Take Your Belt Off!

I was supposed to have the perfect going-to-the-airport-to-pick-up-my-husband-after-not-seeing-him-for-8-months-outfit. At first, I forgot this detail. I thought about what cute outfit I'd put our daughter in and actually FORGOT to think about my own clothes. Oh no I've become one of those women already. My daughter ended up staying with my parents so hubby and I could have a day or two alone. Now the only one in need of the perfect outfit was me. I pictured a knee length black skirt, tights, and boots. Problem? No boots. No time to shop. No fashion sense. Winter weather. I figured a skirt and snow pants wouldn't be very sexy.

I worked with what I had, and ran out the door in a pink turtle neck sweater and black pants. He hasn't seen me in over 8 months, does it matter? Plus he probably hasn't seen much pink so I figured I had that going for me.

I arrived at the airport 30 minutes before the scheduled arrival, but only 15 minutes before the expected arrival that I had just discovered listed on the airline's website. Military families are allowed to meet their soldiers at the gate! I talked to a man guarding the security check point line. His accent was so heavy I couldn't understand him and didn't want to waste the precious minutes I had. He just kept repeating something over and over, while I stared at him blankly. I finally understood that I had to go wait in line at the airline to get a security pass.

I ran toward the other end of the airport and asked someone from the airline where to go. She directed me to first class. I waited behind a man who had possibly never flown or used a computer before in his life. He was getting A LOT of help from the employee. When it was finally my turn I stuttered about what I needed. What if this wasn't actually possible? She smiled and kindly granted my wish.

I went to the first class security check point. Unfortunately, I still had to wait and wait and wait. I had to take my shoes and jacket off and put them in a big gray bucket. Wasn't anyone else in a rush? This was possibly the slowest moving line EVER. It was now 1:26-the time his plane was expected to land. The security guard was making people take every last piece of metal off and put it on the conveyer belt. I took off my belt and watch (why in the world didn't my thoughts about an outfit consider airport convenience?) . I got through the line, retrieved my belongings, and put on one shoe and ran towards the gate with the other shoe partly on, carrying my belt. I stopped running twice to try and slip by left shoe all the way on. I finally succeeded steps from the gate. I saw a soldier in uniform. Probably not my husband...but I haven't seen him in so long I double checked to be sure. Nope. Was he on the flight with my husband? I was tempted to ask, but I sensed that fate was on my side today. Deep breathe.

I got to the gate at 1:37. Were they already out? Had the gate changed? I couldn't even tell if a plane was parked outside the gate. I impatiently waited in line to ask, while frantically searching the crowds of people to make sure I didn't miss my husband. Suddenly I saw the most beautiful sight. Time moved in slow motion. Soldiers in uniform coming towards me from an outside hallway. My husband was the first of 3 soldiers. I didn't have to double check to know. We embraced 6 steps from the door. He picked me up and carried me a few more feet out of the way so the other soldiers could get to their families. We hugged and kissed as I held my belt in one hand, ID and security pass in the other, jacket slung over my arm. I think his first words were, "You made it! I thought you'd be running late". Running? Yes. Late? Oh, I had a few seconds to spare.

Fort Hood

I was driving home on Thursday, listening to my daughter tell stories about daycare. I had the radio on quietly. Suddenly I heard a news story about soldiers. I turned up the radio and time froze. An attack on a military base, in the US? I couldn't think straight.

At home I stood in front of the TV, trying to understand what they were reporting. I went through all the soldiers and wives I know and tried to think if any had a connection to Fort Hood. I would have been glued to the television all night had my daughter not interrupted my trance. She walked in front of the TV and then hugged my legs and said, "I love you, too Mommy."

I turned off the TV, but the story stayed with me. I thought about the two times my husband has gone through SRP. I don't know what that stands for, but I know its military talk for, "hours and even days of waiting around and getting everything in order to deploy". I know for young soldiers it can be exhilarating and terrifying and even boring. Hours of waiting for dental appointments and eye exams and appointments with legal representatives and lots of paperwork. Then paperwork gets lost or filled out wrong, so it needs to be done again. Then there is the completion of the will. Everyone is probably nervous and scared, but trying not to show it. For families, this time that our soldiers are at SRP means that deployment is imminent. Couples have started the emotional pull apart in an effort to desensitize and gather strength for the send off and deployment.

So, when I hear that the Fort Hood shooting occurred during an SRP I can't help but picture the room full of young men and women ready to serve our country. They think they are summoning strength and courage for a deployment away from their families. They are bored of sitting in that room. They are counting down the minutes until they can relax and see their families again or make a phone call or have a cigarette or even board that plane and just get this thing started. Some of them are observing the ridiculous disorganization of military ways. Some of them are perfecting their, "hurry up and wait" skills. Wives are at home overwhelmed with the idea that soon their husbands will deploy. They are mad at themselves for the annoyance that they feel towards their husbands. He's already distant. He's already handed over too much responsibility on the home front. They wonder how they'll do it. They are wishing they could treasure the last few moments but they can't stop crying or yelling or pretending to be helpful and supportive.

Then tragedy strikes. The emotional challenge that everyone was gearing up for would have been so much easier. Easier to cope with. Easier to understand. Easier to recover from.

