Surviving Christmas Without My Soldier

As I write this, Dec. 24, 2009 is ticking away. Tomorrow my children will wake and come running to see what Santa brought them. I will be beaming and full of love, camera in hand as usual. Everything will "seem" normal, but three hearts here and a heart 4000 miles away will know the difference.

It has been very hard to push through the Christmas season knowing that our soldier would miss it. My kids have been so great about keeping their chins up and just enjoying the moments with mom. Time keeps going regardless, and the Army steals so much already. I can't, WON'T, give them my time with my children too.

Survival of this season has meant savoring the small things, and making big deals out of small moments. We have shared more than our fair share of hot cocoa, tried hot apple cider, and played board games. Anything and everything we could do to stay busy and just enjoy each other. I love this season, and I love that the Army has taught us to soak moments like this up.

My kids have really been a source of joy and love this season. They are both so strong and amazing. I could never fully express how very proud I am of them and their steadfast courage in their Dad's absence.

I can however tell you that we have a special moment planned. They have trudged through this season thinking that Dad wouldn't be home until January. In the 16 years he has been in the Army, and 13 we have been married, this is the first Christmas missed. We have been very blessed.

Plenty of tears were shed when they learned he wouldn't be able to make it for Christmas this year. My 11 year old wanted to visit Santa to ask that Dad have a good Christmas. :) My tough kiddos even agreed to wait and open the gifts from Mom and Dad when Dad gets home...in January.

Our children will be so surprised when Daddy greets them at the airport soon. I have them convinced that they are going to the airport for a field trip. Just something to keep us "busy" during the Christmas break and take our minds off Daddy being gone. :) I cannot wait to see their smiles when they see their soldier.

I cannot wait to hold my soldier in my arms.

That is how I have survived this Christmas season. All of my thoughts and energy have been centered on pulling off this ruse and filling my kids with a joy that they will remember for the rest of their lives. There is no better gift. Even Santa can't beat this!

Merry Christmas everyone!

"Mom said WHAT?"

I don't know how many Army separations this one makes for us, it seems I have lost count. One thing seems to always hold true, and this time, I decided to do something about it.

When my husband leaves, he says goodbye to a person that closer resembles a lady, and inevitably comes home to a "sailor". I don't know what happens, and it isn't something I am proud of. I think the stress of "doing it all" just absorbs the creative use of words and leaves me with nothing but ick. Quick responses are easily spit out in haste without forethought and never good for little ears.

Well, this deployment, I am (WE are) doing something about it. To set a better example for the little ears that live here, and to encourage them AND myself to better ourselves through self expression, we came up with a "cuss jar" for mom. Every time I say a "word" I have to put in 5 cents. At the end of the week, they get to split the money. Everyone that reads this will know that kids would LOVE their mom to establish a jar for their flaws.

The jar is working though. I don't get a chance to slip up without one of my kids running to my room and grabbing a nickle from my change jar to throw it into the"cuss jar". It really does make me stop and think before I slip. I also must admit that I DO in fact put in the change for the words I say even when they are not within ear shot. (Yes Jamie, I paid them for my slip ups yesterday.) My conscience eats at me other wise.

This jar is about me. It is about making me happier with myself, and making me feel better about my job as a mom. My kids know that adults can say things they cannot, but I think they also need to know that adults can want better for themselves too. I am hoping this lesson will carry them through a rough stage in their lives, when they wake up to realize they haven't been all that they want to be for themselves. After all, we're all human...

Welcome to "The Great Place"

Just the other day as I walked into my home, I thought about those crime shows. The part where the victim of a break-in never feels safe again in the comfort of their own home in particular. I don't know what brought about my thoughts on this. I remember wondering if I would be able to get used to living in a home again in this situation. I wondered about my personal strengths and whether I would have that fortitude.

Yesterday, the Ft Hood community became that victim. Every heart and every core was shaken. None more than those directly affected by the tragedy, but as a whole, the community walked through that door and found we had been victimized.

Left breathless and full of questions, the hours ticked to night, and then, a new day arrived. The community pulled together, some gave blood, some donations, some prayed, and we ALL carried on. Our house may have been victimized, but we have not been victims.

I am proud to be part of the Army family, and I am proud of how the Ft Hood community proved we have the fortitude to keep going.

The next time you are welcomed to "The Great Place", you will know that WE are what makes this place great.

Never forget.

Today as I visited my favorite military spouse support site (http://www.militaryspousesupport.net/boards/), I came across a posting of a spouse asking why she was so angry. She was asking for support because every time her soldier calls home, she hangs up feeling upset and regretful that he had even called.

