The End

I'm official closing up this blog. Thanks for reading and supporting me through deployment.

I'm still blogging, but over on the family blog now.

http://lizziesdimples.blogspot.com/

Ahhh. Isn't closure good?

Confession

I keep reading sad stuff. I'm drawn to it. Not any sad story will do. Usually it has to be about the military or military families or war.

Like Mrs. P's blog. She's a brilliant, honest writer, but prepare yourself. She's a 23 year old Marine widow as of just 2 months ago. Almost every post makes me cry and laugh and be completely amazed by her.

Mrs. P. wrote for a series in the Washington Post called "Impact of War". On her blog she has a link to the article she wrote. So of course I read it and that led me to more sadness.

But in all the sadness I see strength. Maybe that's what I'm drawn to more than the sadness, the amazing personal strength that comes from stories of deployment and war.

Only 1% of our population serves in the military. (Does that statistic include spouses and family? Probably not, so we could say that 1% serves and another approximate 1% is directly impacted by that service.) In the last year I realized one of the responsibilities of a military spouse is to keep people talking about, thinking about, and supporting our soldiers. I am invisibly connected to about 2% of the population forever, just because of my husband's decision to enlist.

Tonight's realization, or confession, is that I'll never be out of the club. My heart will forever be drawn to stories of soldiers, deployment, and military families. My own stories (blog posts) about military life might stop, but I'll keep reading and listening to others' stories. When I read their stories I feel a connection. A connection to every military spouse past, present, and future. A need to share in their stresses, frustrations, triumphs, and pain. That sharing and connection is strong and often invisible and silent, but I've felt it.

I hope Mrs. P. feels that connection, too.

Identity Crisis

As my husband transitions back to his civilian job (he went back this week!) I would expect him to have some transition problems. Civilian life and expectations are quite different than life as a soldier. The reintegration process is bound to bring up questions and doubts. Is this really me? What's the meaning of my job? How do I fill this hole? Who am I now? These are all reasonable questions for a soldier returning home to ask him (or her) self.

But me?

I guess I didn't expect it. Last deployment I was thrilled to give up being a fiance with a deployed husband-to-be. I don't remember having any moments of "Who am I now that he's home?" (Although I did have plenty of "Who is HE?" moments.)

This deployment I coped with my husband's absense by EMBRACING life as a military spouse. I blogged about it. I read other blogs about it. I became a military spouse. I watched Army Wives. I hung out with other army wives. Because of Facebook and the internet I connected with people I'll never meet but I'll always feel bonded to.

My husband's return brought so many wonderful things- my daughter's daddy, yummy meals, a partner, a dog walker, someone to laugh with, someone to talk to, and a million other little immeasureable things.

It also brought one not so wonderful thing. I got kicked out of the military spouse club. Not literally, but now I read milspouse blogs and feel like an outsider. I've run out of blog fodder. I don't really care to watch Army Wives any more (gasp!). I haven't seen my own army wives in weeks and although I miss them, the biggest thing we have in common is the Army. And we're all trying to scrub the Army off and enjoy civilian lives with our hubbies.

So...maybe it's time I accept that this chapter of my life is over. Right? (99% of me is cheering, but 1% is sighing at the end of my time as an active military spouse- he's got another 10 years so I'm not done, but military is returning to the back burner of our lives, for now.)

The hardest part of turning in my membership card is admitting its time to end this blog. This blog is one of the best supports I created for myself during the last deployment. It helped me find a positive slant on most issues that I faced during deployment. But, deployment is over. It's time to move on. It's time to step back into the civilian world with both feet. I've never been good at goodbyes, so I have a few more posts in me before I can be done. Thanks for reading.

Totally Worth It

He's home! It's been 10 days now. Ten days never went this fast DURING deployment. I come home from work to yummy meals. Stuff I'd never take the time to cook for myself- like stuffed zucchini and veggie fajitas. Because I'm a vegetarian and he's a meatatarian he's making two meals every night. Our daughter has someone to eat hot dogs and pickles with her. She has two parents to give her attention and care. Our dog is getting more exercise and attention than he's had in a year. I have an adult I get to talk to, cuddle with, and laugh with every night. There is someone to tell about my day. It's not just someone, it's the person who understands and knows me better than anyone. It's the man I love. I get to SEE him everyday. For that, I am grateful. But...

