Day +8-10: Weekend

I'm sorry I haven't been posting the last couple of days. It was a long week, trying to get used to working everyday again with a cold. Plus, I haven't found a new routine yet. I got used to posting after the baby went to bed so that I would have some time to write without wrestling her away from the computer over and over again.

Now that my husband is home, the time after she goes to bed is our time to relax. This week has been big changes for all of us. The new puppy requires a lot of attention. He is into everything, thinks the carpet is just more convenient grass, and chews everything! The baby is climbing and exploring the house like a maniac. Chad and I feel like we're chasing either the puppy or the baby from the time we get home until we go to bed.

Reintegrating is hard at any point, but adding a very curious toddler and puppy makes things more challenging. We're both tired and sick, trying very hard to be gracious to each other. We've done a pretty good job of getting along, sharing chores, but getting close again takes much more work.

Just like R&R, we finally needed to get wiped out and a bit frustrated with trying to get along before we were able to quit being polite and cordial and get to the real emotions. It is really hard to watch my husband get emotional, but in some ways, it was great to see him finally break down and talk to me, tell me how hard it is to come home and feel like you don't know how to live in your own home anymore.

He says the more he's been gone, the harder it gets to come back. He feels guilty for being here while there are guys still over there. He took out the new guys for a couple of nights. Chad says they weren't very well prepared or trained. He ended up chasing down bad guys with only his pistol the last night he was in country. Last night, we sat on our patio in the warm summer wind, sipping on glasses of wine, and he felt guilty for being safe at home while there were guys over there in danger, struggling with fear, and he could be helping them.

It is hard for me to hear that he doesn't feel like he has done his share. It was really hard for me to hear that he is really having a hard time being home. He says when people say, "Welcome Home" or "Thank you for your service" or "You're a hero," he feels guilty for not being better at coming home, for feeling angry that they don't really understand how hard it is for him to come home. Even people close to him, don't understand the issues he faces with coming back, rejoining our lives together and feeling at home.

You'd think that you'd judge a successful reintegration by a lack of discord, but he was doing his best to just jump back into our life and routines without any discord, but was keeping his feelings locked up, maintaining an emotional barrier between us. It took getting upset for him to let out how he was really feeling. He feels like he half remembers how to live in a normal house. He struggles with sleeping in our bed because it isn't a tiny cot with a thin failing mattress. Driving close to other vehicles makes him feel panicky. He was scared our daughter wouldn't know him or want to be around him, and that he might struggle knowing how to take care of her.

Our reintegration has been pretty smooth, but there are a lot of things that living here at home, in the states we take for granted, like answering text messages or keeping house with a woman instead of 100 guys, like talking about what you're doing, or plans for the day. I'm just glad he started telling me how hard it is for him to get back to feeling normal, how guilty he feels, how emotional it is just to be home alive.

He didn't think that he was going to live through this deployment. He worried that he had pushed his luck by surviving three deployments already. Frankly, I was afraid too. He spent everyday being afraid that he wouldn't make it home to us. Now, that he's home, he has to get used to the realities of living at home instead of the idealized version of home he kept in his head and heart through the scariest times of the year.

We are really doing ok, but no matter how hard you try to avoid the issues or prepare for the emotions of reintegration, it isn't avoiding the conflicts that makes the reintegration go smoothly, it is surviving them together, being able to smile at each other and say "I love you" and mean it everyday. Our marriage may not be perfect, but we're pretty darn close and still very much in love. It will take months of being together to really feel normal again, but we're already pretty close to good again. 

Day +7: Duck calls

Today, my day was a little longer than my days have been so far this week. I was amazingly grateful to get a text message from my husband that he would pick up Lil Bit from daycare. I am excited for him to help out around the house with chores and the baby, but I know he needs to take his own time to gradually fit back into his life and our lives. A soldier may fly back to America from a deployment on a plane, but it takes him a bit longer to get home.

While I look forward to picking her up every afternoon, I prefer her having more time at home and love knowing that she was getting some one on one time with her daddy. It is hard for me to give up some of the parts of our routine and share the precious moments that used to be just mine, and yet, I long to share those moments with her father too. He got to pick her up today and experience her sweet little expressions and way she has of playing with the toys at school.

By the time I got home, he had her in the living room, watching Versus Channel and was teaching her how to use his myriad of duck calls. He had his six call lanyard around his neck. He would blow into her hand to demonstrate how to make the calls work. Then let her try. She even made a few of them make noise. It was very sweet. watching them together.

I know I have to share her. I know she needs a relationship with her father. There is a part of me that will be a little sad that I don't get all of her hugs and kisses any more, but being able to watch my two favorite people grow closer together, is pretty special.

He might choose to watch hunting videos with her and teach her duck calls, which would not be my choice, but could be his way of creating a relationship with his daughter. And his relationship with her will be all the more special for the fact that it is just between them. 

Day +6: New Routine

Tonight, I came home from work early. We are doing teacher preparation things which end a little earlier than a usual day. It makes coming back easier because we can kind of ease into the long work days ahead.

I'm doing my best not to count the days we have left in the school year already. Lil Bit is in a new classroom at school this year and is not adjusting to her new classroom very well. I'm not sure I like her new teacher. I know that daycare teachers make minimum wage. It is unreasonable to expect that someone making minimum wage to have a college education, but I am concerned about how well she's is adjusting and how much she'll learn. I love her so much. It broke my heart when she started crying this morning when I said good-bye.

Tonight we came home to Daddy pulling into the drive right behind us. He pulled Lil Bit out of the car seat while I dragged in my purse, briefcase, coffee cup, etc. Such a little thing, but having someone to take a few seconds of hassle and work made such a difference.

Then Chad made dinner while I played with Lil Bit, changed clothes, etc. We ate as a family and then cleaned up together, prepping our side by side coffee makers. After dinner, I sat on the floor with our precious little girl, playing with her kitchen while daddy answered hunting emails about making duck call lanyards. He makes them custom and is looking at doing some for other hunters.

After he finished his emails, he sat on the couch tickling and laughing with her. Later he even sat on the floor reading to her. It was really cute watching him point out the sun and clouds in her book and how Jesus was playing with the little children.

I'm still fighting the cold he brought home, so we have some ways to go before we're normal, but I'm enjoying our new routine. Sharing the chores, taking turns watching the baby play, talking face to face - life is pretty good tonight, despite the severe congestion and cold. I could get used to having him around, but am afraid to. Life in the army is never certain. It's just the way it is, but it is really hard work trying not to let myself enjoy being happy too much, but I'm not going to let anything bring me down today. I don't need to borrow trouble. Tonight, I'm just enjoying getting into a new routine with my soldier home.

Day 0: Da Plane, Da Plane

Last night at 8, we got a phone call that he was officially wheels up. So that meant he was on the plane!!! Finally!!! I felt relief immediately. I hadn't realized how much stress I was under with the constant changes and waiting until it was gone. He was on the plane, it was in the air, and he is coming home today!!