It's not my story, yet I can't get it out of my head.

By Friday I found out that I had overlooked someone. I have a connection to one of the victims. He is a graduate from the school I teach at. I remember hearing he had joined the military and was stationed at Fort Hood. I didn't know him, but his brother is in the classroom across the hall from me. His wife graduated from our school, too. She just moved to Fort Hood with their children.

It's still not my story, yet I can't get it out of my head. This has nothing to do with fear that it could be me and my family. It has everything to do with sadness that it happened at all.

My thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families. May they someday feel peace again.

You know your husband is deployed if ...

...your toddler leaves a video message for Daddy about her latest potty training accomplishments.

...you wake up in the middle of the night because your computer is making noises that could be incoming chat messages, but are really automatic updates.

...your toddler sees soldiers in uniform and says "That is my Daddy."

...the dog barks for 20 minutes at bunnies, but you let him because you want him to continue scaring away anything or anyone that's outside the house.

...your toddler changes the song "Three Blind Mice" to "Three Blind Camels" (She REALLY did this. Those were the only 3 words in her whole song, but she sang them over and over!)

Don't catch it

Sometimes deployment just sucks and there isn't a positive spin. For the sake of honesty I'd like to write about that tonight. I haven't blogged in awhile and thought maybe I should wait until the funk passes. But why? Its not truthful when I ALWAYS give my posts a silver lining, a happy ending, or a funny twist.

Sometimes the distance feels greater. Sometimes the communication is nonexistent. Sometimes the everyday stresses feel more stressful. Sometimes life feels darker. Sometimes there is a strange kind of joy found in the unhappiness. It happens.

I've learned this mood can be contagious. Just look on Facebook and you can track the general mood of the day. Lots of people complaining about the weather, feeling sick, being overwhelmed lately. Or is that just my interpretation? Could be. Unhappiness finds unhappiness.

Time to attack the infection one pathetic thought at a time. Time to fight off the depression. But I really don't want to. Why does the nature of depression make us hold on so tightly to the misery? Why do our minds sabotage us into staying depressed?

My Orders Arrived

The smell became overwhelming. Every time I walked into my house I smelled them. I didn't actually notice the stench anywhere else in the house, just the entryway. Friends thought wet basement. Parents thought stinky garage smell seeping in. I knew. The mice were back and they were living in the crawl space below the entry way. Once you've smelled them you don't forget. The deployment curse strikes again and this time it cannot be ignored.

My parents unscrewed the plywood wall my husband had put up between the closet and crawl space. Whew! Knocked over by the smell. Yup. Mice. My dad saw seeds stockpiled for winter. I saw droppings from their months of late night parties. The crawl space used to have standing water, but my husband fixed the leaks. Now it is a dry, warm party room for a colony of mice. They had gone undisturbed for many months. I hadn't heard them or seen them. They stayed out of my sight. The plywood wall worked so well they hadn't even traveled out into the closet. But then the smell hit and gave them away.

I called the exterminator. He came today and I signed a 3 month insurance plan. Usually its a one time visit and then return visits only if needed. He'll be back.

He looked into the crawl space a little more thoroughly than my parents and I did the other night. He stepped back in amazement. Then he took pictures to show the other exterminators. Seriously. Pictures of the scene might be posted on their website. You know its bad when the experts are taken aback.

He set many snap and glue traps. I vacuumed out the whole crawl space. Then I bleached my vacuum. I am ready for the battle. Or so I thought.

Tonight I returned home to find a mouse in one of the traps in the garage (yup they're in there too). It was still alive and struggling to get out. Not the image I needed to start this battle. Now I'm feeling sorry for them. I wish they could read an eviction notice or peacefully agree to my terms (move out and you don't have to die). I don't want to be a soldier. I hate deployment.

Through the Eyes of an Elementary Student

I told my class about my husband's deployment today.

Their first questions:

What's deployment?

When will he be back?

What would happen is he said he didn't want to go? (I explained he can't say that)

What would happen if he quit? (Again I explained quitting isn't an option)

Yeah but, what would the consequences be if he DID quit?

How long has he been in the army?

All questions that have gone through my head at some point.

Their next questions were uniquely kid questions:

Does he have to shave his head?

What if there was a girl in the army would she have to shave her head?

Does he fight people? (From a child with a sparkle in his eyes who waited to ask the question until I walked past him. He knew he shouldn't say it in front of the class, but he just had to ask.)

How long does college take? (From a kid who is easily distracted. Not sure what path his brain took to get here.)

One more thing to add to the lesson plans. Accurate information about soldiers with some more Q & A time. And I guess I should talk about college too.

Small Stuff

Yikes! Its been a long time since I posted anything. I'm adjusting to being back at work full time and I'm trying to find time for things like blogging and sleeping. Here's something I wrote at least a week ago and then forgot to post.