The adjustment period has some challenges. It's not all bliss and love. There is a lot of that. But there is also awkwardness and irritation and moments of complete communication break down.

"You are seriously upset about this?" Yes. Yes I am. It's not rational or explainable, but when it comes to military life, what is? In fact, you not understanding my irrational emotions is making me want to stay upset. For a looooong time. [In some ways, that first fight feels like a celebration. We GET to fight again. We don't have to schedule our arguments on a phone or computer when our two separate lives and the time difference allows. We get to make up in person, minutes or hours later, because we know the other person will be there when the anger subsides. And the anger always subsides.]

"What do you mean you vacuumed because the house needed it? Are you saying I didn't vacuum enough?" [Not at all what he was saying. He'd vacuumed because going in the attic and installing a heat lamp in the bathroom had left dust all over the previously "clean" house. Oops. I'm a bit oversensitive today. I meant to say the heat lamp looks great.]

"Daddy, that's Mommy's chair!" [I was just keeping it warm while Daddy was gone...but to a 2 year old this change to where I sit at dinner is upsetting.]

"Is it okay if I..." [When will we stop asking permission to see our friends, leave the house, or have alone time? When will we stop apologizing and feeling guilty for these things?]

I'm reminded that my husband, daughter, and I are all fairly stubborn, independent, and we appreciate routine. During deployment we had a routine that we stuck to. It kept us sane and got us through a difficult year. It wasn't easy or desirable, but it was familiar. We don't want THAT routine back, but we do want A routine. Until that happens, our daughter might have more moments where she refuses to get out of the car because she needs some time to growl out her frustrations. I might sleep more and still be oversensitive. My husband might smokes more and talk less.

But every minute is totally worth it. Because he's home.

It's Official!

I can officially be excited. The military has made a decision and passed down the final word and I am free to do my happy dance. We have received the DATE AND TIME we can meet our soldiers. They will be taking a bus to meet us at their drill hall. The small town will be packed with people to welcome home our 60 or so soldiers.

I am so grateful that I haven't lost the ability to be this excited and happy! I was really starting to doubt myself, but the second I read the email my heart leaped. My heart hasn't stopped racing for the last hour. He is coming home. Finally.

So much to do! Finish cleaning the house. Finish lesson plans and preparations for a substitute teacher for 2 days. Watch 1 or 2 chick flicks that I know my husband won't watch- I have to do it while I can! Clean all the stuff out of my car so my husband and his army duffel can fit in it. Act normal and stick to the schedule so I don't freak out and overwhelm my daughter. Get the welcome home outfits (hers and mine) ready. One of us will be wearing a yellow tu-tu. And because my style is nothing even close to Carrie Bradshaw, it will not be me. Stop having anxiety dreams about being late and forgetting the tu-tu. Oh, and sleep. Sleep? When will there be time for that?

A lot has changed

To manage stress you have to change your thinking. Orchids, and military families, bloom under stress. Rocking chairs relieve stress. A lot can change in six years. These are the bits of wisdom I learned today at an event to help prepare military families for their soldier's reintegration process.

I was struck by how much the military and our government have learned about soldiers and reintegration in six years. In 2004, the briefing I received was put together by my FRG (Family Readiness Group). At the time I thought it was informative and helpful. It was in a school gymnasium. I sat on wooden bleachers and took notes. We were lucky they provided us with as much information as they did. We needed every bit of it.

Soon after the unit returned home I witnessed many soldiers loose themselves to alcohol and/or depression, my husband included. The unit had lost FOUR soldiers during their year long deployment. FOUR. They had spent a year never feeling safe. They wanted to get back to life and catch up on the time they missed, but for most it wasn't easy. Their brains wouldn't let go of the images of the past year. There was no external organization monitoring the unit or getting them help. Eventually most soldiers found the courage to seek help. They did this because they helped each other. Many were treated for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Soldiers recognized it in each other and encouraged trips to the VA for support.

