This weekend we got a phone call from Daddy. He and I are both having a rough time. In fact, I think this is the worst deployment for both of us in many ways. He is bouncing back and forth from post to post every other week or so. He never gets to feel settled or established. It is like an entire year without a home, privacy, peace. It seems strange to talk about him having peace in a combat zone, but having a bed, a room to call your own is at least a slice of peace, if not the real deal.
Of course, you know why I am at my breaking point. There are literally piles of unattended to crap everywhere. The carpet needs vacuuming but I would have to pick up in order to vacuum and since that isn't happening . . . I spend 90% of everyday feeling like a failure as a mother, wife, teacher, person and 100% of it tired. Even when I am asleep, I dream about being tired. Now that's wiped out.
Then we get a chance to talk and all we both need is to be able to vent and what happens? The phone is broken. FIVE TIMES mid-conversation I all of a sudden can't hear him. Once he called back and I couldn't hear him from "hello". I was ready to cry. He calls maybe once a month, sometimes twice. This week he needed some information for a security clearance, so he called late one night. We got a chance to hear each other's voices TWICE, woo hoo, in one week.
I know guys who can call everyday. I know wives who want that. I have never had that with him in Iraq, but our relationship started long distance. We talked on the phone for hours every night, from 7-10. It was the best and worst part of my day. Hearing his voice sound so close and be so far was torture. Being able to talk is what created our love and friendship, but it was painful to not be able to be together. If he called all the time, it would keep the sadness of missing him more present in my mind. I can't know for sure, but when we say good-bye my heart breaks a little. I can't bring myself to end the call. Every time we talk could be the last. I can't imagine saying that kind of good-bye daily.
We tried to talk about some serious stuff, but the less than wonderful phones kept interrupting us. It is time to start thinking about what happens when he comes home, what does he do next to start working toward his next promotion. What does his career progression mean for us as a couple and me as a wife? Do I teach next year, do I stay home? If I stay home for a year or two, how hard is it to get back into teaching? Will we be moving? If so, when? where?
We are both so tired, it is hard not to get emotional. He has concerns. I have concerns. We hate this separation again. We hate the problems being apart brings us. It takes so much time away from his life that he feels like he has to cram everything in when he comes back and I feel like I have to play second fiddle to everything else. I have to be understanding and share him with his dad, mom, sister, children, hunting, fishing, friends, all of which wives complain about when they see their husbands everyday. It is hard not seeing him for a year, then having to let him out of my sight for even a few days is so difficult, it hurts to write about it now, but unfair for me to ever say much to him about. The least I can do is let him have his time to himself, even when I just want to be around him 24/7 for awhile.
He will come back right when I go back to work. He will come home and get 30 days leave, and I will have to go to work everyday. I can take off, but the first few weeks of school are challenging enough to set a tone for the year without taking a few weeks off. I am trying not to cry thinking about how emotionally difficult that will be, especially if he wants to take a trip somewhere and I have to stay behind. Somehow, being without him for a night or two when he comes home is harder to consider than the next seven months without him here now.
So we're on this phone call, trying to discuss our future plans, make big decisions and he has to call me back every few minutes and eventually switch phones completely. He is trying not to break down; I am trying not to break down. The baby is alternately screaming into the phone which makes everything even, cuz now he can't hear me either. We finally decide nothing except to start looking into things and come to a decision as soon as we have some options for what he might be able to do or be next.
Before hanging up, we decide that this year is testing both of our patience and will be a good growth year so that we are more patient with each other in the future. We say a 100 I love you's before really hanging up. Never enough time, never the right words, never good enough. It is so hard to love a soldier, but so easy to love Chad that I signed up anyway. The love doesn't stop it from being hard, just makes it worth doing.
Of course, you know why I am at my breaking point. There are literally piles of unattended to crap everywhere. The carpet needs vacuuming but I would have to pick up in order to vacuum and since that isn't happening . . . I spend 90% of everyday feeling like a failure as a mother, wife, teacher, person and 100% of it tired. Even when I am asleep, I dream about being tired. Now that's wiped out.
Then we get a chance to talk and all we both need is to be able to vent and what happens? The phone is broken. FIVE TIMES mid-conversation I all of a sudden can't hear him. Once he called back and I couldn't hear him from "hello". I was ready to cry. He calls maybe once a month, sometimes twice. This week he needed some information for a security clearance, so he called late one night. We got a chance to hear each other's voices TWICE, woo hoo, in one week.
I know guys who can call everyday. I know wives who want that. I have never had that with him in Iraq, but our relationship started long distance. We talked on the phone for hours every night, from 7-10. It was the best and worst part of my day. Hearing his voice sound so close and be so far was torture. Being able to talk is what created our love and friendship, but it was painful to not be able to be together. If he called all the time, it would keep the sadness of missing him more present in my mind. I can't know for sure, but when we say good-bye my heart breaks a little. I can't bring myself to end the call. Every time we talk could be the last. I can't imagine saying that kind of good-bye daily.
We tried to talk about some serious stuff, but the less than wonderful phones kept interrupting us. It is time to start thinking about what happens when he comes home, what does he do next to start working toward his next promotion. What does his career progression mean for us as a couple and me as a wife? Do I teach next year, do I stay home? If I stay home for a year or two, how hard is it to get back into teaching? Will we be moving? If so, when? where?
We are both so tired, it is hard not to get emotional. He has concerns. I have concerns. We hate this separation again. We hate the problems being apart brings us. It takes so much time away from his life that he feels like he has to cram everything in when he comes back and I feel like I have to play second fiddle to everything else. I have to be understanding and share him with his dad, mom, sister, children, hunting, fishing, friends, all of which wives complain about when they see their husbands everyday. It is hard not seeing him for a year, then having to let him out of my sight for even a few days is so difficult, it hurts to write about it now, but unfair for me to ever say much to him about. The least I can do is let him have his time to himself, even when I just want to be around him 24/7 for awhile.
He will come back right when I go back to work. He will come home and get 30 days leave, and I will have to go to work everyday. I can take off, but the first few weeks of school are challenging enough to set a tone for the year without taking a few weeks off. I am trying not to cry thinking about how emotionally difficult that will be, especially if he wants to take a trip somewhere and I have to stay behind. Somehow, being without him for a night or two when he comes home is harder to consider than the next seven months without him here now.
So we're on this phone call, trying to discuss our future plans, make big decisions and he has to call me back every few minutes and eventually switch phones completely. He is trying not to break down; I am trying not to break down. The baby is alternately screaming into the phone which makes everything even, cuz now he can't hear me either. We finally decide nothing except to start looking into things and come to a decision as soon as we have some options for what he might be able to do or be next.
Before hanging up, we decide that this year is testing both of our patience and will be a good growth year so that we are more patient with each other in the future. We say a 100 I love you's before really hanging up. Never enough time, never the right words, never good enough. It is so hard to love a soldier, but so easy to love Chad that I signed up anyway. The love doesn't stop it from being hard, just makes it worth doing.
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