Really this entry should have been "De bus, de bus" because once they come in to the airport, they are herded onto big white buses. We sit and wait for the buses to arrive. We anxiously watch the soldiers file off the buses and into the ceremony area, fruitlessly trying to find our soldier in the crowd of ACU clad soldiers.

Last time he came home, I didn't see him until he was almost on top of us. His dad saw him first. They all look so much alike and you'd be surprised after a year, you forget if he was taller or shorter compared to his  company, wonder if his face is really tan, trying to remember how he walks. I spend the entire time scanning for his face wondering if he is watching me look for him, but can't signal because he's in formation.

I always feel like such a loser because I can't find him.  But he'll find me. I can't wait to see him, but I hate all the nervous waiting and driving onto post, sitting in the sun, waiting for hours. If he wouldn't be disappointed we weren't there with a giant sign welcoming him home, I would just swing by and pick him up.

At least this ceremony wasn't in the hot sun, like last time and we saw him as soon as he ran in. They had the guys run in with a smoke machine, which is really cheesy, but in the moment, was pretty cool. They were playing all sorts of upbeat music, of which my favorite had to be "It's Raining Men", which after a year of alone time, I could totally appreciate the sentiment.

It was a pretty overwhelming day. He just felt like everything was going a hundred miles an hour, and I did too. Usually, I'm all about having everyone here, but it was different tonight. I just felt like I had a million tiny, insignificant details that I wanted to tell him all at once. I wanted his opinion on the new dishes and the new furniture. I wanted to show him how nicely I arranged his clothes for him and how clean the house is. But he had so many people vying for his attention that he couldn't focus on just me.

He wanted to tell all sorts of stories, but with cooking, picking up, keeping up with three children and drinks, it was hard to follow what was going on. I didn't do any of the cooking, but I was trying to get knives or cutting boards or direct people toward spices or tools they needed. It kind of felt like the whole world was happening all at once. I wanted to talk to my sister-in-law, then MIL and then was also trying to referee a Kinect game and chase the baby.

It was a lot of activity. We both are just wiped out. He is sick on top of being exhausted and I feel just like I want to crawl into a cave and crash. I would give ANYTHING to be able to take a few days right now and just go away, me and him (no kids) and just relax. I am glad everyone is here and they are helping with cooking, cleaning and supervising of children, but after holding everything in for a year and then being so stressed and tense this week, we both can finally relax. All we want to do is sleep.

That's the truth of the return. While Chad pushed past his exhaustion most of the evening, he couldn't go much longer, so we asked the neighbors to leave and come back tomorrow. He took a hot bath and I washed his hair and scrubbed his back and rubbed his neck. We talked for a little while and then went to bed. I got back up so I could fill you in, dear reader.

He's home. The countdown is over. But I will continue to blog for awhile longer about the process of reintegrating. Tonight, it is can we sleep together again? I can hear his snoring already and I'm in the living room, so this might be dicey. But, the Beautyrest Mattress we got, doesn't move at all when you bounce on it or roll over, the pad I put on it is a cooling pad and adds just a little extra padding to a firm plush mattress that initially feels a bit more firm than plush. He's already asleep, but will I be able to sleep with the extra noise, heat, presence?

Tonight the lesson was KISS. Keep it simple stupid! We both had all our emotions invested in this day, in the moment, and then spent the day just fighting giving in to the tired feeling we both got once the stress was gone. We had just a little too much going on this evening. If Chad weren't sick, it might not have been so bad, but he was a little loopy from being so tired and I could barely keep my eyes open after three sleepless nights waiting for final word that he was on his way.

Day 19: Fiasco

The last twenty-four hours or so have just been one minor disaster after another. First, my eldest step-son pulled over a set of shelves, fully stocked with heavy, pointy things, onto my car leaving a series of dents and scratches. We just paid off the car a few months ago and just seemed like a jinx. The dents are very small, probably not worth reporting to the insurance, but will hurt the value when we trade it in, which we were counting on to continue to purchase vehicles only in cash.

Then we had an incident with the pool and had to drain it partially and refill it while shocking it and filtering it. I don't even want to think about how much yuck needed to die. We're trying to run the pump, but the pump keeps shutting down. I've done everything I can to keep this pool clean and clear, but it is getting harder and harder. Maybe it is all the extra use with the boys here. They spent like 4 hours in the pool yesterday.

Last night, I was trying to pull a ivy vine kind of weed from the yard, and it happened to house a fire ant nest. My hand was immediately covered in ants. They bit and wouldn't let go. Then they swarmed my foot. Now my right hand and foot are covered in horrible bites, swollen and itchy.

This morning, trying to get the baby into the living room/baby jail, my toe got caught in the hem of my pajama pants while trying to carry the baby over the ottoman, knocking me off balance. I crashed into the ottoman, twisting my hip and ankle and slamming my shin into the wood frame. A three inch by 1/2 an inch spot was raised about 1/2 an inch almost immediately.

Then yesterday afternoon we went to run an errand and the car wouldn't start. I couldn't get a service call to the house that late yesterday afternoon, so we waited until this morning. Then we got a phone call from Chad, which was great except he was cranky and grouchy. I wasn't in the best mood after waking up late due to a dysfunctional baby monitor and the tripping incident. We almost argued over a set of car speakers from the 90's that Chad is apparently more attached to than makes sense to me. I wondered why he was keeping them. He doesn't use them, won't use them in the foreseeable future, won't ever need a car stereo that thumps serious base again, and has never done anything but drag them around from place to place. I asked him why he didn't just get rid of them. He got snippy with me about throwing them away. His comment was, "Why don't I just throw your stuff away?" Which was a little over the top! I just asked him why he was so set on keeping something that no one would buy, he didn't use and wasn't planning on ever using. I wish I had thought to remind him that he did go around the house and sell some of my things without asking me at one point.

After I got him to realize no one was threatening his things and I was just asking so we could start paring things down if we're going to be relocated soon. He told me how to go about jumping the car and getting a new battery. So, the boys and I started pushing the car out of the garage. Once we got even with the truck, I tried to move the truck so it was closer to reach with the cables. I got stuck in the stretch of grass that is partially my and partially the neighbor's. The grass and ground was damp from trying desperately to water the grass enough to make it look less crappy for Chad and we got stuck. It took me a few minutes of desperately pushing to remember that I might be able to rock it out of the ruts by switching from drive to reverse repeatedly. It worked pretty quickly, but the ruts were there.

I finally figured out that we could get the hoods closer by rolling the car into the street and driving the truck in front of it. Beat myself up over not thinking about that first. Now I have to buy the neighbor dirt to fill in the holes. By the way, this was over an hour in the horrendous heat.

