Day 14: 40

Well, the day I've been worried about, anticipating, dreading or just planning is here. I'm 40.




Phew, had to leave some room for thought after that declaration. Yuck. I'm old. I know 70 is still pretty young really in our day and age, but my body is definitely letting me know that I'm not 20. In my head, I still feel somewhere between 28-33, until I look at someone 25 and think, "Was I that stupid when I was . . ." Those thoughts tend to put things in perspective.

My knees ache, my hips have bursitis! and I have varicose veins in my legs. I will (without hypno-therapy) never have a beach body ever again, unless you count a whale as being beach ready. I am just not the same person I was when I turned 30.

I think I dreaded 30 more because that was really a line between childhood and adulthood, being part of the youth versus the untrusted OLD Farts. In some ways 40 might be freeing. I know I'm not hip with the high school crowd and can feel free let them know that they need to get hip with me cuz I don't care if they think I'm cool.

I don't know how really to feel about it. We all want to stay looking young, but enjoy the wisdom experience and age brings. Would I want to be 25 again? Only if I could do it knowing what I know at 40!  I really just wanna have the body of a 25 year old, not actually have to go back and redo anything.

Today wasn't the best birthday. I woke up to disappointment. My email held a heartbreaking update on my honey's status. He was supposed to be in my arms in 7 minutes. But the email said his flight had been significantly delayed. I was so disappointed. I spent the day trying to put on a brave face.

I took the boys to a local touch a truck event (with baby and gp's in tow). We went to TCBY Waffle Cone Wednesday for lunch. My mother-in-law and I had pedicures scheduled for after lunch, then we ran errands, and went to buy my birthday present. I really wanted to upgrade my cell phone to a new iPhone. It was pricier than I thought when I went to check them out a few weeks ago.

Then she and I went out for drinks and appetizers. I had a big drink called a painkiller. Carrying around a slightly bruised, if not broken heart, I needed a painkiller. They wrote on the menu that each patron was limited to two per visit. I had one and a few sips of another and knew why. I finished the rest, but certainly understood why two was plenty.

I spent the rest of the night fiddlin' with the new phone. We watched "Soul Surfer" which does tend to put my issues in perspective. My husband is alive. He is coming home. My family is all currently healthy. I have beautiful children and an amazing husband/best friend.

I realize that I've learned a lot in these past 40 years. I've grown up and learned who I am. And I've started to realize that I don't have the time or energy to care if people like me. I would rather spend my time with people who like me than trying to persuade people who don't, and I definitely don't want to waste a minute more of my life being around people who hurt my feelings or make me feel like I'm less somehow than they are.

I might be crankier, more impatient, achier, and much more set in my ways, but I'm also much calmer, more focused, able to prioritize, and more content with myself. 40 isn't the same as 21, full of hope and promise, but it is full of confidence, competence and contentedness. My birthday wasn't the celebration I wanted, but maybe I realized that the date on the calendar doesn't matter any more than the number on the driver's license. I can celebrate again when he gets here and again when our friends come and this can be a week long party, and I don't have to be old just because I'm not young. Maybe that is why they call it middle age, you're too old to be young, but too young to be old.

When I turned 30, I thought it was going to be hard, but I loved my 30's. I've heard the 40's are even better. You're old enough to care about the right things, and too young to worry about a lot of other things. And I have no idea how much time I have left, I'd rather not spend much of it worrying at all. I'd hate to get hit by a bus and have wasted so much time I could have been living worrying about what people thought or if people liked me. Maybe 40 is the decade where you learn to care enough about the opinions of others not to be socially unacceptable, but not enough to keep allowing yourself to be taken advantage of. 

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 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 230: CAB and sleep

So last night, as I am hurrying to finish my blog and head to bed, I see my husband is online. We get to chatting. He tells me that his CO kept him from going on a mission due to the bruised bone in his finger. His truck was hit by an IED during that mission. No one was hurt, I guess it wasn't very bad, but he was frustrated at not having been there. He is worried after four tours in Iraq that he hasn't earned a Combat Action Badge. His concern is that without a CAB he will not be promotable to the next rank.

It is already past 11 o'clock, the baby has been up twice a night every night all week and now I am relishing a chance to chat before he goes to gunnery training and is out of communications for a week or so. He then worries me with limited info about conflicts. He has to maintain OPSEC, but tries to keep me somewhat in the loop. I miss hearing about his day to day. It is really hard not being able to talk about what happens to him on a daily basis. While I want him to be able to talk to me, I think it is normal to be scared when he tells me about bombs, rockets, mortars, and such.

We didn't get to say good-bye. The MWR computer crashed once during chat and we got to start again, but the second time all connection is lost, it is lost for good for tonight. But now I can't sleep. This is way too many close calls recently. It may just be my perception of danger, but it sounds like it is a lot more dangerous than it was previously. Maybe he just trusts I can handle more of the truth this time. I am not sure which is the case, but perhaps a little of both.