Immediately she began getting the support she was looking for. Spouses rallied around her posting, assuring her it was perfectly normal. So, why is it, we all feel so guilty for those thoughts?

There are books out there that will free you of guilt from everything you might regret, but not thoughts such as hers (ours). To some it would seem cold and wrong to think that it might be better if the soldier just didn't call home. While they have a right to their own opinion, truth of the matter is, this is a much deeper issue than the soldier and that phone call home. She truly isn't saying she doesn't want to hear from him.

My response to her post was about resentment. As I have gotten older, in our Army life, I have come to realize that my feelings about things are deeper than surface. In the beginning, I would have felt guilty for these thoughts as well. Who am I kidding? I did. I would have thought I was wishing I didn't have to talk to my soldier. However, that is not what is being said here. In truth, the feeling of anger that comes after only being allowed to talk to your soldier for 30 minutes while they are deployed 4000 miles away for a year, is not anger AT the soldier. It is just easy to apply it to them because they are tangible.

I have discovered, that my anger is actually hurt. Hurt that is fed by the resentment of time; time that is passing. Time that we will never get back. As Army spouses, we spend the better part of 24 hours a day without hearing from our soldiers. Not for just one day. We do this for 365 days a year, sometimes more. Imagine trying to share your life with someone in 30 minutes of time. Think of what it might be like to try to connect with someone emotionally in that window. Now, think of trying to keep a living, vital marriage alive with that small fragment of time. Even the strongest marriages are tested.

The key is always to look deeper at your feelings. Chances are you will find that your hurt and anger are aimed at the wrong subject. Once you can see the picture clearly, it will help you to overcome those feelings and see past the guilt.

When it gets to be too bad, it also helps to remember that military spouses before us, had a much harder time. Internet and 30 minute phone calls home would have been like winning the lottery for them.

Through the knowledge of their strength, we can be fortified.

The Time Traveler's Wife

I have seen the previews for this movie numerous times. Usually, I just think it looks like a good film to take in with friends for a girl's night out. Today though, I really gave thought to the story line. A woman who is in love with a man, who leaves for fragments of time, some unexpectedly.

I then realized how much military spouses have in common with this story. We live with "time travelers". I know for me at least, I often feel like my time with my husband is spent in fragments, pieces of time.

The time we have together is treasured. I find myself always doing what I can to soak up the warmth in those moments because I know I will need the memories to live through our lost years. Years... seems so unthinkable to most to spend that amount of time apart.

In one of the previews, Rachael McAdams's character looks at her husband and says "I never had a choice." I didn't either. This man, my husband, was put here on Earth for me. There is no doubt. There has never been a doubt about the graviational pull we had for each other. We twirled around each other's lives for years, crossing paths, barely missing each other. Unknowingly, being pulled into each other's orbit for a chance meeting at just the right moment.

I don't know how the movie ends. From the previews, the one thing that is certain, is the great love shared between the two. One that surpasses any amount of time spent apart. He aches for the pain he causes her, by leaving far too often, and she pangs from the loneliness and heartbreak of saying goodbye.

As for our story, I am sure my husband and I will continue to dance in and out of each other's lives. Living in the moments that we are together. Allowing the fervor to sink in, all the while knowing, soon he will leave with the stroke of a clock.

Until then, here I sit, waiting, for my "time traveler".

To drink from his cup

Today started out like any other day. I woke up, dragged myself from the bed, and fed the many critters we have here. The morning air was nice in comparison to the heat of the day we have for the afternoon feedings.

Everything was going great. I even made a pot of coffee today. Not really a big deal, but lately the heat has caused me to stop craving hot coffee in the mornings.

So, the coffee is brewing, the birds are singing, the sky is blue, and I am making pancakes for the children as they sleep away the early hours of the day. As the coffee pot reaches the end of it's brewing cycle, I reached for the cabinet where we keep our collection of coffee mugs. This is where my day took a slight detour.

In the mornings, I tend to have tiny discussions with myself over which cup to use. I understand that for most, this is a non-issue. For me though, my mood for the day plays a BIG role in what cup I drink coffee from. You would really be surprised to know the depth of thought and meaning to each cup.

One cup I still have, I borrowed from a friend, whom I admire and think of as I drink from it. I like this one on the mornings I need to remember that I have good friends and today is going to be a great day.

Another, I was given while working at a place that I loved, and had to leave far to soon. This particular cup inspires thoughts of future success and furthering myself so not only will my family be proud of me, but I can be proud of myself. I use this one on the mornings when I need to be reminded that it is okay to want something for myself too.