My husband was one of them. Always an extrovert, I remember his sudden discomfort in a crowd. I remember his short temper and irritation at everything. I remember his disinterest in being with friends or doing things he used to enjoy. I remember his difficulty sleeping. When I got in or out of bed he would often startle and not know who I was or where he was. I felt like I was torturing him when I'd return to bed from the bathroom or when I'd try to give him a goodbye kiss on my way to work. So, I started making kissing sounds to announce my presence. I figured kissing sounds wouldn't trigger any war flashbacks or bad thoughts. I hoped they also wouldn't unnecessarily wake him up. It worked. As long as I remembered to kiss the air on my way into bed, he slept unaffected by my movements. He told me that driving was challenging, because in Iraq roadside garbage and dead animals often contained explosives. We planned our marriage (The wedding was 4 months after he returned) and got through things there was no manual for.

Six years later there is still no manual, but there is so much more information and support. Today's event included numerous speakers and booths with free books, pamphlets, and information. The room was full of experts ready to support military families and soldiers. We have 2 more of these events to attend. The soldiers will be expected to sit in a room together and receive information about stress, managing finances, finding a good or better job, suicide prevention, and how to move back into their roles as sons, daughters, moms, dads, and spouses. The irony is that six years ago there were 600 attacks in Iraq daily and today there are 3. An astonishing statistic, but I saw the proof when my husband was home on leave a few months ago. This deployment was easier. Not easy, but easier. He quickly adjusted to civilian life. He seemed like himself from the minute I picked him up at the airport until the minute he left. He drove and slept without complication.

So today I'm thankful for the passage of time. I'm thankful for the information and support available to soldiers. I'm thankful for the support groups that spontaneously form between soldiers and between soldier's families. I'm thankful that I own 2 rocking chairs. I know I'll need them. But most of all, I'm thankful my husband is coming home much more whole than he did six years ago. It's time to bloom.

Interruptions

We were finishing dinner and the phone rang. The caller ID listed one of those strange numbers with lots of zeros. I've learned to recognize those as calls from Iraq. I excitedly told my daughter it might be Daddy calling. I said "might" because sometimes it disconnects and we don't get to talk to him. It didn't disconnect, but... it wasn't Daddy. It was a phone call from my Alma mater. (Why does a university come up on caller ID with a phone number similar to a call from the other side of the world? They are only 20 minutes away from me.) The chatty college student asked, "Hi! How are you?" I was brutally honest. "I'm so disappointed. I saw caller ID and thought you were my husband calling from Iraq." She was sympathetic. Then she went into her persuasive monologue. I caved and donated. She caught me at a weak moment.

Earlier this week a survey company called, asking for my husband (by name). After hearing that he wasn't here, the man asked to talk to any other veterans from the Iraq or Afghanistan wars. (As if I keep spare veterans lined up on the couch to receive such phone calls!) I started LAUGHING and reported that my veteran was still over there so wouldn't be able to come to the phone. The absurdity and ironic timing of this phone call struck me as hilarious. The caller thought I was nuts and he got off the phone pretty quickly.

Today, while in a meeting (not while teaching kids) my cell phone rang (oops! I have to remember to silence it). It was a long distance number I didn't recognize. I answered. Ta-da! It was my husband. He thought it was Saturday and had no idea he interrupted my work day.

The last time he called not knowing the day or time was during his first deployment five years ago. In fact, many calls were like that. I'd tell him the day and time here. Then I'd help figure out the time there because he really had no idea. Those calls were often alarming and emotional. I never knew when to expect them. He could call in the middle of the night, middle of my teaching day, during the one opera performance I ever went to see, or any other time he happened to get to a phone. He would be sleep deprived from long missions. The call would disconnect many times. This created a ten minute phone conversation that took place in 8 different calls with lots of wait time as he redialed. We'd have no idea when we could talk again. So, I'd try to say "I love you" during each segment of the call.

Today's phone call reminded me of how much easier this deployment has been. (Maybe it wasn't even a reminder. I'm not sure I took time to reflect on this in the last year. "Easier" still isn't easy.) In the last year I have not received any phone calls that caused me to worry about his immediate safety. Not once did I get a phone call telling me about attacks or casualties. Most phone calls have occurred at planned and expected times. Most phone calls actually occurred on the computer so I got to SEE and hear him. His confusion and the unexpected timing of today's call had nothing to do with danger, sleep deprivation, or war. He lost track of the days because he's been sleeping, eating McDonald's, and laying around for hours. IN KUWAIT. My husband is one country closer to home. He's safe, excited, and boarding a plane soon. His voice sounded closer.