1) Car dented and scratched
2) Pool drained, filtered, shocked and then filter falters
3) Stung to swelling on my hand and foot by fire ants
4) nearly argued with my dear husband whom I miss so much
5) car died
6) hurt my leg by tripping
7) trashed yard with husband's truck

This week has just been one fiasco after another. I'm so drained emotionally. This afternoon, I was playing with Lil Bit and she was just being so stinking cute. She was doing this adult huffing laugh thing she does and holding her tiny, chubby fist over her face. I started sobbing for all the moments that my husband has missed and is missing while he's waiting for a plane home. While worrying about him in danger is hard, in some ways, it is nothing compared to knowing that he's just waiting for his turn to come home. We have no idea when he is going to move or when he'll be home.

Every minute seems to last an hour. I was so drained by the day, we didn't do anything else. We ate lunch and dinner, but the rest of the day, the kids played and we just rested. I look around and see a million things that need doing, but couldn't dredge up one ounce of energy.  I just feel more done and beat up than ever. I know I am more than ready for him to be home, but we both know that after the first few days are over, we'll be facing more challenges and have some hard days ahead, remembering to be patient when we get frustrated and when our days have more fiasco than finesse.

Day 20: Returning to a year old baby

I think I've dealt with this issue pretty well by keeping her father very present in Lil Bit's life, but my husband has to be concerned in some way that the child he left won't be the child to whom he returns. Even the little girl from R&R is so different than she was 5 months ago.

Like most parents returning after such an extended absence, Chad worries about how his children will deal with his return, how they've coped with his absence. The older boys are more practiced and emotionally better equipped to deal with the absence and return, but still struggle with missing their father for a year of their lives, every other year.

Anytime Allyson hears voice coming from the computer, she rushes over, blows kisses, waving and saying "hi dada." For all the life she can remember, Daddy has been a voice from a book, a picture on the wall, a face on a screen. Very little of her life and I'm not sure if any of her memory, has he been flesh and blood.

She is a very friendly child in general, so I'm not too worried that she is going to react poorly when he gets off the plane. I'm hopeful that she will walk straight into his arms. But it is more than whether she'll cry or remember him easily, he is also now coming home to be her parent.

Spending two weeks with her for R&R, he did take care of her, but being here full time is a different dynamic. He has to learn her moods, the tricks to get her diaper changed, all her signs and almost signs. She signs "bird" backwards, it looks like she's pinching her mouth and "flower" is just all kinds of wrong. He'll have to learn that before bed, we do "praying hands," say our prayers with her praying bunny. Tonight she even reminded me before pjs that it was time to pray. Funny because she doesn't sign prayers any other time we go into her room, but somehow she knew that we pray at bedtime. Funny how fast she picked that up. He'll have to learn all her expressions and noises.

And I'll have to be able to step back to let him get to know his daughter. I'm going to have some rough times the first few weeks. I am going back to work almost immediately and will be leaving her in daycare all day. My heart will be broken enough missing her all day and sharing her will be hard. Heck, sharing him will be hard.

Plus, we've done pretty good with our little routines. Lil Bit and I have found a rhythm that works for us. Adding Daddy back into the picture is going to change some things. Some things will be different, some things better. Honestly, I think it's normal to feel like I'm going to miss having her all to myself even just a little bit. But I won't miss having to do it all by myself every night. I might even be able to ask for a night off here and there to just sit and play with her.

It will be different, that is for sure. Chad and I have never both worked and had children. We're going to have to try to find a new rhythm as a family. It will have some great moments, like when he goes in to get her up in the morning, and she is so silly. I can't wait to see him react to her.

We'll have some tough moments, sharing chores, cooking, etc. Balancing each of our needs. In some ways, I am chomping at the bit to have a couple of hours of free time here and there, getting a haircut, a pedicure, run to the store, etc. I'm sure he is excited to get home to us, but he has a lot of hobbies that take him out of the house. He's going to want to leave us a few times too.

I really am not sure how my husband feels about coming home and facing a child he barely knows, but he's done it so many times over. I wonder if it gets easier or if it is just different as he returns home, older, wiser, more mature. I just can't imagine spending a day away from her. I've been busy in the last few days preparing the house for his return, even if it doesn't look it right this second, that I've left her playing with her brothers and I feel like I'm losing these last few precious days.

I'm sure he can't wait to make up for lost time and is a little apprehensive about getting to know this tiny person who blows him kisses and plays peekaboo via video chat. 

Day 26: Nightmares

I dream every night, but I don't always remember my dreams. I tend to remember the really good or emotional or scary dreams. Like most people, I remember dreams from which I am awoken in the middle. My dreams tend to show me what emotions I'm suppressing or fears I'm avoiding.

Last week my dreams were all about relationships. I knew how much I am missing the close, romantic and intimate relationship with my husband, even though I am trying not to think about it too much. After so long without him, I started feeling very isolated. I have friends and talk to my mom and mother-in-law several times a week, but Chad and I have a closeness that nothing can replace.

I miss the feeling of being in his arms, kissing him, feeling his heart beat. To survive the deployment, I put all those feelings away in a little box. I feel like I have them pretty much under control, but after six months apart, they start surfacing in my sleep. Then he comes home for R&R and I get a little fix. But two weeks or so of rushing around and stressful contact, is almost just enough to make the cravings worse.

Based on my experiences, this is the part that gets a lot of the spouses in trouble. The emotional and/or physical cravings start and they are so strong that they start spending time with people of the opposite gender. The problem is even the most innocent of friendships can be polluted when your emotions are so fragile. I know when I start having these dreams, I am really vulnerable. I make a point not to spend time with anyone male, just because it is too easy to put yourself in a bad position to make a bad decision.

I've seen too many of my friends' marriages struggle with issues of infidelity, physical or emotional, to want to even take the risk. The dreams are always subtle about trying to get close to friends or trying to find my husband. But my dream last night was more obvious. I dreamed a crazy convoluted nightmare that my husband was returning home by ship, escorting the equipment and vehicles home from Iraq. They were attacked and in the confusion, Chad somehow ended up in freezing water with killer whales. The army called me to tell me he was lost at sea, but they hadn't recovered his body, so I refused to believe it. I knew somehow he would find a way home to me. After a day or two, I had to accept that he wasn't coming home because no one could survive in that cold water for longer than a few hours at best.

In the dream, once I'd accepted his death and started grieving, then he turned up alive. I think I'm just so afraid that something is going to happen to him as the days are ticking down so slowly until his return. He will have nearly a week after leaving Iraq before he actually lands in America, which means his time on missions should be winding down in the next couple of weeks. But it can't come soon enough for either of us.

He is just so tired. He is spending 18 hours a day in gear that weighs almost 100 lbs. in 130 degree heat on constant alert. He is just tired. I'm more emotionally tired. I spend a lot of time trying not to think about how much I worry or miss him. I spend a lot of time trying to appease a cranky baby without relief. I get a maximum of two hours a day to myself and then I have to triage what gets done. I know the dream was just a dream, in fact, I think I knew it was a dream at some point in the dream. But the queasy heart twisting fear is real and won't go away until I hold him, wake up next to him, and do it enough that I almost get used to it. Maybe then I'll get a good night's sleep.

