No the day you left middle school was NOT the end of it. One of us is still on medication for the stress inducing peer pressure of high school and the shock of discovering that college had nothing to do with academics and everything to do with one’s mastery of the Greek alphabet.

Sadly, for our self-esteem, and happily, for the plastic surgery and retail industries, there is no obvious end to the pressure we affect upon ourselves of trying to fit in. And, we don’t just want to fit in, we want to fit in PLUS (plus being the operative word). To illustrate, I’m in with all the fun girls PLUS my car is a little nicer, PLUS I work out a little bit more, PLUS I went shopping for (and bought) a beautiful new summer bag, PLUS I’m on all the important committees, PLUS my children are brilliant, PLUS my soldier is “the man”, etc.

One would think that with the days of youth slipping quickly by and the wisdom of age and experience factoring into our self-perception, we’d be able to move beyond this conundrum. One would think. Our soldiers love us, our children think we’re wonderful (generally speaking), our true friends accept us no matter if we botch the coffee or leave them off of our change of command invite list. So what’s up with us? Why am I trying to be like (or even, gasp!, competing) with you – when did Polish Pottery acquisition become paramount?!

So! Hey, hey, hey – you want to compete? Let’s take it to the mat.

Your vehicle must be a mini! Preferably a Honda Odyssey or Toyota Sienna (don’t vary too far from the gold or white exterior; the tan interior is a MUST).

Your soldier must be a rock star! His FOB? The worst! His time at the office? The longest! His awards? Cover the uniform! Time to call you? NEVER – he’s WAY too engaged with the enemy!

Your children must be the best at…….. school (go TAG or go home), sports (pick a team, any team – your kid is the high scorer!), college scholarship (National Merit Finalists always get a full ride)!

Or, on the other hand, your children must be the worst at…….. being a role model (the tattoo guy thought she was 18!), absences (we’re repeating the 7th grade – gratuitous eye roll), sports (she thinks the soccer coach is hot!).

You must be busy, busy, busy! Committees? Full to capacity. Functions? Calendar is crammed. Family activities? repeat after me: "You can NOT imagine my schedule – I can barely fit in the three minutes to read this blog!"

Spikey hair, French tip nails, Talbot’s knockoffs, iPhone? Check, check, check, check!

You go girl!

Want to be different? Think long and hard about that – you’re in the Army bubble and bursting that bubble might not be worth the consequences (it gets lonely when you’re really weird, like you drive a sedan - or something off the wall like that - and your kids might not like being ostracized at school because their mom doesn’t help with their homework). You need (biologically, emotionally, mentally – per Maslow) to fit in. If you’ve got time to go to lunch with friends, send out birthday cards on time, stop by the hospital to see your neighbor’s new baby, read a book, take a Spanish class – you clearly have too much time on your hands and should consider making an appointment for a pointier future by dialing the salon nearest you.

Concerned that being a member of "Helmet Heads" (Pearl & Mercedes’ nomenclature for Army Wife "Followship”) might cost more than you’re willing to pay or take more than you’ve got to give? We’re warming up the minivan for a committee meeting but we’ll schedule an hour or so of thinking (and maybe even writing) about functional followship into our exceedingly packed calendars!