Finally! The interruption I've been waiting for.

Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde prepare for Daddy's return

My daughter is acting out Daddy's homecoming in every way possible. She got a new toothbrush. Suddenly it was Daddy toothbrush and the old toothbrush was so happy Daddy was there. This dialogue between the toothbrushes continued for a minute or two.

Have you ever seen a toothbrush hug another toothbrush? I have. It was actually a 3 way hug. Mommy toothbrush was involved too. (Which I'll consider a good sign because tonight my darling child said, "I like Daddy. I don't like you.") Last night she also acted out a Daddy/Child reunion with 2 chips. AND her baby doll just learned its first word. Yup you guessed it- "Daddy". (Baby can almost say "Mama"- another good sign.)

On the flip side, my daughter is sleeping horribly. She wakes up having night terrors (irritated and upset and inconsolable). One night terror was directed at her pillow. So, I took her pillow out and helped her calm down. After some time she laid down and fell asleep. Thirty minutes later she awoke and was irate at me for taking away her pillow. Irate at me sums up a lot of her feeling lately. All her unexplainable, confused emotions hurtled at me full speed. Unless she's cuddling and telling me she loves me or having me make phone calls with her foot. (This is a great time. I have conversations on her foot and we both shake with laughter!)

I can't blame her back and forth behavior. I've been displaying some of that myself.

I've stopped taking care of bills. He's almost home. I just can't muster the energy to open these last envelopes and figure out what needs to happen. Pathetic I know. Maybe writing about it will shame me into taking care of it. Probably not.

I did find the energy to vacuum the whole house. It's getting closer to the "Welcome Home!" state I want it to be in. (I no longer trip on piles of dog hair.)

Some nights I'm eating healthy and trying to make myself do push ups before bed (My husband is in the best physical shape he's ever been in. Me? Not so much. On a good night I do ten pushups. From my knees.) Other nights I'm sitting on the couch eating cookies I made to share with my daughter, but I can eat faster than she can, so I get more. Not my proudest moments, but if you had tasted the cookies you'd understand! (I haven't become a baker. They were given to me premade. I just have to bake them.)

I had my own bad dream last night. A giant turtle was trying to get in my car. And guess what? I was sitting in the passenger seat- right where I WANT to be. That thing was massive and had whiskers and my foot was stuck in the door. Awful. My alarm went off and rescued me. (I've never had any fear of turtles! I've never really given them any thought.)

Annie made me cry tonight. The closing song, "Together at Last" hit so close to home. Daddy Warbucks and Annie are singing, "I don't need anyone, anyone, anyone but you!" Then there was a 3 (almost 4) way hug between Daddy Warbucks, Annie, Grace, and Sandy the dog. They were so happy. All their awful problems were behind them (or in the case of evil Ms. Hannigan, drunk on top of an elephant).

What a perfectly fitting song! Our fears of turtles and pillows will evaporate when we get to sing that song together. Hopefully so will all (most?) of our odd behaviors. (**WARNING TO MY HUSBAND- we are so wrapped up in that song and that moment, that we might expect you to recreate the tap dance/singing performance. Aren't ALL happy moments celebrated with a song and choreographed dance? We think so! It doesn't matter if you know the words. We'll teach you. Please come home anyway. Soon. Otherwise it might be me drunk on an elephant.**)

The forecast

Sometimes meteorologists can predict the weather exactly right and sometimes they couldn't be more wrong. Deployment is like that, but instead of meteorologists there are moodologists. Moodologists can be friends, family, coworkers, strangers. They try to forecast your emotions based on the facts of deployment. I often become a moodlogist for myself. It helps to see sadness, depression, distraction, or exhaustion approaching on the radar map. Just like a tornado warning, a mood warning gives you time to gather the necessities, change plans, and hunker down until the storm passes.