It's the small things people do that give me the energy to keep going. My friend that comes over every Thursday night. We make dinner together and she hangs out with me and my daughter. One night when my 2 year old was trying out underwear and peed all over the kitchen floor, this friend cleaned it up. Another friend leaves me cheery messages on my work phone. She remembers all the important or stressful days in my life and finds a way to help start those days out right. Sometimes her voice mails are the first adult voice I've heard all morning. Or my fellow Army Wife friend who announces she's coming over on a Friday night to watch movies and sleep on my couch. My family who makes me food, brings it to me, walks my dog, and hears me out. Or another Army Wife friend who hung out with me while I cooked and cleaned. Its nice to have company without expectations. I can be me. Stressed out, over worked, legs unshaven, house a mess, too tired to have intelligent conversations, can we sit together and stare at the TV?, if Jason calls I'm temporarily ditching you. Thanks everybody!


I believe that God gives us the people we need to get through hard times. I'm pretty sure that any future kids will be way more difficult than my first born. She's normally pretty easy and cute. She talks nearly as much as I do because I'd be so lonely without that. Between the two of us there is rarely any silence.

Thank God for the people in my life. All of them.

Sunday Morning Breakfast

Lizzie and I are eating a leisurely Sunday morning breakfast. when the computer starts ringing. “Daddy!” I nearly knocked over the table trying to click “accept” before the ringing stops. All the while Lizzie is demanding, ”Push me over”. I push her high chair over and pull up a chair for myself just as his face appears on the screen. We haven’t seen him or talked to him in nearly a week. Lizzie is full of stories. “We saw a mouse going in a hole.” “Look at my muffin!” “I can turn on the light in the bathroom” “I’m a big girl”. He carefully listens and enthusiastically responds to her stories. Sometimes I have to serve as interpreter and explain what her story is about or repeat his questions so she can hear them. She sings parts of songs. Her excitement takes up so much room I can’t get my face into the view of the webcam. I just shout my thoughts or explanations from the sideline.

Between stories, Lizzie finishes breakfast and wants to get down. I clean her up and let her out of her high chair. She plays peek-a-boo with Daddy on my chair. Actually she demands that I move out of the chair, but we compromise and share the space. She still thinks people can’t see her when her eyes are covered. So she covers her eyes with her sippy cup and then peeks over it. As he acts surprised she giggles and does it again. She is also giving me orders, “Mommy, say ‘where’s Lizzie?”

Eventually she gets down and wanders off to do other things. Her short attention span works well because then we get a chance to talk. Soon, she’s back in the living room, out of view of the camera, but hiding from Daddy. He asks, “Where’s Lizzie?...Is she on the couch?” I have to answer, “No, she's not on the couch”. He keeps guessing and finally figures it out. I remove the camera from its mount on the computer and pull the cord as far as it will reach so he can see her crawling out of the hiding spot he has discovered. She is giggling again. Then she finds other things to do and we continue talking.

Eventually I have to call Lizzie back over to the computer. “Daddy has to go now, say goodbye.“ She’s in the middle of “changing” her own diaper (she knows I’m busy and not paying enough attention). She waddles down with her pants around her ankles, but diaper still intact- thank goodness! She climbs up on the chair and starts waving her arms around like she’s conducting a world renown orchestra. These are gestures reserved for talks with Daddy. As she waves her arms she yells, “bye Daddy! bye Daddy! bye Daddy! I love you too!”

Running

I hate running. When I did run I was a sprinter. I sprinted because that's what kids do naturally and I had long legs so I was often faster than the other neighborhood kids. I also sprinted because I'm usually late and it helped me get somewhere faster. I started to hate running when doing it involved training and practice. Blah. Too much work. I don't like physical discomfort. I'll just walk. Although when no one's looking, or sometimes when they are, I still run in the hallways at school. It's fun.

My husband has run a few 10Ks while deployed. He's a runner. An endurance runner.

Luckily, my dog is the kind of runner I am. He runs to celebrate freedom, to chase squirrels or bunnies, or to have fun. So this summer we've secretly been running together. We can only go early in the morning when Lizzie is still sleeping and the neighborhood is free of witnesses. We sneak out and run laps in the cul-de-sac. We've done this about 6 times because its only when we feel like it. We're teaching each other how to jog. Sometimes he stops to pee and almost rips my arm off. That's okay because its an excuse to stop and catch my breath. I think the most we've done is 4 laps in our tiny cul-de-sac. I'm not really concerned about increasing that. It gives us just enough time to enjoy the morning, wake up, and get our blood flowing.

Do I like running now? Nope. Will I push myself harder someday? Probably not. I'll never sign up for any kind of distance run. I'll also never sign up for another deployment. But sometimes it helps to what if. So I do a few laps physically and mentally. It can't hurt.

Nobody's Talking

Well the soldiers have started coming home on leave. Everyone's leave is at a different time, but when they get here they have fourteen days at home. My husband will be one of the last to come home. When? We'll know when he gets here, but it won't be for a few months. I'm not letting myself think about specific dates yet. I'm more interested in what to expect and how to prepare, but no one's talking.

My past experience with Jason "visiting" for a week or two between military responsibilities makes me a little nervous. Not because of him. Its me. I go a little crazy. My head starts spinning. I start saying things I don't mean. My eyes leak continuously. I start freaking out about saying goodbye almost right after we say hello. I get possessive and possibly possessed. I lose the ability to share. I am like a Kindergartner clinging to a toy, "MINE!" Except that I'm clinging to a human being capable of making his own decisions. Okay maybe its not that bad, but my husband might see this as a pretty accurate description.