Day 49: Homecoming

After two and a half weeks of travel, I'm finally home. I loved the visiting, but especially the last week with the boys and the friends and the holiday. I'm tired. It was just a long vacation. I was ready for a couple of slow lazy days, but two rambunctious tweens and one walkabout 14 month old were not interested and we were pretty much jam packed the entire last week of vacation. Yesterday we were out on the lake in the pontoon boat. We were busy. I can't believe my MIL and SFIL are taking a few days to take a little trip together after almost three weeks of company. I just came home and sat down. I spent most of the evening trying to stay awake and gradually unpack.

It was a long day and I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed, but it wasn't too horrible. Lil Bit is still sleeping most of the flight and was pretty good. She was a bit crankier now that she is walking and was cooped up all day. I've got getting our boarding passes, checking bags, and getting through security down to a science. I even had my flights scheduled so that I just walked from one plane to diaper change onto next plane. We got on our first flight at 11 and were home by 2:30. If it weren't for the long drive to the airport and the anticipation of long security lines (no lines at all), it would have been a shorter travel day.

The hardest part was the last leg. When I got to the gate at DFW, I noticed a large group of soldiers. While seeing soldiers flying into Fort Hood isn't odd, a large group together is unusual. We smushed onto this very small airplane with crappy air conditioning and headed for home. The extremely warm temperatures cause a lot of turbulence especially for small, low-flying planes. It was really a rough flight from start to finish. I was sick the whole way. I was doing all I could not to throw up on the baby for 40 minutes. I was sweating profusely and shaking all over. I almost couldn't keep holding the baby because my arms were weak. I was so glad that she slept through it all. If she'd been squirming and fussing, I wouldn't have been able to deal.

But I was energized by the soldiers who literally surrounded me on the plane. They all wore the same Brave Rifles patch on their shoulders, meaning they are in 3rd ACR, my husband's regiment. I asked them if they were coming home just today. One of the soldiers said they were the Torch Party for 3rd ACR.

The Torch Party! That means they are returning to light the torch, pave the way, etc. for the return of 3rd ACR. While that doesn't mean my husband is coming home any sooner, it is a very concrete sign that he is coming home! I was surrounded by men who may or probably didn't have much actual contact with my husband, but were part of his mission in Operation New Dawn. Lil Bit kept reaching for the soldiers. She recognizes the material of the uniform from her daddy bear.

It was just neat to share our homecoming (despite the bumpy ride) with the men who are a part of Chad's regiment. I know they had a rough trip. Every leg of their journey was delayed and then the last plane ride sat on the runway without working A/C and ended up being awful. But they knew that when they landed, they'd be home. It was so exciting to get off the plane and see the people waiting for the disembarking soldiers. I saw one woman holding a very tiny little baby waiting for his dad.

It was a great way to end my vacation. Now I can spend the next three weeks or so getting ready for my guy's turn!!

Day 51: Independence Day

Today was bittersweet for me, and I'm sure many military spouses. Today we celebrate the freedom to practice democracy and our religion. Today we celebrate declaring our independence and winning the battle to become free.

Families and friends all over the country gathered today. Barbecue grills cast off tantalizing aromas of cheeseburgers and hot dogs. Small town parades started the morning. We watched the parade from my mother-in-law's front yard. Lil Bit was interested in the fire trucks and the bands. She waved to a few other floats, but got very hot quickly. I think her favorite part of the parade was the candy, rice crispie treats and pop-ice that were thrown by the parade participants. She ate a rice crispie treat and a pop-ice in the shade while Grandpa held her. She imitated the fire engine sirens and clapped along with the cheerleaders.

We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon barbecuing and eating. We had all sorts of goodies and lots of good times with great friends. Then we decided it just wouldn't be the Fourth of July without fire works, so we drove to a friend's house who came to our place for the parade and post festivities and watched the fireworks from her front yard. It was perfect. Lil Bit was pointing and signing "again, again" and "flower" which is a new sign that she just learned. But Grandma always says, "pretty flower" so when I tried to teach her a sign for pretty - she went to flower. For 14 months, she was amazing. She stayed awake the entire time, sat in my lap or arms and watched the amateur and professional fireworks for at least an hour.

But while we celebrated today, it wasn't far from my mind that the real reason we celebrate today is because of brave men and women who fought and still fight for our freedom. They decided to stand up against an unfair government, risk being hanged for treason or die in combat. Today, our military heroes stand up against tyranny and fear and say, no, this isn't how people should live, any people, any where.

Lil Bit's Daddy missed watching her real "first" 4th, since last year she was too little to understand or even really observe much of what was going on. She had a great day. And I held her in my arms, training her properly in the "ooohing" and "aaahhing" of fireworks' viewing, I got a little teary eyed. He missed it all. I talked with the kids about how their dad is defending our freedom today while we celebrate the gift that he and men like him have given us. They were quiet until Trenton wanted to know if Daddy got to watch fireworks in Iraq. When I said no, I didn't think so, that was when he looked really sad.

I hope you had a nice Independence Day. I hope your cookout was great with just the right dash of relish in the potato salad or paprika on the deviled eggs. But I really hope you took a moment today mentally to thank the veterans past and present and service members and their families for the sacrifices they make so we can watch mostly cheesy parades and have cookouts with run amok children splashing each other with water balloons and lemonade and brownies. Our freedom is always precious, but we sometimes take for granted what it took to gain it and what it takes to protect it and spread our values to oppressed people.

Happy Independence Day to you and yours, may your family be safely asleep under your roof tonight as I and many military wives around the nation pray desperately that no insurgents chose today to make a political statement with a rocket or bullet aimed at our husband. I have about a month left (it looks like they'll be shortening their tour a little bit) and my prayers are for his safe return daily. Remember me and my fellow wives in your prayers for peace tonight. 

Day 52: Once, twice

Sorry this didn't get posted last night. We had a long day and then the internet was acting wonky. Yesterday, we got to do something we haven't been able to do since January 1 and even then it wasn't very good - video chat.

On his mom's birthday, we tried to video chat. It was a disaster. We could hear him and he could see us. We could hear and see him and he got nothing from us. Then we could see each other, but not hear. It was really hard. His sons were crying because they missed their father so much and the web cam just wasn't working.

Because of some dishonest Iraqi businessmen, my husband had to upgrade to the $150 a month for hard line internet. The wi-fi guys took everyone's money for the month, shut down and took off. NICE! So now we're out $240 for one month of internet, but yesterday, we got to video chat for about 30 minutes.

It was great. He got to see me, both boys, Lil Bit, his mom and even my best friend Melisa who was visiting when he came on. It still wasn't the highest quality, but it was enough for us to hear each other fairly well and see most of the video feed.

I know people think all this new technology for keeping in touch is awesome (and it is), but you have to have the equipment, internet, money and time to be able to Skype or even Gmail chat. This was the first time in a week we'd actually even type chatted, and the first voice contact in two weeks.

He's been gone just about 11 months and we've webcamed twice for anything longer than a few seconds to see each other's faces before the feed cut out. It is a zillion times better than any conflict previous had, but still really hard on us not to have the ability to use such amazing technology.