There are times when the moods and stress levels can be quite accurately predicted. Everyone knows that the first weeks of deployment are hard. You have to be on automatic pilot to get through the days. You might cry a lot or feel pretty numb. Holidays are hard. Watching the news can be scary.

Then there are the sunny spots! Phone calls from your soldier are moments to be celebrated. Packages from Daddy can make an entire week thrilling. Surviving a particularly challenging week, day, or moment can also guarantee a feeling of hope and success- like a rainbow. These moments have emotional reactions that seem scientifically predictable and explainable.

Then, there are those unpredictable surprise moods. The undetected tornado. Sometimes my mood doesn't match the forecast. I've known my husband's approximate homecoming date for about a month. The moodologists predict excitement, relief, happiness, euphoria. When people ask, "So when is he coming home?" and I give the estimated date, the standard answer is, "You must be so excited!"

Yeah, I MUST be excited, but why don't I feel it? I know it's in there somewhere. Ugh. On top of not meeting the excitement expectation I have guilt too. Guilt that I'm not feeling what everyone else tells me I should be feeling. Instead I feel tired and ready to give up. I'm forgetful and distracted. I'm unorganized and I no longer follow my trusty schedule as closely as I should.

There is some comfort in the fact that my daughter is also exhibiting out of whack responses to things. She no longer wants to make videos for Daddy. In some ways she is uninterested in communicating with him. When he calls on the computer, she still enthusiastically says, "Hi Daddy!" but she doesn't excitedly tell him stories or show him things or even sit still for him. She just keeps playing or eating or torturing the dog.

I frequently suggest we make a video for Daddy. She tells me she'll just show him when he gets home. He will be home soon, but not soon enough to see the sticker tattoo, headband and pink glove combination she added to her outfit today. She no longer finds comfort in watching videos of Daddy, or looking at pictures of him. Sometimes she doesn't want Daddy doll around. I know she's not rejecting Daddy. Instead she's rejecting all the substitutes for Daddy. She tells me, "I miss my REAL Daddy." I give her space and don't push too hard. When she's ready I give her a hug and assure her that he's coming home. She's a tough kid and overall she seems pretty well balanced, even if her reactions and behaviors no longer match what we've come to expect.

Maybe I'm well balanced, too. The Wii Fit tells me I'm "unbalanced", but maybe that is yet another incorrect reading of my experience.

I tell people the estimated homecoming date numerous times a day. "Yes that IS soon!" I agree, hoping my voice shows the appropriate amount of excitement. But I don't feel anything when I say the date or think about it. I'm just sharing facts and having no personal reaction.

Until today.

We were driving home in a snowstorm. The roads were icy. My daughter was requesting snacks and music. The dog was sleeping in the passenger seat. Suddenly I felt it. Butterflies of excitement in the pit of my stomach. HE'S COMING HOME. SOON. I let myself start picturing the buses arriving with all the soldiers. The first embrace. The sheer joy on my daughter's face when she runs into Daddy's arms. I let myself start fantasizing about taking my dog's place. Soon enough I can be the one asleep in the passenger seat because my husband will be taking back his job as family driver. I pictured life after deployment and it looks good. Really good.

Then I hit a patch of ice and the butterflies of excitement turned to knots in my stomach as I gripped the steering wheel and focused on getting us home safely. We got home, unpacked, and went through the nightly routine. It may have been automatic, but we were both happy. Excited? Nope, that was gone, but I don't mind. I know it's there and it will be back. Excitement is in the forecast.

The season of unanswerable questions

I'm getting a lot of questions. Unanswerable questions. When is he getting home? What does he have to do before he comes home? Will there be a homecoming ceremony? Will he be deployed again? When could that be? What will he do when he gets home? How soon will he go back to work? Unanswerable questions mean that the end of this deployment is FINALLY approaching! As the days go by, the volume of questions increases exponentially. Unfortunately, the answers still haven't arrived.

I like to be the one with answers. When I don't have an answer I figure it out or make it up. I can't do that now and I'm finding it hard to not have answers. I need a clever response so that I don't have to use those three dreaded words- I don't know.

I could try:

"Time will tell."

"It's a secret."

"Ask the Magic 8 Ball."

or in the spirit of my husband's sense of humor, I could give a random answer like, "Blue".