The truth is everything about the military creates mixed feelings. Sometimes outsiders don't know this. Of course the first and strongest feelings during any homecoming are happiness, relief, joy, excitement, gratitude, and possibly disbelief. But there is also some anxiety about the readjustment, frustration that the other person doesn't act or say what you pictured, annoyance that things and people changed, sadness about the time lost, fear about saying goodbye again, fear that you've both changed too much, and so on. Sometimes when I try to explain this, people respond with, "Yeah, but he's home!" I know that. He knows that. Its still not an easy transition for either of us.

So, I've tried to start preparing for his leave with lots of self talk. I have to keep repeating that under no circumstances can I hold him hostage for 14 days. He has to see a few other people and they have to see him. I have to share. I also have to give him some time for himself. Not being a soldier for 14 days after months of living and breathing it will be pretty challenging. He'll need processing time. I probably will too. Even as I type that my stomach ties in knots, my throat tightens, and I feel like hissing or hitting delete. I'm also telling myself to remember he is not me. He will come home and do things his way. That's okay. I married him because of who he is, not because he is a male version of me. I will regain my status as Queen of the Castle soon enough and by that time I won't want it. I'll be missing the King of the Castle too much to care.

Don't worry- I'll let myself feel all the happy emotions. That's the easy part. I don't need any preparation for that. My other emotions have a tendency to knock both me and Jason out if I let them sneak up on us. So, I will prepare for leave by taking inventory of the emotions that start to move in. I will name them, assign them to rooms and give them things to do. Clean the closet. Write. Sing silly songs with my daughter. Sit there and don't say anything. Be supportive. Listen. Breathe. This self talk and preparation will allow me to keep the craziness away. I hope. Am I alone in this internal battle? I hope not, but I cannot be sure.

I know one family who chose to pass on their soldier's leave because last time was too hard. I know someone else who admitted to picking a lot of fights when her husband was home. She didn't want to and she didn't know why it happened. Another normally well adjusted woman drove around her neighborhood before going home because she just couldn't have any more sex that day. Someone else had trouble getting out of bed when her soldier left again (not another side effect of sex, but from depression). Others have said they feel like its the first goodbye all over again.

I ask Jason about the soldiers who have returned from leave. How are they? What do they say about it? I ask wives how their time was or how they feel about an upcoming visit. I've gotten some straight answers, but mostly vague mumblings about how good it was to see each other. I know THAT. I want to know the other stuff. The stuff no one is talking about.

Having 14 days together is supposed to be a wonderful thing, so maybe its hard to admit the not so wonderful stuff about it. We feel guilty. But, maybe if we talk about the not so great parts, we can make them go away and we can just enjoy the time. At the very least, talking might help us feel a little less crazy and not so alone. Or maybe its just me?

My hopes

I won't call it a pledge, promise, or goal. That is too much pressure. I will put in writing that I HOPE to post something weekly. I also hope you'll check back frequently and post your comments.

How do we do this?

I read a status update from a fellow army wife on Facebook. She wonders how other people do this. "This" being working full time and taking care of 2 kids, alone. I've gotten to know her over the past few months and she's amazingly tough and balanced. She gave birth to their second baby a few months after her husband deployed. He hasn't met the baby yet. Every time I talk to her she seems pulled together, happy, and coherent. Three things I know I wasn't when my baby was born. And my husband was home.

If anyone can do this, she can. But that really doesn't answer the question. How do we do this? How the fuck do we do this? Can someone PLEASE tell us? How do we become single parents during deployment?

I go back to work in 2 weeks. I told my sister I don't remember how I managed work and home with Jason gone at the end of last school year. I've been so busy all summer! How can I add work back into my life? Not just any work but the nine plus daily hours of being an elementary teacher to a class full of needy kids. My sister said people ask her how I do it. I laughed and told her I have no idea.

I do know that I've gotten better at taking things one day at a time. Every time I start stressing about going back to school, I remember that I am not going back today. Then I focus on what I need to do today. I also try to remember that I have worried about the start of the school year since I started Kindergarten 26 years ago. Deployment did not create this worry. It just gave me more fuel.

I also try to ask for and accept help. This too has been a challenge in my life since Kindergarten when I couldn't find my classroom and didn't want to ask for help. I remember hot angry tears filling my eyes because I couldn't remember my room number. I'd like to think I've made some progress in this area, but accepting help from others is hard. I still get mad at myself or the situation before I realize that lots of people are waiting to help me in any way they can. If only I'd let them.

Last deployment a friend came up with the daily goal. What's the goal today? The goal could be anything as long as it was simple and concrete. It helped us feel successful on those days when getting out of bed was hard. Quite often my goal was something like, "wash the dishes" or "get through the day without crying in front of strangers" or "turn the TV off when the news comes on". We'd check in at the end of the day. Yup. Today was a good day because I didn't cry or scream or act crazy in public.