I was so excited to see the joy in the kids' faces as they each talked to their dad, especially the baby who pointed at the screen and waved like her arm was on fire. It was pretty cool. We're hoping to do it all in person in just a few (HOPEFULLY SHORT) weeks!

Day 54: Fox hole

I don't know if you remember a TV show called Quantum Leap, but it was one of my favorites. The main character Sam time travels within his lifetime but into different bodies. He travels to each time to right something that went wrong in history. One of the episodes has been niggling at the back of my mind for a few days. It is called "The Leap Home."

In this episode, Sam travels back into his sixteen year-old self. He finally has a chance to right some wrongs in his own life. He wants to save his father from dying from smoking and his sister from eventually running off and eloping with an alcoholic, abusive man, but the serious wrong that he truly wants to correct is that his older brother was killed in Vietnam.

Near the end of the episode, he realizes that he can't change his own fate, but talks his brother into making a bet that if he wins the basketball game, on a certain date, he will crawl into the deepest, darkest fox hole in Vietnam and stay there until the day is over. Sam does make the shot and makes his brother swear.

The next part of the episode is Sam jumping into one of his brother's soldier's bodies in Vietnam. His brother is talking about the deal he made with his kid brother back home, but when they get called to go on a mission, his brother's sense of duty refuses to allow him to beg off the mission in which he will be killed.

While on the TV show, Sam is eventually able to save his brother, the reason this show has been haunting me is the promise. Just this last week, Chad's regiment has lost four soldiers. It is getting worse and worse. As they get to be short timers, sometimes, it feels like we're tempting fate. I get more nervous that fate will play an awful, cruel trick and take him weeks before he is supposed to come home.

He says the days are long and longer. He is tired and struggling. He goes to bed (when he gets to go to bed) each night praying tomorrow will be easier, and it never is. He is counting the days more than I am.

I keep wanting to tell him to find the deepest, darkest fox hole and climb in. Don't come out until it is time to come home. Even as I write it, I know he wouldn't. Oh, I am sure he has moments in which he is scared, but his sense of duty and loyalty to his troops would keep him going on the mission, especially if he knew the safety of his men was in question.

I love his sense of duty and honor. I love his bravery, but there are times I wish that I could persuade him to just hide! I can't imagine losing him. Night after night these past few weeks, I've dreamt about losing him to death or divorce, etc. My mind is playing into my fears and every morning, I wait until I hear from him.

I know he has a job. The most important job. He hates the things that take him away and some of the things he has to do, but he loves serving his country. I asked him before we married if he could do anything else and be fulfilled. I asked him if he could serve his time and get out. I would wait, provide him a home while he went to school and found a new job, but he couldn't do it. I knew that he didn't choose the army before me, but that he couldn't be happy if I asked him to be anyone other than himself.

I knew, but didn't know the life I had chosen would have such hard moments. I didn't know how much seeing his face in a picture would mean to me eleven months into a deployment. I didn't know how much, as I hear more and more women are getting the news that their soldiers aren't coming home, how it would break my heart for them and terrify me. So, Dear, if you are reading this, if the time comes where you are in danger and can do so without taking another soldier away from his family, please DUCK and crawl into the deepest, darkest hole until you can come home and my heart will be whole again. 

Day 63: Little things

I didn't hear from my husband today, but we did get the squadron newsletter. I usually try to scan the newsletter for a chance picture or mention of my husband, but have never seen much of him. A lot of times he isn't even mentioned. I even watch most of the squadron movies hoping for a glimpse of his face.

This time he was mentioned and pictured! "SSGs Coderellis and Defrates have been approved and
awarded the Order of Saint George for outstanding leadership in an Armored Cavalry formation." I think he mentioned the award awhile ago, but hasn't said anything recently about officially getting the award.

It does feel nice to hear that he is getting some recognition for his hard work. And seeing his smiling face in the picture was nice. It is one of those things people outside of the military community probably don't often think about, but I don't get to see recent pictures of my husband very often. I miss his face.

It is the little things that get to me. I miss his face, the way he smiles, the way his voice sounds. After over 300 days since he left for this deployment, there are days it is hard to remember what it is like to have him around. I forget the way it sounds when he walks in the door after work. I forget the way he smells when he holds me close. I struggle to remember the way his lack of organization makes me want to scream. I can't seem to remember how loud his snoring is or how he heats up the bed until I can't sleep.

All I can think about are the myriad of ways I miss him. Because the big things aren't really what you miss, it is the tiniest of details that make your heart break: the way his hand fits in mine, rough and calloused with gnawed fingernails, the way he chops vegetables and obsesses over his cooking, the way he watches hunting and fishing shows Saturday and Sunday mornings.

There are a few big things I miss too, the way he accepts me the way I am, loves the way I look, enjoys my sense of humor and seamlessly understands me. Either way, there are days I just realize how much I miss him. 

Day 65: Nightmare

Last night I had a dream that my husband was killed. In the dream, I was sitting in a room full of soldiers that served with him and he was there (kind of). He asked one of the soldiers to tell me about serving with him. That soldier turned to the rest of the guys and they started telling stories.

As dreams go, they jump around and I was back home trying to deal. I didn't know how to let people know or hadn't really even accepted it. I hadn't been informed officially yet, not sure how I found out. The dream was disjointed, but next people were bringing me food, offering to watch Lil Bit, but I couldn't process that he was gone.

It just didn't seem real. I couldn't grasp that the last time I heard his voice was weeks ago and would be the last time ever. I was doing something in the kitchen and it hit me that he was really for real forever gone. Then his little gmail chat icon turned green on the computer. I rushed to type, "Hey!" But it was just his roommate turning off his things. That was when any and all hope died. And I woke up.

It was all I could do to wait until morning to check for an email from him. I knew if I got up and opened computers, etc. it would wake the baby. I was sleeping very uncomfortably as it was and knew she probably was too with all the noises she was making. Somehow I made it until it was actually time to get up, but there was no email. It was going to be a long day until I heard from him.

I know it was just a dream, but it was very vivid. The emotions were very real. I would have been destroyed. Honestly until he is in my arms, I won't truly be able to completely not worry. Chad's life is in God's hands, and I shouldn't worry, but having faith that God's plan is best for me doesn't mean that he will come home. I will be checking the computer all day. I haven't heard from him since an email Saturday. It has only been 48 hours, but sometimes it gets hard to go so long, especially when he doesn't get much chance to call.

We finally got an email after lunch. He is very stressed out and exhausted, working on an hour or two of sleep for several days. He's had 36-48 hour periods of no sleep. Just ridiculous. I swear to God if he gets killed because we don't have enough troops there to do the job left to them, I will make the army wish they had never heard of me.

But he is alive today. We even got two minutes of video chat before the internet cut out. We got to see his face before the screen froze and he could see us. He got to see and hear his baby daughter being cute and cooperative. She said, "Dada" and pointed at the screen when she saw him. She did some of her new signs and tricks. Later we even took some time to chat for longer than usual.

