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!”
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
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 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?
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
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.
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.
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