With a child, there really isn't an option to only accomplish one thing and feel good about it. But I frequently give myself permission to let things go. I lower the expectations. A teacher lowering expectations? Believe it. Its okay if I don't do the dishes. Its okay if the only 3 things I cook for weeks are pizza, pasta, and pancakes. My daughter and I like foods that begin with P and at least we ate something mostly healthy together. And at least I rotated the 3 Ps. We got some variety. And I didn't cry in front of her while we ate.

Actually, I haven't cried during a dinner with her in months. I have made great gains in the area of crying. Of course I still tear up and let tears leak out once in awhile, and I still have a good sob when necessary. I wouldn't be me if I didn't. But that pathetic weeping? Check. I've gotten that mostly under control. I'm going to feel good about that. No more weeping. Usually. What a ridiculous thing to pat myself on the back for, but being a single parent during deployment is also ridiculous. How do we do it? We just do.

Confessions from the Queen of Clutter

My plan for the summer was to declutter the house. I made some progress. Two drawers were emptied, reorganized, and still remain neat. My bathroom counter is almost always cleared off. I organized the house files so that I had a place to put all the incoming mail and paper that I need to keep. The files look beautiful and there are less papers on the kitchen table because of it, but its hard to tell. Sometimes I have a pile next to the file of things that need to be filed. I have 2 bags of clothes packed to donate and I finally made the call for a pick up.

That's where the decluttering projects have come to a stand still. I still can't manage to keep my bedroom or the kitchen counters and table clean. Sometimes there's a pile of stuff that I'm going to send to Jason...when the pile gets big enough. Sometimes there's a pile of stuff I need to do or mail or give to somebody. I'm just naturally a piler. When I'm stressed I don't get around to sorting through those piles so they multiply. I'm sure I'll get a few more things done in the next month, but I have sooooo many excuses and other things to do. There are 2 things I have finally accepted that I probably won't deal with until Jason gets home, even though it feels silly.

1. I have purposely not washed 3 of Jason's dirty shirts. He left them in the hamper almost 4 months ago. I pulled them out and set them on his dresser. They're still there. Why? Originally I thought I could wear them, smell him, and feel close. I haven't. I still can't bring myself to wash them or put them away.

2. There are 11 messages on my answering machine. Most are from Jason. I don't listen to them very often, only when I need information from one of the other saved messages. I can't delete any from Jason and I forget to delete messages from others. Lizzie and I enjoy one where Jason is being silly. Whenever she hears it she stops what she's doing and smiles, "Daddy being silly."

If you come to visit and you can't see any surfaces you'll know my excuse. I'm sentimental. I'm finding meaning in every pile.

The curse that no one talks about

Last time Jason was deployed I listened as an army wife shared that during a previous deployment her basement had flooded a few days (or weeks?) before her husband returned. She didn't want to deal with it so she closed the basement door and left it. Some how her husband had forgiven her and the mess/damage had been taken care of. Can you IMAGINE that conversation?

I couldn't stop laughing when I heard the story. I wasn't laughing at her. I was laughing because I could see myself in the story. I completely understood that sort of resignation and denial-that feeling of "nope, I'm not going to deal with this."

This was also my first time hearing about what I now call the "curse". No one talks about it. No one warns you. But it happens. There is a strange thing that happens when soldiers deploy. Their homes start falling apart in unexpected ways. Suddenly things break that had been working for YEARS. Problems creep up that you never even considered a possibility.

When Jason was at military training last summer I had unexpected visitors. MICE. We had NEVER had ANY sign of ANY pest in our home. I hate mice. When I was 12 I went to Girl Scout camp and there was maybe a mouse in our cabin-we couldn't be sure. I refused to sleep in my bed. Two friends pushed their bunks together and let me sleep in between them.

I didn't think I could expect my dog and daughter to sleep next to me and keep away the mice. But I wasn't about to face the mice or do anything about them. I started out by ignoring the problem. I hadn't found enough mouse poop to prove that a whole family of mice had been gorging themselves on the giant bag of abandoned dog food in a basement closet (what were we THINKING?). My headlights hadn't caught a mouse scurrying along the house ledge as I pulled into the garage. I couldn't hear mice squeaking and plotting how to take over the world when I walked in and out of the house. Nope. It wasn't happening. Everything was normal. I certainly couldn't SMELL mice. That must be the dog. Or me. Maybe I better shower again.

Although I didn't do anything about the mice, I did talk a little about them. I told my family and even Jason about them. I also told them about my denial and my refusal to do anything. They'd occasionally ask questions like, "Seen any mice?" "Set any mouse traps yet?" My mother found it hard to believe that I could HEAR mice. (Okay, okay, I'll admit I couldn't understand them, but I COULD hear them under the step into the house!) When people realized that I really wasn't doing anything about the mice, they started offering to help.

The offers to help and the fact that I was starting to obsess about mice (Was that one? Are they upstairs now? Should I move out until Jason gets home?) reminded me that I needed to pull myself together! I am usually a little hard headed about accepting help. I take pride in being independent.