But it is getting hard. I think as the time gets short, there is more pressure to get things done and he feels like I can just barrel through and make it until I get home, but I have a real fear for his safety and want every contact we can have. Plus, if he doesn't start calling more often, we get distant and he feels very far away from me. I have had enough of this far away b.s. I want him home.

My nightmare just solidified that I really love him, can't imagine my life without him in it. I know distance does make the heart grow fonder and six months from now, I may sound less rose colored about him, but I really do love him for the person he is and the joy he brings to my life and my heart. Plus, I can't wait to see what our life looks like as a family with our daughter. Her birth was so tied up in training and preparations for leaving that we didn't get a lot of time together before he went. Now, she is a full little person, replete with personality, which unfortunately she is demonstrating right now by refusing to lay down and go to sleep. I hear the new "children's" book narrated by Samuel L. Jackson in my head. If you don't know it, google it. Hilarious!!

Day 140: Surprise

If you are a faithful reader or close friend, you know this story. Even if you do, I like revisiting it from time to time, maybe you will too.

Five years ago today, I had had an awful day. My principal had been on my case for teaching the racy novel Dead Poets' Society. It is a long story, but suffice it to say it had been a stupid argument from a small minded man and I was struggling with tears as some friends of mine and I went out to lunch.

Every Thursday, we went out to eat instead of bringing our lunches. It was a nice tradition. I spent most of the meal upset. As we pulled into the parking lot, Kim said, "I'm sure your day will get better." I answered something like, "only if you can give me the winning lottery numbers." Everyone laughed and we went back to work. I did notice a few strange nudges and glances, but it didn't compute, so I ignored it.

I supervised detention that afternoon for a few extra bucks and headed home on a dreary spring day. I got about a mile from school when I noticed the sheriff's car behind me flashing its lights and siren. I pulled over to let him pass, and he stopped behind me. I was shaken and upset. Was I speeding? if I had been it was like 2-3 mph. I had been wearing my seatbelt. My tags were all current. I couldn't imagine why I had been pulled over, by the sheriff no less.

He walked up to the car slowly. I rolled my window down.

"Ma'am, we've had several reports about some strange activity in the area involving a green car like yours." I immediately knew he had to be color blind. The only person who thought my silvery purple car was green was Chad. I restrained myself from telling him the "my boyfriend is color blind too" story.

"But my car is actually purple." He ignored me. "But you know me, I taught Louie in class. I . . . " He cut me off. "You are still going to have to get out of the car, Ma'am." My eyes got wide, get out? They only make criminals and drug dealers get out?!

He walked behind me, talking into the radio on his shoulder, comparing my license with my plates. The imposing, stern sheriff asked me to stand facing the trunk of my car and place my hands on the trunk. Now I was scared. I noticed buses full of children passing me on the road and wondered if I would be fired for getting arrested. Then I noticed a man with a TV camera running across the road to get a shot of the action.

"Great, now I am going to be on COPS," I sighed mentally. I tried to let the wind blow my hair over my face so the footage would be hard to identify, but the sheriff yelled at me to face front. I heard his car door open and the radio playing. Of course it was playing Rascal Flatts "Bless the Broken Road" which is our song. My eyes felt prickly and I could feel tears starting to gather. I closed my eyes and willed myself not to start sobbing on camera.

I waited for the sheriff to warn me that I was about to be frisked when I felt a touch on my elbow. I turned around to find my boyfriend, Chad, standing there in his uniform home early from Iraq. I kissed him and hugged him, thinking he was going to get it once we were alone, that Poop ~ scaring me like that!

Then he started talking, like a speech. I was really confused. "It has been a long, bumpy, broken road for us to get here hasn't it?" What was he talking about? "But I'd take as many broken roads, as many miles as I had to, if I knew I had to do that to get to you." I was so emotional that he was here, in front of me, home, that I really still didn't understand what was happening.

Then the chorus of the song began to swell and Chad dropped to one knee pulling a box from his pocket. All of a sudden I got it, but then was kicking myself for not paying attention.

 "Jennifer, would you do me the honor of being my wife?" I nodded and think I mumbled yes. He slid this beautiful ring on my finger and kissed me. Then as we turned to face the crowd of people I hadn't noticed behind us, Chad pumped his arms in the air, "Woo!"

That story ran on the front page of the local newspaper the next day and the story aired the next day (Friday) on the local NBC station. By Saturday, we were getting calls from people we knew that it was playing on local NBC affiliates in other states. Sunday afternoon, his sister called us that she'd been scrolling through the channels and saw the story running on MSNBC. The story aired every hour for the entire day on national news.

It was an amazing whirlwind of R&R. We had an engagement party that evening and later that weekend for out of town family. We celebrated and enjoyed our celebrity. They came back and filmed our wedding for an update in 2006 for the end of the year story. And aired it again on our anniversary fall 2010, which happens to be Veteran's Day (not a coincidence). They reviewed the proposal and did an update which was a nice way to celebrate our anniversary this year with him gone. Wand TV - if you use the video search bar and search soldier proposal, the video is archived there.

It was a single word, "Yes" that changed my life, led me to leave a house, a tenured teaching position and my home state to follow this soldier first to Tennessee and then Texas and into an uncertain future, but full of love despite the challenges life and the ARMY throw our way.

Like I said that day, "I couldn't have pictured it [any of it] any better."

Day 147: Phew

Saturday afternoon, I was again the victim of my own poor planning and time management skills. I hate waiting for anything, so I tend to wait to get ready to leave until nearly the last second I can start and be ready to leave on time, which with a child is just flat unrealistic. We had a party to get to and with curlers in my hair, a bottle in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other cutting wrapping paper, the phone rings. I didn't have to look at the caller ID to know.

If my husband didn't have crappy timing, he'd have none at all. He always calls right after I crawl into bed or hop in the shower or walk out the door for a run. I hadn't heard from him since he left, so I didn't want to scoot off the phone too quickly, but I didn't want to be late either.

We talked for a couple of minutes and he told me he had just landed in Kuwait. This was 48 hours after his plane left home. It had been a long, convoluted journey due to a sandstorm in Kuwait and he had three more legs to his journey before he got to his station.

He said he would try to call again on Sunday so we could really talk, but he didn't. Then I didn't hear from him Monday or Tuesday in an email. Tuesday morning, I checked my email immediately and frequently, but nothing. I got home a little late yesterday and by the time I took care of the dog and baby, it was nearly 6. I noticed a new message on the machine. When I hit play, I heard "I am calling for the wife . . . this is Rear D. . . "

I knew they wouldn't call me if he were killed, but they would if he were injured. My heart was racing. The dog was bouncing all over the kitchen; in the living room the baby wass shrieking just to hear herself shriek. I had to play the message three times to hear that it was about our adoption credit paper work.

Phew!! But I still didn't know where Chad was or if he was safe (a relative term in combat, but ya know). Then this morning I was racing to get Lil Bit to daycare early for picture day but got stopped at THE longest light ever. To keep me from getting impatient, I checked email. Scrolling down the list, checking off junk mail to delete, I see the subject line, "hey" and sigh.