Any suggestions?

It's a Hard Knock Life

My daughter has discovered the movie "Annie". You know, the one from the 80s. No, there hasn't been an updated version. She LOVES this movie. We watch part of it everyday. I really think it helps her cope with deployment and life.

Lessons learned from Annie:
1. Singing always makes things better! My daughter sings songs from the movie and any other songs she knows throughout the day. When she's upset in the car, music often soothes her.
2. "Ms. Hannigan is NOT nice." This sentence is repeated daily. I guess she's learning that some people aren't nice. For a week she was including me in the "not nice" category. Whenever I made her mad, she'd step on my foot, like the orphans do to Ms. Hannigan. So, that led to another important lesson:
3. We have to treat all people nicely. We can't step on people's feet even if they make us mad. I actually found myself saying, "Poor Ms. Hannigan. That must HURT when those girls do that to her!"
4. "We don't say shut up, Mommy. That's bad." Well she says this sentence daily, so I guess she DOES say "shut up" a little. She actually hasn't said shut up away from this context yet. So maybe this lesson is sticking!
4. "You're never fully dressed without a smile." Ahhh...that song speaks for itself. We have started checking if we have our smiles when we head out the door.
5. "It's a hard knock life." I think even at 2, she can appreciate the hard life these orphan girls face. She understands their pain and she sings along with them. That is when I'm not yelling at her to, "make this place shiiiine like the top of the Chrysler building." :)

The most touching lesson shared from movies came from another oldie, but goodie- "Lady and the Tramp". The dogs are all jailed at the dog pound. They are whining and howling out their sadness. Tonight, my daughter teared up at this part and said, "Those dogs are sad. They miss their dad." (heart breaking, isn't it?) I cuddled up next to her and asked what those dogs could do to feel better. "Hug". I offered her a hug and suddenly she was her normal cheery self again. She shared her pain with the dogs and the pain evaporated!

See! TV isn't sooooo bad. Sometimes it's full of lessons and therapeutic moments! Has anyone written a musical about deployment yet? We'd watch it!

Hurry Home Honey!

Of course I am MOST excited to spend quality time with my husband when he gets home, but there are other little things I'm starting to look forward to...

1. Him doing the laundry. I did at least 5 loads in the last 2 days. I'm sick of it. He always does the laundry and seems to enjoy it. Seriously. I know that makes me a very lucky lady. I like to vacuum and when he's here I do it more regularly. So, it balances out.

2. Driving places on my own. Yesterday I met a friend for breakfast. I brought my daughter because I can't very well leave her home alone and I brought the dog because it was a sunny day and he enjoys hanging out in the car. It starts to feel crowded and loud with all of us in there. I'm looking forward to the solitude and silence of driving by myself every once in a while.

3. Along with #2 is being in the car alone and listening to what I want to listen to. My daugther thinks she's a DJ and yells her requests for specific songs from her carseat. I haven't listened to the radio in weeks. When she's home spending quality time with Daddy I look forward to running errands, alone, and listening to anything my heart desires!

4. Coming home to dinner. Again, I'm lucky. He likes to cook and he's good at it. I am looking forward to walking in the door and having someone greet me WITH FOOD.

5. Someone to help with the dog every single day. I like to walk the dog...sometimes. I don't like to walk the dog when it takes 20 minutes to get out the door because my daughter wants to watch one more part of Annie and then wants to run around before I can put her jacket on. And the dog is running around stealing things. So I'm chasing him and retrieving stuffed animals and toys. I'm yelling at my daughter to get her jacket on. Somehow we all get out the door. I'm sweating and out of patience. Then we have to examine every snow pile (daughter) as we sprint full speed down the icy street (hyper dog). I think my arms are getting longer. Sometimes the dog acts like a person and stands on his hind legs because there are squirrels up in a tree and he wants to get them. Sometimes my daughter acts like a dog and crawls on all fours. That happened today. She got filthy. All her outdoor wear was one of the loads of laudry I had to do(see #1).

6. Someone else to answer questions. There are some days I can't even come up with any more BS to answer the million questions from an almost 3 year old. "Why did the sun go nigh night already?" "Why is the snow dirty?" "What is that thing?" Now I can use one answer for ALL the questions..."Go ask Daddy".