The Looney Toons cup I have that has my name on it, was bought for me by my children and my husband while on a get away to Fiesta Texas. On mornings when I feel like I need a vacation, this cup is perfect. I remember how happy my kids were that they got to buy me something from that theme park.

I have two cups that come in handy when I am having days that I feel strongly about our Army life. One says "Army wife, toughest job in the Army". This cup, well let's just say I use it when I am less than THRILLED with the Army. As you can imagine, this cup gets used A LOT during deployments! My other Army cup says "Proud Army Wife". I use this one more so when my husband is home and near me. I love for him to know I am so very proud of him and his service to our country.

On this morning however, I wouldn't feel like using one of my many "mental" cups. Instead, I found myself reaching for one of my husband's. This morning, I needed to drink from his cup because his lips were last there. In some weird way, drinking from his coffee cups feel like stealing a kiss. So, my guilty and somewhat twisted confession of the day is that in a desperate to be close moment, I drink from my husband's coffee cup.

Honey, I miss you something awful. For now, your cup will do, but I look forward to kissing you...

It wouldn't be a REAL deployment...

In life, I have always believed that when you go through rough times, you are being tested. In my life, these "tests" seem to stack up one on top of the other the moment my husband's boots leave the house.

Less than 30 days into this monster deployment, and I have already had to prove my abilities in resourcefulness time and again.

My first real challenge came in the form of a goat getting his head stuck in the fence. Nothing is more fun than being scolded by a neighbor because I was in the house and couldn't hear the goat hollering. I guess that neighbor's walls are much thinner than mine. Of course this is the same neighbor who said he rang my doorbell. I was in the house and had nothing on but my computer. 10 ft from the door and I didn't hear the bell ring. Oh wait... maybe it did and I just tuned it out. Oh yes, and my kids, the ones that run to the door like a pack of chihuahuas unleashed every time someone knocks or the door bell rings, also had the audacity to ignore the bell. You know, it has always been my goal to leave one of our PET goats hung in a fence to suffer. (I say this 110% sarcastically.)

Anyhow, after a few more days of pondering what to do, I got it! (I did have some inspiration from another neighbor across the street! One that was a lot more understanding and HELPFUL!) I went to Wal-Mart and bought a wooden plunger for $2.17 and a roll of Gorilla tape. What on Earth could I be doing with this you say? Well, I cut the wooden handle in half. This made it the perfect size for a "goat hat". I taped the stick good, then placed it under the goat's horns, attaching it with the Gorilla tape to the horns. Now, my little goat looks like a practice roping bull. The cool thing, he can't get his head through the fence! Take that scolding neighbor!

I do have to mention here how badly I felt for the goat. When I put the "goat hat" on him, he didn't understand what was going on. He looked like an embarrassed little boy. He tipped his head, ran and hid in the shelter, and like a cat trying to get his collar off, scratched at the hat. I literally had to go into the shelter and pet and love on him to convince him that it was okay. His pride was so hurt. He just put his head in my lap as if to say "Why? Why do I have to wear this?" Now though, it has just become an extension of him, and he doesn't notice anymore. Sometimes in life, we have to do things to protect those around us. His pride is not nearly as important as his life. I would rather he look funny, than to find him sick or dead from being stuck in the fence in the heat of the Texas sun.


Adventures In Deployment Tests #2, A Newly Planted Tree

The only thing goats like better than grass, is trees. My husband and I had worked to wrap all of our new trees with wire before he left in order to prevent the goats from eating them. Well, one tree didn't get the posts it needed to hold the wire upright. For a long time, the wire simply being there was enough to dissuade them from attacking it. Not anymore! They are 20lbs heavier and better climbers. They figured out that they could stand on the wire, and mush it down to get to the tree. Ever try convincing goats to get down and stop eating... Let's just say, I learned where the term "stubborn old goat" comes from.

It is 8PM, the Texas sun is setting, the mosquitoes are biting, and I have to devise a plan to protect this tree. My kids were helping by corralling the goats away. After failed attempts with twine and the ground being too hard to get tent posts into, I began looking for other "tools".

Now dark, we go through 2 flashlights...and the mosquitoes are STILL biting! Then, I remember the pop up tent toys my kids once had. The design is simple to understand, I need something to push the wire apart and keep it taught. POLES! I need POLES!!! It was time for a slow walk through my husband's garage. After all there had to be SOMETHING in there. He saves every spare piece of wood or craft he works with.

I FOUND IT! I FOUND WHAT I NEEDED! An old flag pole, and an old curtain rod. The idea was simple! Build an "x" on the inside of the wire, with the ends of the poles pushing against the wire to keep it strong and from bending in. What would I use to keep the ends of the poles in place? Well, test #1 had some leftovers. GORILLA TAPE! Voila! At least I thought...