After a lot more whining, I finally put my fear of mice aside, threw out the remaining dog food, vacuumed up the mound of mouse poop, bought 3 mouse traps, filled them with peanut butter, and set them out. Then the dog and I settled in for a night of TV. About 2 hours after setting the traps it got dark and we heard, "SNAP"....."SNAP"....."SNAP" within a 5 minute time frame. We just looked at each other. Then I turned the TV volume up and went back to my happy place of denial.

The next morning, I held my breath, kept my feet out of the path of any scurrying mice and checked the basement closet and garage traps. All 3 traps had dead mice in them. (I'm sorry to any strong animal rights activists reading this. You can come humanly remove the mice if they invade again. I wasn't brave enough for that. I did avoid sticky traps because I had heard those could cause mice to die slowly over a few days of being stuck.) After I had confirmation that the traps worked, I put on rubber gloves, got a huge garbage bag, and made the dog stay nearby. Then... I did it. I emptied everyone of those reusable snap traps with my head turned away and eyes closed. I shivered, squealed, and screamed. Then I sealed the bag and threw it in the dumpster and scrubbed by hands... twice. The whole procedure took at least 30 minutes. Not including the morning of psyching myself up for the task. But that didn't matter. I had faced my fears, opened the closet door, and started a war on mice.

I continued catching mice. There was one day the fear came back and my dad had to come empty 2 traps, but I did manage to do the rest on my own. I caught TEN mice during the 2 weeks Jason was gone. I found the last one in a trap the morning after Jason returned. I emptied it (without gloves and taking a minute or less) and thought, "Jason can take over the mouse war tomorrow." Well, go figure, there were no more mice the next day or the next. Jason had returned and the mice knew it. The curse had been lifted.

This time soon after Jason left, our garage lights flickered out. Then the hallway and kitchen bulbs burned out. I told my brother about it. He claimed light bulbs do that. I claimed it was the curse of deployment. The screws in my house are also loosening, especially on door knobs. I've tightened them twice since Jason left. I don't think he was regularly tightening screws when he was at home. I also don't think someone is secretively loosening them now. Its just the curse. That's okay loose door handles are easy to fix. I'll take them over mice any day.

I know I'm not the only one affected by the curse. My friend's house was invaded by squirrels and a NEST of their babies (found under her sink). That wouldn't have happened if her soldier was home. I'm not trying to be sexist. I don't know any military husbands, but I wouldn't be surprised if it happens to them too. It doesn't have to do with the wives not being able to fix it (WE CAN!), its just a curse. An inevitable part of deployment, right?

Okay, so I'm being a bit silly. But it seems like the best explanation. Plus it makes facing the falling apart house a little more manageable and even fun. Its not my fault things fall apart, but its up to me to fix them...or ignore them. After all, I am working against a CURSE, I can't reverse ALL of its effects. So, I'll choose which problems I fix. Just last week I heard a rodent or bird in the garage. I'm still ignoring that, but my screw driver is on hand for loose door handles and my light bulbs are all working... for now.

I'd love to hear your stories!

Red, White, and Blue

When I was in high school I took part in this thing that required me to be interviewed by some ladies from the American Legion. I agreed to do it because my teachers said I should, but I didn't really care about the process or the outcome.

I noticed that these women of the American Legion cared about things that I had never thought of, and I felt some admiration and awe for them because of it. They cared about government, and being an involved citizen; but most striking to me was that they cared about our flag. They gave me a carefully packaged flag. They gave ME, a 15 year old kid, a flag. With it came directions on how to fold it, display it, and care for it. What was I going to do with a flag? I'd never given the flag any thought; other than to notice where it was so that I could face it when I was supposed to say the "Pledge of Allegiance" or during the National Anthem at ball games. I knew I'd never burn a flag, but truthfully I didn't understand why this activity was sometimes covered on the news. It's just a flag, right?

I remember trying to understand these women and their passion and dedication to our country and flag. They might have been wives to soldiers who fought in some war that ended long before my life. Who knows? What I did know is that they had pride and an unexplainable toughness radiating off them. I liked that.

I'm ashamed to say that it took me longer to have the same admiration for soldiers. I remember saying, "Why would anyone join the military? That's so stupid." and then quite possibly, the most ironic statement I've ever said, "I could never marry a soldier."

Then I met Jason. He had signed up for the Army Reserves a few short weeks before we met. He would be headed to Basic Training that summer. He pursued me and I liked him, so I didn't pay much attention to the big army duffel bags he dragged into our relationship. Although as our relationship grew I figured (hoped!) he'd be done with the Army soon. I chose to ignore that the duffel bags were no longer big enough to contain all the uniforms and equipment he was accumulating. Army was spilling into our lives whether I wanted it to or not. But I kept thinking, "He'll be out soon. This life isn't for us."

Fast forward 10 years to the 4th of July parade in my parents' home town. I went with my daughter and my parents. Lizzie had her "Daddy doll" with because Daddy is deployed. I stood, with pride, as the flag went by. I looked around to see if others were standing (they were). As veterans marched and rode by I was filled with pride and gratitude. Pride that I am married to a soldier. Gratitude that so many men and women are willing to volunteer to serve our country.