He is safe, sick and lonely, but safe back at his post. He is not much safer if any than he was traveling, but just hearing from him, touching base, made me feel immensely better. Many wives get daily phone calls, but I prefer not to. I just need to live my own life and waiting for the phone makes that hard for me. Often soldiers manage daily emails home, but sometimes he can't do that, so I try not to count on them. Yet, when I haven't heard anything for three-four days, a wrinkle starts to tickle my brain. I start trying not to start worrying.

The relief was noticeable. Even my students noticed I was in a good mood. Of course some of that is because I have had unprecedented GOOD behavior for the past two days. He is still in danger and I have no idea what he faced today, but for my peace of mind, I was able to breath a sigh of relief and know for today he was OK. And I can tick off one more day . . . 

Day 162: Pieces

Dear Army, can you please mail me the pieces of my husband that he has left in Iraq. No, all the physical parts have returned, but pieces of his heart and soul seem to be damaged or missing. After four deployments, I think the stress of constant battle, violence and being ripped away from his family repeatedly has finally started taking its toll.

This deployment has been hard on both of us. We have been trying to take some time to have some serious talks, but it is hard to break through the walls we put up around our emotions knowing we have to say good-bye so soon. We both feel a little numb. I know for me it is so hard to be alone over and over again so I have closed off a little bit because it breaks my heart so many times to let him go. For him, he goes through that and the horrors of combat and responsibility for his soldiers. Four years of that stress is a lot to hold onto or hide from.

The other night I finally got him talking. He rarely tells me stories about his deployments. Once he told me it was because he didn't want me to have to live with the horrible images he has had to. I think it is because the moments were so awful that telling me is tantamount to reliving them. I finally just hugged him and let him talk.

For personal and OPSEC reasons, I won't share here what he talked about, but I was shocked about the level of gruesomeness he has been exposed to and he only told me about his first day in country this year. It sounded like a horror movie to me. Unfortunately, my brain immediately pictured the scenes he described. In my arms, I listened to him talk and felt the years of being a guarded man, unwilling to submit to his own emotions, slip away. For a few minutes, I could hear the little boy in his voice and felt devastated that he has had to experience such moments of helplessness, witness such graphic events that we would rate his life NC-17 for fictional violence. What is a person supposed to do when confronted with REAL things no one should see?

He has been so strong so through so much and continues to be strong, but he can only hold onto so much before it changes him. He is afraid to feel anything good for fear of having to feel the bad. He does great with the kids because it is easy to laugh and play, but connecting with me, allowing himself to go into the deep places where our connection is, where our love lives, means opening the floodgates to all of his emotions.

He so meant to be a soldier. He was born to wear a uniform. He is so good at it, but he still has to deal with his emotions from time to time. He is great at bottling them up, but the bottle can only hold so much before it starts to leak. He has to be able to let go of some of these memories and feelings. All I know how to do is listen. For him, for me, for us, for our family I hope listening is enough. 

Day 191: Valentine's Day

Just a stupid, greeting card holiday, right? I don't need a day to tell my husband I love him or that he loves me. When we were dating, he was big gesture guy, sending me two dozen roses to school so I would have to show off my flowers to everyone. We've done romantic dinners and enjoyed them, but that doesn't really matter either. Today, my first email was a gift card for a spa day to use when he is home in a few weeks. I mailed him DVDs of all the videos of our daughter since he left. Considering the effort that went into figuring out how to make all my old tech work with the new, I spent a couple of weeks making those DVDs. It wasn't expensive, but hopefully he can come home feeling caught up on Lil Bit's growth and progress. We each make a gesture, but the same gesture we would make any day.

If today is important at all, it is because it is just another excuse to put someone else first. The new Hallmark commercials are really touching. I like the slogan that Valentine's Day is a day to say, "I love us." It is a very touching line. Someone on their ad team probably got promoted over that, but it did make me think.

Valentine's Day should be for celebrating US, not just the other person, but who that other person makes us be. I know my love for Chad, my respect for him, who he is brings out the best of who I can be. I think he feels the same for me. I may not be perfect, but he makes me want to try.

While we don't get to celebrate very many Valentine's Days together and I already know he will miss next year too, one of the things we can celebrate is how good we are at handling all the stuff the Army and life throws at us. So if you were lucky enough to share today with your someone special, I hope you wake up tomorrow and the next day and the next and give them 100% of everything you can everyday.

Still not feeling very good, so I will keep this short, but Valentine's Day was lonely for a lot of soldier's wives, a joyous celebration for the few whose husband's came home and a tearful good-bye for the wives who watched their soldiers deploy today. A friend of mine said she saw the tell-tale white buses driving toward the airport full of soldiers. I can't imagine why any general or whoever is in charge would make a soldier's departure day Valentine's Day. It seems like someone would think about how hard that would be and move it back a day. I don't know how things get decided, but our deployments are so routine now, someone had to have considered that flight plan and thought on some level, "who cares how hard that will be for the soldiers or their wives?" and then they wonder why soldier's commit suicide and why divorce rates keep rising. Stupid little things like taking them away for Valentine's Day, a stupid, greeting card holiday until you're alone again to "celebrate" it.

So tonight, I kissed my teeny Valentine good-night and will pray as I drift off that my other Valentine will come home safely to me always. I hope you take an extra second today to not take yours for granted. So much of life we take for granted not knowing what it is like to miss it. Army wives don't have that luxury, but on the bright side, we know what a precious gift our love is.

Day 243: Christmas Eve-1/3

Today is a hard day to be without him. Tonight as we light the tree, share a holiday meal, he won't be here. In fact, as we head to bed, awaiting Santa Claus for the first time, he will be waking up Christmas morning, cold and alone in the wet, sandy desert. He won't awake to the smell of homemade cinnamon rolls, fresh coffee and bacon, or the sounds of laughter and squeals as stockings' contents are dumped unceremoniously on the floor.

We will miss his warm smile and easy laughter tonight especially on this special holiday. It is one of so many firsts he will miss. And yet, today, Christmas Eve, also marks a milestone to celebrate. Today we are four months into this deployment, one-third of the way finished. Right now, that doesn't feel like very far. Somehow, when people ask me when he will be home and I say, "August", it feels like forever away.

While on a day to day basis I am so busy that the days feel like they're flying by, it also feels like it is dragging. My heart feels heavily hollow with missing him. It has been so long, I struggle to remember the rhythm to our evenings, the casual patterns to our weekends. We've done a really good job of talking on the phone and keep our relationship pretty normal, but I forget what it is like to have him home, sleeping next to me, waking me up with his kitchen clanking at 5 a.m., and laughing together until we can't breathe.

At least it is only almost two months to R&R, when he can come home for two weeks to visit. Those weeks are amazingly precious, but bittersweet. They are a reminder of what we're missing and the upcoming separation taints the whole break with the foreshadowing of good-bye tears. It literally is the best of times and the worst of times. You don't have to read Dickens to understand that sentiment if you're a military spouse.