The very next day, my cute little girl goat figured out that she could "shoulder" the wire over close to the tree. So, yeah the wire wouldn't bend in around the tree, but they could push it closer to the tree. In essence I built them a movable ladder to get to the top.

What to do now? PINS! PINS IN THE GROUND TO HOLD THE WIRE IN ONE SPOT! Easy right? Where do you get pins at 8PM at night. (Notice how they wait until it is too late for a trip to the hardware store?) This answer was actually easier than the rest. I found some spare wire and cut pieces to bend into "U" shapes. I used them to tack down the wire so that it won't move. BRILLIANT!

Of course I am just waiting for the day that the goats figure out how to fly or sling each other over the wire...

The Refrigerator Test

A deployment wouldn't be a deployment without something expensive breaking. Saturday night, my refrigerator quit. I had just had a discussion with a friend about how I was praying it would hold until my husband's R&R at least. Apparently the fridge had other ideas. At 2 AM I am throwing everything I could fit into my husband's mini fridge. Not a whole heck of a lot fits in there by the way, but you would be amazed at how I packed it.

Yesterday, I did go suck it up and buy a new one. OUCH! That was money I wasn't planning on spending. After coming home, and taking a nap, I got used to the idea and let go of my "money pains". (Those that know me, know I don't spend money well. Big purchases make me ill.)

I don't know what made me do it, but I decided to plug the old fridge back in. Guess what... the compressor was working again. WHAT?! I just spent all of that money, and the old fridge is going to work? NO WAY!

I have condiments and veggies in an ice cooler, and the fridge is going to work? What kind of a cruel universe is this?

My only saving grace was Google. I decided to look at parts for my fridge. I found that the "main board" needs to be replaced. For less than $200 I can fix this fridge. However, I have already ordered the new one and set it up for delivery. If I were to cancel it now, I would have to pay a 15% restocking fee. NO THANK YOU!

So my plan now, is to store the old fridge in the garage. I plan to save it as a post deployment "test" for my hubby. After all who doesn't need an extra fridge every once in a while?

All I know is being tested sucks, but in the same sense, they remind me that I CAN do this! Anytime I am tested and I come up with a solution, I feel stronger.

I know that I am not the only Army wife that is tested. I know that I am not the only Army wife that kicks the crap out of these "tests".

We are all way more than Army strong, we are Army WIFE strong, and we are PROUD of it!

If I send a care package, it will be real...

The obvious issue here is this deployment IS real, and has been real for exactly 16 days for us. Sixteen days that feel like 3 months already.

Last deployment, I had a care package and cards sent out by this time. This time, I find myself avoiding it. Soon I will send one out, but for now... it isn't real if I haven't mailed anything. At least that is what my brain is saying.

We have a basket set up, collecting artwork and things that the kids want to send to dad. I have my boxes, tape, and labels that I need. I just don't have to guts to put it all together and mail it. I am afraid I will have a breakdown at the post office. Then what kind of a nut will I look like? By the way, it wouldn't be the first breakdown I have had at a post office.

During the last deployment, I met a lady in the post office while standing in line. As we began chatting, I realized she was the "hug lady". My husband had told me all about her. She volunteers on post and is at every deployment to hug the soldiers as they board the plane. Her simple action really makes an impression on the soldiers. I know it meant a lot to my husband. Anyhow, long story short, realizing who she was, I attempted to tell her thank you. Instead I ended up a blubbering fool in the line at the post office. Funny thing is, I got a hug too. :) While I appreciated the hug, I would like to avoid any future public displays of emotion. (a.k.a. Reasons to classify me as mental)

Soon I will make my way to the post office, care package in hand. Packed full of love and warmth from home, and goodies to brighten my husband's long days in Iraq; that box will carry with it the first of the tiny shards of my heart that I have left. Each box that follows will carry their own shards, until he returns and brings my heart back to me, full and complete.

Lessons learned...

My first lesson of pains as a military wife was back in 1998. My husband and I were expecting our first child, and he was headed to Korea for a year long unaccompanied tour. We had just celebrated our first anniversary. Before leaving, he had to go to BNCOC course to get pinned with his E-6. The Army wasn't letting him come home to say goodbye either.

We took our turns, him mostly, going back and forth between Virginia and Savannah during long weekends. On our weekends together at home, we were busy getting things ready for the new baby. Doing all of the nesting things we could do, rushing it all in, so we could say we shared the experience. Doesn't sound too bad right?