There were floats, signs, or some kind of representation from all branches of the military, the VFW, and the American Legion. There were lots of those older generation veterans, probably married to the women who interviewed me many years ago. There were also many younger veterans. Some younger than me. Then, a float full of women and children went by with signs of support for their deployed soldiers (dads and grandpas). I wanted to jump aboard and say, "I'm one of you too!" I wanted to push Lizzie up there and let her be surrounded by kids whose dads are making the same sacrifices as hers. I want her to know she's not alone.

Suddenly,without realizing it, I'm part of that "group" that didn't make sense to me so many years ago. I've been a military girlfriend, fiancee, and wife for awhile. But now, I have pride that can't be explained or understood. It came without warning. I cry during parades. I sometimes blink back tears when my students say the "Pledge of Allegiance". I notice and respect the flag. I smile with pride and admiration when I see a soldier in uniform. My heart skips a beat. Not because they look like the man I love (although sometimes they do!), but because I'm amazed by their courage and sacrifice.

Damn this deployment! It's giving me more reasons to be a sap. I really didn't need any more.

Confession

Today I logged into my banking information to see which account I should withdraw some cash from. Let me preface this by saying I am responsible with money. I don't spend when I'm stressed. I actually hate shopping. I like to save money. I LIKE to balance my check book, although I admit I don't always do it. Too bad about that.

When I logged in, I noticed a transfer of money that I hadn't done.

Then, I noticed THREE OVERDRAFT FEES. WHAT? IS THIS REALLY MY ACCOUNT? yup. gulp.

Summer vacation started and I forgot to manage the money. Ironically a trip to the financial advisor started this. I wrote out a check and forgot about it. Well, they cashed it and then 2 days ago I caused THREE overdraft fees. Yikes. That's expensive.

Then yesterday, my dear husband transferred money so that things would stop plummeting further into the hole. He didn't tell me he did this. He didn't belittle me for my stupid mistakes. He just did it from his laptop with sketchy internet on the other side of the world. The money came from our joint account that I have full access to and it had plenty of money to cover my expenditures. It appears that he wasn't going to bring it up at all. I finally noticed my mistakes today.

I'm really trying to stop feeling AWFUL and guilty and instead just appreciate my husband. He knows just when to step in and help me out, even when he's busy on the other side of the world. And he's gracious enough to help without rubbing it in my face. Thanks honey. Times THREE! I love you.

Lonely

Loneliness is an inevitable part of deployment. I find it to be a strange emotion. Maybe because its one we don't talk about that much. Maybe because although its all about feeling alone, being with others doesn't always make it go away. Plus, to say "I'm lonely" out loud is humbling and makes me feel more vulnerable than all the other emotions. Its the emotion that always feels like my fault. My inner voice fills me with coulds and shoulds- "I could have made plans with someone. I should have realized that I have all this open time with nothing to do. I should go out and do something! I could choose to stop feeling lonely."

Today I set aside the judgement and shame and took some time to just sit with the feeling of loneliness and study it. Actually I wasn't sitting, I was walking. And I wasn't alone. I had Lizzie and JD. But I was still lonely.

Things that don't make the loneliness go away (but should!):
* Ice cream- its still yummy though and I'm not giving it up! Maybe I just haven't eaten enough of it yet:)
* Bad TV- I've watched a lot of shows about prison. Don't ever go to prison- as an inmate or employee. Its bad. Although, watching these shows does make me think, "Well at least no one threw poop at me today or put me in solitary confinement, or fed me through a hole in the wall, or shot at me..." So, I guess it does help me let go of some self pity- because these shows remind me that my life is GOOD and a little loneliness is nothing!

Things that help distract me from the loneliness:
*Friends, family (of course!)
*Spending time with Jason's family and friends- this was a surprising discovery! They help me feel close to him and this scares off the loneliness in a way that nothing else can.
*Reading or writing- Why does this work? I'm still alone! I guess it just distracts my mind.
* A good movie. Or even a bad one that is still semi entertaining.
* Having a good conversation with Jason over email, the web cam, the phone, or once even in a dream!

But the BEST remedy for loneliness (I was lucky enough to discover this evening) is...
Facing the loneliness. Admitting to it.
Talking about it. Calling it by name.
Looking loneliness straight in the eye and saying,
"You don't scare me! I am bigger and stronger than you."