7. Someone else to get kicked and hit. I'm not hoping that she hits him. I'm just hoping that I will no longer be the sole target of her angry outbursts. It's hard to be the ONLY target of all that toddler wrath. It's quite possible that Daddy being home will help stop some of the outrage because we'll both (all) be happier and more patient. It's also possible I'll continue being the only target, but at least I'll have a teammate to take my side!

8. Less tears from the dog. A sad dog makes me feel guilty on top of any of my own sadness.

9. Someone else to sort through the mail. I hate looking through the mail. Most of it's bills or junk addressed to my hubby. Now he can deal with it all.

10. Someone to change light bulbs regularly. I'm totally capable of this, but for whatever reason I don't do it. My parents have changed 3 or 4 light bulbs during this deployment. My sister changed one. When my husband was home he changed 3. He also found an obscure bulb for our entryway light and held onto me while I leaned out over the ledge and changed that (see I CAN do it!) I cleaned up pounds of mouse poop so I have no guilt over not changing light bulbs.

11. Ahhh! That reminds me. He gets to finish dealing with the mouse housing development downstairs. I did all the hard work (with some help from the exterminator). There have been no mice since. The crawl space needs to be cleaned out a little more, sealed off, and all the random stuff I pulled out of it and left in the laundry room needs to be dealt with. That will make it easier for him to do all that laundry!

Geez...I hope this post won't convince him to take the free ride the Army is offering to Afghanistan (I have a lot to say about THAT too...but will save it for another day).

I'm just kidding about the long list of things for you to do, honey. We'll bring you beer and baked beans as you sit on the couch and relax. (Although the house might be dark and I might be humming children's songs while screaming at the dog and child to cooperate and get ready for a walk.) It will be fun. Really. Hurry home!

Yeahbut

Really? Only a short time until this deployment ends and he can home!

Yeahbut then he leaves for training a month after he gets home.


Wow! This January marks 10 years in the military.

Yeahbut now we have 10 years ahead of us until retirement.


Military life is full of yeah, buts. I guess I better get used to it.

I do have one yeah without a but.

Yeah! I did it. I took care of myself, a child, a dog, a house, and 24 students for many months. And I'm not crazy (am I?). But it's not over yet. Damn. That was a but, wasn't it?

What are your yeah buts?

Oh he left yesterday? How are you?

I'm fine. Really. Don't believe me? Just ignore these 3 moments.

1. I put on J's winter hat and peeked in on our daughter. She had asked about Daddy's hat because he didn't wear it to the airport. She saw me and said, "Mommy you're silly". My eyes got wet and I quickly put it away. No more dressing up like Daddy until I can fix those leaky eyes.

2. I smelled J's shirt. Oops. No more looking at, smelling, or wearing any of his clothes.

3. My mom called and asked about the dog. First she asked about me, my husband, our daughter, the goodbye. I gave her all the details in a detached but pulled together way. I assured her that I was "fine". Then she asked if the dog came to the airport. I got choked up. "uh-huh" breathe "He's....having....the...hardest...time...of any of us". Ridiculous. I know. But after J got out of the car, the dog's eyes were watering. He cries when J leaves. You don't have to believe me, but I've witnessed it many times. He also refused to eat all day. He jumped up when the neighbors' garage opened because it sounded like Daddy's garage. He'll be fine. I will be too. I had no trouble eating today.

Back to the airport

Right now I have nothing profound or reflective to say, but I feel obligated to write. We (daughter, dog, and me) brought J to the airport early this morning. It was before sunrise, so I was able to convince our daughter it was still night time. She accepted this and went back to sleep when we got home.

His leave was perfect. Perfect because it felt like normal life again, not because it was scripted and free of conflict. Did we do everything we'd hoped? Almost. Did we fight? A little. Did we annoy each other? Sometimes. Did we enjoy our time together as a couple and a family? Absolutely.

In my wedding speech over five years ago I attempted to tell my husband that happy days before him were not as good as bad days with him. That's still true. I prefer the days when he's here with me, but being married to him makes any day a good one. Even the day we take him to the airport and say goodbye, again.