If God is watching us, the least we can do is be entertaining.

I told my friend that I was going to write in a blog, but I needed to do an introductory blog first. In that conversation, I said, “I don’t even know what to say. I'm not as full of myself as I like to pretend I am.” She said that would be a great opening line.

So, hello. My name is Emily, and I’m an Army wife. (Hi, Emily…) Before I introduce myself any further, I wanted to take a moment to thank the Army Wife Network for welcoming me to the team. A few weeks ago, a post was made by the AWN giving us wives (and dudes) an opportunity to contribute to this incredible blog. I threw my hat in the mix, not expecting much of it considering there are THOUSANDS of people who saw the same post. I submitted my sample blog, and, well, to my amazement, I was selected, as well as two other ladies whom you’ve already heard from. What a pleasant surprise! I found out at around midnight my time – we are currently stationed in Seoul, South Korea – so I had to do my happy dance all by myself in the bathroom. Don’t act like you’ve never done a happy dance in the bathroom before.

So, here’s a little background information on me, my family, and how we got here. Grab a cup of coffee or a margarita – whatever you have a taste for – and get comfy.

We’ll start in the beginning. Not the beginning-beginning, like, “One day, a man and a woman who really loved each other decided to show their love for each other…” but the beginning of my Army wife life. I moved to Florida in 2004, and I met my now-husband Tom. He was studying to be a pilot, and I was studying to be a court reporter. I can’t speak for Tom, but, for me, it was instant love. During the four years we dated, a variety of events occurred that could hardly be described in one blog. The turning point for me was, one day in 2007, we were at the dog park with our two dogs, who were our children at the time. We were living in Jacksonville, Florida, which is a big Navy town. Hey, hey, don’t start booing. I can hear you, you know. Anyway, at the dog park, we were talking about something inconsequential, and all of the sudden, he said, “I was talking to a P3 pilot about flying in the military.” He went on to say that he was thinking about joining the military. Saying I was taken aback by it would be the understatement of the year. Tom was a flight instructor, trying to build enough hours to fly an airliner. The only time the military came up was when he was talking about his family’s service. At the time, airliners were hiring pilots with so few hours, it was a hiring bonanza. They were hiring pilots with less than 500 hours, and in the flight community, that’s not a whole heck of a lot. If I were him, I would’ve been like, “Sign me up! When I do start?” My husband, the level headed, brilliant man he is, didn’t think it was a great idea, not to mention the airliner he wanted to fly didn’t take pilots with such few hours.

Then, the economy crashed, and I got pregnant.

All those pilots that were hired with a few hundred flight hours were fired. Tom could’ve easily been one of them, but he had the foresight to go a different direction. We agreed joining the military was the best route for a multitude of reasons, and he made his way to the recruiters’ office. We got married in September 2008. We had our beautiful little boy in December 2008. In July 2009, he was shipped off to Basic Combat Training and Officer Candidate School, one after the other. My son was six months old when he left, and when he came back, my son, Matthew, was just over a year old. Those six months were the longest, most challenging months of our relationship. The distance, the letter-writing, raising a child as a single mom, all of it hit really hard. I felt like we were practically strangers when we got to live together again. With all of that said and done, it was a hard-won fight, but we made it.

Our first duty station was Fort Rucker, Alabama, and we were there for nearly a year and a half. My husband trained on the UH-60 Blackhawk. If you’ve not gone through it, flight school… Well, to put it as plainly as possible, flight school sucked. I knew some spouses whose husbands went to flight school and have also deployed at some point. Those women said if they had to choose between the two, they’d choose deployment every time. How’s that for perspective?

In February 2011, we were slated to find out where we’d go when Tom was done with flight school. We were told he’d get one of his top three duty stations. Now, ladies and dudes, it’s the Army. A guarantee really isn’t a guarantee. It’s more of a “We’ll do what we can.” The mission always comes first. Our top three included Germany and two posts stateside. We got South Korea. South Korea, by the way, wasn’t even in the realm of possibility in my head. My husband, bless his heart, had to deal with me and my 10,000 questions. Every time I got an answer, 10,000 more questions were presented. That’s when I turned to the Army Wife Network. That’s where most of my answers came from. I got to a point where I could give HIM answers. Haha! How about that? If it weren’t for the kindness of spouses, like Dawn M. and Hannah R., who were in or leaving Korea and could give me some insight, I would’ve been completely in the dark, flailing my arms about, looking for a light switch.

The command sponsorship program in Korea is undergoing a major overhaul. At our Korea briefing, I was told the chances of getting command sponsorship were slim to none, so we probably shouldn’t bother applying for it and let him do the one-year tour and come back. I am of the feeling that my husband will deploy soon enough. If I have an opportunity to be with him, I am going to take it, no matter what. So, we applied anyway, and we left our home in Fort Rucker, Alabama, and headed to Washington, DC, in April 2011. I was told command sponsorship would take as little as three months and as much as a year, so I went to live with my in-laws in the interim. Tom drove us up, we unloaded the car, the second day we were there – exactly two weeks before Tom was slated to leave for Korea – we got a call; command sponsorship was approved WITH concurrent travel. I don’t know about you, but I nearly passed out. How many times do things happen way better than you anticipated in the Army?

Two domestic flights with my screaming two-year-old, a 9-hour layover in Seattle, and one long 14-hour flight later, we landed in Korea. We have been living in a hotel for two months. Holy moly. The hotel employees know us by name. Oh, and when I say “us,” I mean, my son Matthew’s name and me as Matthew’s mama. I told one of the ladies we see every day that we are finally moving out of here, and she practically had a coronary. Matthew made quite an impression here.

Here I am today. I’m a 26-year-old stay-at-home mama from the Bronx, living in Seoul, South Korea. (Who’da thunk it?) It is 2225 on Tuesday night. I spent the day with the most wonderfully incredible battle buddy anyone would be lucky to have, Shawna G. (I took the Seoul Metro for the first time by myself!) In my hour-long train ride, I got to read a book, enjoy the scenery, and explore on my way to Yangju. I will be posting about the goings on here in Korea, and I hope you stay tuned. There’s a lot more to come. (Jeez. Could this be any longer? Where's the music that plays when someone's Oscar speech is too long when you need it?)