Being ill this week has meant I am more run down and tired. Then the baby is up twice a night, every night and is not readjusting to daycare well. I just sank onto the floor and held her until it was bath/bed time last night. Nothing got done. I am swamped at work and can't grade any papers at home with a baby who demands constant attention or is pulling up and falling over constantly. I am struggling to get up each morning, have too much responsibility at work and am wiped out. Hearing about so many close calls is making me very emotional. I am just having a rough time. I couldn't sleep. I was too hyped up with concern.

He is worried that not having a CAB will keep him from getting promoted. I worry that he won't come home. I don't know how well I will sleep tonight. If being exhausted is any indicator, maybe sleep will come easier, but I think I will spend the rest of this deployment on pins and needles waiting every day to hear he is alright. It will be a very long 8 months.

Day 239: Rockets

Yesterday, I waxed less than poetic about how much I love my husband and don't know how well I would be able to survive without him. While I do survive without him every other year, it really is a countdown. I let certain things go, like the lawn or the pool or my hair style. I tough it out through day after day because I know it is temporary.

Then I get an email like I did today. I was driving with his boys back from picking up the dog from the kennel. She actually didn't seem too traumatized, which is nice. At a stoplight, I checked to see if I had an email from him. I was so excited, until I read it.

"i have had a rough 24 hours. last night i almost got hit by a rocket so needless to say i had to spend the whole night out investigating the sites they shot from then this afternoon cut my thumb pretty bad."

I could feel my chest get tight. I deliberately didn't say anything to the boys, but it was hard to finish the drive home. I just told them that their dad cut his thumb and was having a rough night.

I almost lost him forever last night, or yesterday our time. I don't even know what to say about that.  He almost was killed . . . so now I sit and just turn that over in my mind like a polished worry stone my dad used to turn in his hands as he thought. I don't know how I got through the rest of the day with that information in my mind except that Dadve's brother and SiL came in for the night and things got pretty crazy between my MiL and Dadve, Al and Pat, my SiL Megan, the boys (12 and 11) and baby with holiday stuff and unpacking happening. I didn't have a lot of time to ponder. We played a lot of Kinect games. 

But now, as I try to fall asleep, I worry. I haven't heard from him again since the email at 11 pm his time which probably means he crashed out after a very long night and had a busy day preparing to go to his other duty station, but I will worry until I hear from him again.

When I think about rockets, I think about that silly song from the seventies, "Sky rockets in flight . . . " and 4th of July and space travel. I don't want to think about losing the most important half of me. I still don't know how to process the fact that he almost died, if I even can. 

Day 284: Letting go

I always try to stay three steps ahead of everything. This week I was too sick to care about much past my own snot filled nose. Just getting through each day required such an amazing over the counter cocktail of medication. I couldn't keep my usual pace. In stead of freaking out, it was such a great relief to slow down and let things go.

I spend a lot of time being a terminal worrier. The world is a crazy place with out of control stuff happening everyday. I have always tried to control every variable possible, as if I can stave off disaster by taking care of every little pile of junk mail or correctly folding the tiny socks into perfect pairs. I hate being out of control, looking out of control. This week I couldn't keep up the facade. It was all I could do to get to work everyday. I had to learn to let things go.

Honestly, I don't know how much I will really be able to change. I have spent about 39 years being a tad OCD, but it was so great to spend more time in the moment. I spent more time on the floor laughing with the Lil Bit, covered in spit up and drool. I know there are things that need to be done and every night I take off is work I am piling up for later, but there has to be a better way than spending every second running around. Lil Bit is growing up too fast and I am missing too much of it already.

I may be functioning around a few precarious piles of stuff, but my head aches and my throat hurts and I can barely think straight. I just don't have any more to give. Whatever energy I have has to go to Punkin Butt. She has been great. She took a nice long nap this morning, and so did I. Another long nap this afternoon let me get laundry folded. I have all her clothes for the week laid out and ready to go, matching socks and bibs too. Just taking a second here and there to do little things can give me some more freedom to feel a little less pressured.

Also, my wonderful husband told me not to worry about the yard and pool while he's gone. At least I feel like I can spend less time worrying about the fact that I don't have time to take care of one more thing. The holidays are coming and I will have plenty to stress about, but I am going to do my best not to let things get to me and what gets done, gets done. The house may not always be clean or picked up. I will try to keep it clean or picked up. This week it is still clean from the scrubbing it got last week, but not as picked up as I would like. But I am starting to feel crappy again and getting better and being a good mom has to take precedence.

I still have guilt about not doing everything perfect all the time, but I'm doing my level best to ignore it. And you know what, I think I'll sleep just fine, even if it takes two doses of cough syrup.