’s doing some paparazzi poses before attending the Marine Corps Birthday Ball. Dad was there taking pictures, mom and grandma were fussing over my hair, make-up, and girdle.
Sorry for the fuzzy picture, but I love this one. Jon and I enjoying a rare trip to Del Mar Beach. Camp Pendleton the summer before he deployed. We are newlyweds here. We would not spend a summer together for another 3 years.
Grandma Ruby and I at Christmas 2003 between Jon’s deployments.
Top: This is the kind of goofy picture I would mail to Jon to make him laugh while he was deployed. Tipple and I are having a little dress up mother–daughter time. No wonder this cat hates us.
Grace and I, two Aries girls.
Top: My favorite photo of my neighbors, David and Jacob. Michelle had them in desert cammies for a photo shoot when daddy was deployed. Above: The infamous go-cart, with the more infamous JJ the yard boy.
Above: My KVC and great friend Karen took this photo of Jon and I when we first saw each other after his second deployment.
Inset: Imagine my shock when I developed this role of film mailed to me by Jon from Iraq. Jon and all his 2/1 buddies had grown the “moleste-ache.” Although resepected by the local Iraqis, women back in America hid their children and did a check online for registered sex offenders.
Lloyd and Jon in Kuwait in the staging area just before the war began. Beenie and I were going through birth coaching class when this role of film reached us. Our men were about to go to war! This picture ma
de us both very emotional. And Llyod had to ruin this perfect photo by growing a molest-ache!
Jon and I at the birthday ball. I was so gassy I could not hold it in. My girdle was too tight, and I am trying to cover my HUGE “gas baby” with my hands. I could not wait to go home, strip, and let out a big toot of relief!
I have been told that on stage I am quite animated. I never fully “get it” until photos are developed. Then I invariably turn to Jon and say, “I looked like that!?” Here I am in Beaufort, South Carolina, performing “Mollie Gross, Military Wife Comedy.”
But, that was just the beginning of my sword problems.
Before we cut the cake, I gave a speech to our guests. I spoke about our love for our birth families as well as our love for the military family with us that day. And I talked about the deployment we were facing.
Let’s just say this. I have a degree in speech. By the time I was done, we were all crying. The mood became intense and powerful, so in an effort to lighten the mood, I yelled, “Let’s just eat some cake!”
Jon used his military issue sword to cut the cake. He gently fed me a tiny bite and I did the same in return. As I was nibbling on the cake, I saw Jon starting to scheme.
NOT GOOD.
He was looking at his sword, which is now covered with chocolate icing. (Yes, I had chocolate frosting on my wedding cake!) I could see him thinking, “Gee, what do I do about this?”
To my shock, he opened his mouth, stuck the sword in, and closed his lips over it like you would with a spoon dipped in cake batter. Then he pulls the sword right out between his lips.