So today, we celebrate the holiday surrounded by my mother, sister, brother-in-law and children and continue to count down to his return. Every day down is one less he is in danger, one less day to worry. I just wish he could be here now. Lil Bit in her reindeer "My 1st Christmas" pj's waiting for Santa is just too precious. She tried licking a few of my traditional cookies, got hopped up on formula and then didn't want to go to bed. She finally quit fighting it and crashed out. Almost midnight, so Merry Christmas everyone.

Remember if you're lucky enough to be with your loved ones today that not everyone is or can be. When Crazy Uncle Fred asks you to pull his finger, or your mother tells you the turkey is dry, or your sister goes on and on about how amazing her life is compared to yours, that being irritated by family is still a blessing. My best friend is always in my heart and on my mind, but I would rather he were a little closer to my arms! Today as you celebrate, send up a prayer for the safety and protection for all our soldiers stationed away from family or in combat.

Day 289: Sick

I have no immune system, never really had one. I was sick a lot as a kid, and now spend all day everyday around germy, snotty kids. I get sick a lot. Plus I have ALLERGIES, 24/7 which means my sinuses are a mess on a good day and ripe for conquest by any opportunistic bug.

I got sick last week and have no time to slow down or rest and it just keeps getting worse. I should have stayed home today. I really should have taken Lil Bit to daycare and stayed home to sleep. I am so sick I am miserable. I can't think, my voice is gone and all I want to do is take a nap. But I ache so much that sleep is kind of wasted too.

Yesterday I spent the day feeling SO rotten and not knowing what to do about it. I ate dry cereal from the box for breakfast. Lunch, mmmmmm, might have been a brownie from party leftovers if anything. It was one of those days I didn't even want to call someone. Complaining about it wasn't going to make it any better and calling my mom wasn't going to magically transport her to my house. I needed my mommy yesterday. I needed someone to bring me soup and crackers and watch the baby so I could nap. She just didn't really nap yesterday. She kind of "crap" naps, little 20-30 minute naps, which are not long enough to do anything for me except make me feel drowsy.

I have a horrible cough and sore throat and just overall feel like poop. I just feel so helpless. I can't do anything. Usually I could take a weekend and sleep to get over it, but with Lil Bit, no such luck. I have to just keep pressing on. I have a training tomorrow and will be absent from class already so I didn't want to miss today. Plus, I am trying to save the few sick days I have left for my surgery and Chad's R&R. I want to be able to be home with him the whole time he is home. You would think that after three or four major separations, it would get easier to go to work when he is home, but that isn't really the case. The longer he is gone, the more time I feel cheated from spending with him and those two precious weeks are even more important.

I just feel so helpless. My husband is expecting a package. In this packaged I promised to send him pictures and a video CD of the baby. I don't even know how to edit the videos or get them onto discs. I spent the entire night trying to find a stupid USB cable to hook up video camera to the computer, only to realize the port I was trying to use wasn't the USB hook up, it was the AV hook up. Finally got it plugged in and couldn't get it to make a disc. I could make a picture CD for him, but not a video cd. I don't know what the difference is or why it won't work, but I am exhausted, have started coughing with a deep throaty painful cough and my ears hurt and my doctor left his practice last week. I got the letter he was leaving two days after his last day. THAT was handy!


It was definitely a Monday. I miss my husband. I miss having someone around. A lot of people take that partnership for granted. I probably do from time to time, but if nothing else, this year of single mommyhood will decrease the likelihood of that happening again. Mommies don't get sick days. And when you follow a soldier from post to post, sometimes there isn't anyone to watch your dog or hold the baby or bring you soup.

No big lesson today, sometimes there is no answer, no solution, you just have to "soldier" through and hope things improve. No matter what, they will change, so do what you can to make them be better. On that note, Nyquil, here I come. Pillow, you're next!

Day 366

          So . . . here it is. After months of looming, the day is finally here. His last day at home before leaving for Iraq, AGAIN. I try not to cry when I ask my principal if I can leave a few minutes early at the end of the day. I decide that supportive smiles are good, but not sure they are worth the pitying looks from my acquaintances who are at varying levels of understanding about what I am about to go through and really have been going through for months. We live near a military base; people, for the most part, get it, but unless you have gone through it and sometimes even unless you've gone through it more than once, the nuances of the challenges of this military life escape even the most sympathetic friend. By the end of the school day, I teach high school, I am ready to race home and take off my heels and see Chad, but there is an aura surrounding our exchanges. So many words hang in the air, unsaid but felt, back and forth. He wants to tell me so many things, but his mouth can't seem to juggle the marble ideas in his head and spit them out. Instead he grasps my fingertips with my arms wrapped around the baby and whispers, "I love you." And takes her, wanting his last few minutes with her too. By the time he sees her again, she will be crawling, maybe even walking. Today she smiles and is working up to giggling, but is still very much a newborn. When he comes home, she will have celebrated her first birthday and be several months closer to the next one. I watch him feed and snuggle her. Her whole faces explodes into a Cheshire grin when he smiles at her. I am worried that his leaving will subconsciously make her feel abandoned by men or sad even though as an adult, she will never remember this year without her daddy. I will have each day etched across my heart.


He wants to eat at his favorite sushi place. I think raw fish should still be swimming in someone's tank, but I concede. He is leaving his home and heading to a place he affectionately (read sarcasm) calls "the armpit of the world" or "prison" depending on his mood. I will be lonely and sad, and probably sleepless, but I can eat at my favorite place whenever I want, so I acquiesce. We have sushi and spend some time on the couch after dinner watching TV, because even though, in my head, I have plenty of emotional time bombs to drop and make this evening special, electric, etc. I don't really know what to say. If we haven't loved each other enough all year long, the next ten minutes or just the right phrase, won't fix it. We almost say nothing as we start to discuss the most ridiculous news headlines of recent days. The laughter pulls us together. We laugh and want to fall asleep, but he has to go inspect barracks, so we kiss goodnight. His goodbye is only for a few hours yet, but the word tastes bitter on my tongue. I fall asleep and wait to wake up at four to say good-bye. The dreams are frantic and jumbled images, some with him and some where he is already gone. At some point I reach across and he is there and I am tempted to stay awake just to memorize the safe warmness of him, but drowsiness wins and I crash back into slumber.

He wakes just before four and I get up to say goodbye. Some wives will take the morning and go to sit in the gym bleachers, hear all the speeches, etc. but I have to get to work and can't see waking the baby this early will help her stay in this new routine we're trying to develop, so we decided that good-bye is the same whether we say it now or in two hours. Besides I don't have to have a brave face for anyone at home. I cry ugly sobs when the minute comes. I am really trying here, but you can't capture the horrible lead weight in my chest feeling with words. I tell him to come home and be safe. And he is gone. I stumble around the house picking up cast off items that didn't make the final duffel bag. I finally drop back into bed for an hour or so before my first day as a single mom commences.