Confession of a Bad Neighbor Living in Military Housing
Full disclosure, I’m nervous to recieve responses on whether people really care about the “offenses” I’ve committed in military housing… because I’m not sure I really want to know.
As milspouses I think we all fear being shunned by our milso communities at least a little bit. Whether we want to admit it or not.
Military communities are small. And being a military wife means coming to terms with false ideals of perfectionism. I’m not a Stepford Wife.
So here goes nothing…
This post is written in response to Jen McDonald’s blog post How to be a Good Neighbor in Military Housing.
When I read Jen’s story about her neighbor’s child digging holes in the Guam mud, I couldn’t help but think of my own wild child. A boonie puppy that became part of our family after I found her hiding in hole eating leaves.
You see my puppy regularly digs holes in the red Guam clay. In fact she dug one this morning in the rain… and got so dirty that I had to shower her off before I headed out to work.
Perhaps I should start by saying I’m sorry I live in military housing.
It wasn’t my intention to live on a military base before we PCS’ed to Guam. But I was stressed from traveling halfway around the world. And I wanted out of a hotel room.
I’m guilty of many housing taboos. Here are my confessions:
I’m sorry I’ve left my trash cans out for days after pickup.
Sometimes I put them out a day late entirely without noticing. And sometimes my husband and I have a silent competition of stubbornness. Each wanting the other to take them in.
I’m sorry my driveway and patio are a dumping ground for items that come out of our cars. But don’t quite make it into the house.
I see this mess every time I pull into my driveway. But then I walk into my house and it’s no longer visible. And I don’t see it again until I’m on my where somewhere.
I’m sorry I let my grass get entirely too long.
It took me a couple weeks to notice our lawn guy skipped town. And a couple more to find someone knew. But it’s not like the empty houses get their lawns moved anyway. Am I right?
I’m sorry my dogs bark at your dogs when you walk by our patio. And I’m sorry I holler at them to stop barking.
Trust me, it’s just as embarrassing for me as it is annoying to you.
And I apologize for when my dog escapes the house and ends up neighborhoods away.
She’s a regular Houdini but she’s friendly. I appreciate that you always let me know where to find her.
I’m sorry I avoided you when I was in my pajamas with no makeup. And yes, apparently I’m that vain.
I clearly wasn’t planning on running into anyone.
And I’m sorry I wear my bikini around my yard if that makes you uncomfortable.
It’s hot. We live on a tropical island after all.
I’m sorry I’ve never brought you baked goods to welcome you to the neighborhood. Or invited you over for dinner.
I can barely feed myself most days. And I’m terrible at meal prepping. But if you need the company and will eat anything you can always just say that.
I’m sorry I’ve borrowed things and didn’t return them a day later.
But it’s not as if you couldn’t come knock on my door. You know where I live!
Plus I’m sorry for whatever else you want me to be sorry for.
But the truth is I’m not sorry.
I’m flawed and imperfect and I’m okay with that. And there’s no need to live in fear of being called out in a military housing Facebook group.
Ain’t nobody’s got time for that.
If I had more time and energy, I’d be taking care of all the things I’m sorry I’m not sorry for.
What “crimes” are you guilty of committing while living on post?
Care to share your confessions?