Ten Things I Love About Deployment

1. I get to rearrange my kitchen cabinets however I want for the next year. Okay, so truthfully this hasn't happened yet, but it still could. I have the time. When Jason told me he was deploying again I scanned my brain for something positive. Anything? Rearranging the kitchen cabinets to my liking was the only idea I could come up with. No longer would I wonder where the pizza cutter was, or why that pan was in THAT cabinet. Jason does most (all) of the baking in our house, so I figured I could pack up the cheese cake pans, muffin tins, fancy frosting gun, and other utensils I don't know how to use for his deployment. It hasn't happened yet. Maybe because they are simple reminders of him. Maybe because Lizzie finds some of them to be fun toys. Maybe I just haven't gotten around to it yet. I still have time.
2. Deployment is a chance to be reminded of how many people I have in my life that care about me and want to help! I am so lucky to be surrounded by family and friends ready to help in any way they can. I'm always grateful for them, but especially when Jason is gone.
3. Its a chance to come out of my shell and catch up with friends. I'm introverted and most comfortable at home. With Jason gone, that gets lonely. So, I am forcing myself to reach out to people, to go out, and to try new things.
4. THE YMCA! That is one of the new things that Lizzie and I tried. She's taking swim lessons and because Jason is deployed the membership is FREE. Free is definitely a good thing.
5. Making new friends. Stressful situations can create strong bonds. I'm grateful for the Army wives I am meeting. Without deployment I might never have gotten to know these strong, supportive women.
6. A reminder to not push myself too hard, permission to say no, and the ability to ask for what I need. I liked being pregnant for the same reason. I ate when I needed to eat, I slept when I was tired, I let myself say "no" when I needed to, and I offered no apologies for these self preserving actions. Deployment allows (REQUIRES!) me to do that too. In fact, I got a dog walker. I know, it sounds extravagant. It still feels a bit extravagant, but I can't imagine deployment without her help.
7. The occasional moment when I realize, "Hey! I'm really doing this!" "I'm handing a sick kid, teaching full time, caring for the dog, and still standing!" Sometimes it doesn't take much to create this moment. It could be when I am able to vacuum the house 2 weekends in a row or the one day I remember to get the mail instead of leaving it for the dog walker to pick up.
8. Being able to support my husband and being proud of him. He loves being a soldier and I love him for so many reasons, including his dedication.
9. Hmm.....what else?
10. I'm out of ideas...
Well...I have plenty of time left to think of 2 more things that I love about deployment. There have to be at least 2 more things? Right?

Is this deployment harder or easier?

People often ask if this deployment is harder or easier than the last. There are so many factors to consider when answering this question! It depends on the day, the minute, my mood, the circumstances, my daughter's mood, Jason's mood, the quality of the phone or computer connection, and a million other things. Although on most days I wouldn't call this deployment harder, for some reason I also hesitate to use the word "easier".

It's just different. Different life circumstances. Different technology. Different information. This time, I often know what to expect because of my experiences during the first deployment. Also, the military provides us with more information now than they did in 2003. This is partly because I now have "wife" status, but it's also largely due to improvements in their knowledge of how to support families and soldiers. (Yeah! 1 point for the military!) The internet also provides a lot more information, although this is not always a good thing.

As for the emotional experiences? Well I'm discovering that they are not as different as I had hoped.

I still have moments when my deployment emotions make no sense to me or anyone else. There are days when everyone around me is mystified by how to help or what is going through my head. On those days I am usually just as mystified. In the beginning, I had a few times I thought "Geez! My husband is DEPLOYED. I shouldn't sound so happy." On one occasion, a support person from the military called me a few weeks after Jason got to Iraq. She was very compassionate. Her full time job is to support families of deployed soldiers. She is paid to listen to people vent and complain; and then to help them. When she asked how I was doing, I enthusiastically replied "Great!" After I hung up, I shook my head in disbelief. Did I really just say that? What a strange response. But it was true. I missed Jason terribly, but life was going along quite well and things almost felt "easy". Almost.

There have been other times when my emotions didn't match up to the expectation (mine or anyone elses). Take this week for example. Today was the end of my first week of summer vacation. I should be basking in the time to relax and enjoying my days at home. Surprise! It was one of the hardest weeks since Jason left. Suddenly I have all this TIME. Time to think. Time to check email. Time to check the mail box. Time to check Facebook. Time to check email again. TIME to wonder- what am I going to do with all this TIME? Unfortunately, I'm also exhausted from the end of the school year. So, I don't have the energy to fill up the TIME. Instead, I take lots of naps and then I worry, am I wasting too much TIME?

This week has also taught me that the emotions of deployment are still the same. It took me a lot longer to unpack all the emotions, but they're here! In fact, a month ago I (privately) thought, "Yes, this deployment IS easier. I am happy and well adjusted." Then I immediately thought "Shhh! I can't admit that to people!" This time I know many of the other Army wives and I saw and heard their initial struggles and instead of relating to current feelings, I was relating to my feelings from Deployment 2003. As if, you only get to feel those things in the first deployment. Like I had received the vaccination and was now safe from infection. BOY OH BOY WAS I WRONG. It took me longer to feel them, but here they are- loneliness, depression, worry, self pity. Ta- Da! They have arrived.

Although their arrival and attempt to settle into my life has been easier to cope with than last time because now I am armed with information and experience. Hah! Take that you emotional goons! Basically now I have labels and procedures for bad days. "Okay this is loneliness. Time to invite someone over." or "Huh..I think depression snuck up on me. Time to talk to someone." or even "Hey! I remember THIS feeling!" or on the worst days I know to ask myself, "What is my one goal for today?"

Fortunately, all the differences with this deployment do make it easier to cope with the emotional goons which snuck back into my life. Technology provides me with lots of ways to reach out and get support from Jason, other Army wives, friends, family, or even strangers. And Lizzie provides so much distraction, I often don't have time to notice all those feelings trying to surround me and carry me away.

So, is this deployment easier or harder? Well...it depends. The more I think about it, the more complex the answer gets. I think my new answer might be, "This deployment is different and most days I'm grateful for that."