When last we spoke, I left you with a promise: a photo essay of our neighborhood in Okinawa. I spent months preparing. I took hundreds of photos. We literally did laps around our neighborhood, poking our heads into forgotten corners, trying to wring every ounce of interesting from the coral-crete crevices. All that said, there will be no such blog. Kind of alot has happened since then.
After a whirlwind tour through the South East, my family and I have established ourselves in a cozy little neighborhood about an hour north of San Diego. Several of our friends moved from Oki about the same time as us, and have moved in down the street. Another bonus to our location is its proximity to the hospital: about 2 miles. This dramatically aided my wife and I in our efforts to reproduce in a civilized fashion.
Our efforts were nearly stymied by my employer. The United States Marine Corps is not known as a compassionate organization. They scheduled field training the week we were due. As the saying goes, “If the Corps wanted you to have a wife, they would’ve issued you one.”
While the Corps may be tough on families, individual Marine leaders tend to be fairly understanding, and will often work to accomplish both the goals of the unit and the goals of its members. My unit’s goal was to blow stuff up…my goal was to be there for the birth of my first child.
After speaking with my commander, highly irregular arrangements were made for me to keep my personally owned vehicle nearby while we were in the field making it rain. Whilst in the middle of such shenanigans, I received the call: wifey was four centimeters dilated. My CO noticed me standing there directing fire with one hand on a military radio and another on my cell phone. “I’m getting nervous, sir,” I said.
“Go, ” he replied, “Let us know how it turns out.”
While still wearing all my body armor, I sprinted for my car. It was like a scene from The Dukes of Hazard. I left a dust trail a quarter mile long as I left the training area.
In the end, I made it in plenty of time. A couple of days later, my command even sent flowers. You stay classy San Diego.