Modern society has become desensitized to swearing over the last few decades, but back in the 1970s and ‘80s when I was a kid, the F-word was quite taboo.

“Gilligan needs a playmate,” I told myself. It was a true statement for our 2-year-old yellow lab, who was particularly demanding of constant attention. However, adopting a kitten was a risky solution with all sorts of potential inconveniences.

During my husband’s 28 years in the Navy, we were forced to create a “home” wherever we found ourselves and carry on with things. That is what military families must do — if we want a good life, we must make it happen no matter where we find ourselves in the world.

With the luck of the Irish on its side, you’d think that St. Patty’s Day would be associated with delectable culinary delights. But corned beef and cabbage?

For my roommate and me, the idea of going on a spring break trip was financially ludicrous, because our part-time jobs only produced enough funds for meager groceries, rent and cheap beers. Still — it was our senior year. Our last chance to really let our big, frizzy, permed hair down and have some fun before we’d be forced to become real-world adults.

Today’s military families are paying at least three times as much for groceries and gas as they did 25 years ago. How did we get here?

As a long-time Navy wife and patron of dependent military medicine services, I am accustomed to having to change PCMs often. However, recent changes have been extreme -- and that’s no coincidence.

Sibling battles are more volatile than conflicts between friends, parents or coworkers. Simple arguments can go from zero to 100 in a flash, because their vulnerabilities are just under the surface. Siblings know exactly how to push each other’s buttons.

Don’t run from those embarrassing moments and misunderstandings -- embrace them. They make the best stories later.

Every person is unique in some way, some more than others. When I forget to appreciate my distinctively authentic personality, I think of Raggedy Ann.