Then came the day he left for Korea. I didn't get the hug. I didn't get to see his face. I got a phone call. "I love you and I love our baby."

There I was, 22, 6 months pregnant, 16 hours from mom and dad, alone... I don't know how long I cried, but it was for a long time. I was scared to death. My only saving grace was a beautiful lady and her husband, that I would come to love and know as a mom and dad of sorts, Tootsie and Pat, and knowing that I was in the home my husband and I shared...

Notice my hesitation?

You see, in all of the prep to have things ready for the baby, everything had changed. Our bedroom was no longer "our bedroom". With the best of intentions, to make the most room possible in our 2 bedroom 2 bath home, my husband had put ALL of his things away in the garage and attic. There was no toothbrush on the sink. His colognes all went with him to Korea. Where his clothes once hung in the closet, he had taken the doors down to create a space for the crib in our room. Nothing of him was left in the house besides pictures. His presence was missing, and that hurt more than I could have imagined.

In the years to come, I learned not to let those little things leave the house. It is important to me that there be a part of him here. His toothbrush still sits beside the sink. I replace it when I know he is on the plane ride home. All of his colognes and deoderants stay put. If he wants to smell good, he buys more to take with him.

Recently, with the best of his intentions again, my husband "cleaned" out my cell and home phone voice mail and text messages. He deleted everything I had in there. What he didn't know was that like a silly school girl, I had saved the ones where he had called home to say "I love you" and we had missed each other. Those little things I would read, or listen to in order to make it through a rough day while he is gone. Luckily I had saved some from years ago in .wav files on the computer!

Yesterday, I ran across another difficult task. I changed my sheets and washed my bedding. As I pulled the sheets off the bed, I couldn't help but think, once I do this, there is no part of him here where I sleep. I willed myself through the process, came out on the other end pleased to sleep on fresh bedding. I was reassured only by the fact that his Dallas Cowboys Jersey he wore the day before he left, is still folded up on his nightstand. From time to time, when I am having a down day, I can hold this, and feel close to him... This is by far one of my FAVORITE things!

No news is good news...

This is the little sugar coated bandaide we apply to our hearts when it has been too long. An easy saying, an easy meaning, but a hard truth.

As I write this, it has been nearly a week since I heard my husband's voice. I have gotten some emails, but nothing compares to his voice. I miss it, and from time to time I wonder if I will recognize it when I hear it again. Silly I know, because it has only been a week.

The phone rings, as I run to it, my eyes play tricks on me and the caller ID almost convinces my heart that it is him. My heart begins to beat out of my chest, then I realize it is just some damn creditor looking for the lady "Dee Polk" who continues to use my number to make bad decisions. Thanks lady! You have no idea of the scope of your carelessness I am sure. One day I hope to run into you.

I suffer from an addiction to my computer that isn't funny. We do this tango. It gets a half hour of down time, and then there I am...stalking it again. This gives new meaning to the phrase "cyber stalker".

If there was ever anything that could bring out my dependent personality traits, it is a deployment. I am generally independent and strong, but for 12 months (or whatever the Army deems appropriate) I become a nervous nelly. I don't sleep but maybe 4-6 hours a night, I drink LOTS of coffee, and more alcohol than usual.

What keeps me from just becoming a psycho cyber stalking alcoholic? Strength, tiny day to day goals, and sugar coated brainwashing statements like...

no news is good news.

Smack!

As I got up this morning, I knew it was going to be a day to forget. Starting the day off, my kids and I over slept and BARELY made the bus this morning. When I say barely, I mean I didn't even get a chance to brush my daughter's hair. I handed her the brush as she groaned and got on the bus, hollering at them to grab breakfast when they got to school. Not a way for ANYONE young or old to start off their day.

My saving grace was knowing that I had set the coffee up to brew automatically. Like a warm and cozy hug, it was waiting for me inside.


After taking in that much needed caffeine push, I braved a trip to the gym with a friend. We always do a 30 minute workout, but today we both were left without our iPods. A workout is NEARLY impossible when you are missing the beat! We decided if we could force our way to finish the workout, we would go get a HUGE coffee from Starbucks. I mean after all, didn't we deserve this treat?

Seems like a great day I know... wait, it is coming.

We met up with another friend, and caught a movie. Everything went really well. The movie was pretty good, and the companionship was great. Then the credits roll and BOOM it hits me!

The one week wall. I ran into this wall last deployment. The one where you tell yourself you have achieved great things by surviving the first week, but the evil dark demon is whispering that you still have plenty more to go. During this week, his voice is loudest. I don't know why. This week in reality isn't any tougher than the rest.

To make matters worse, I come home to find that the shows I will watch tonight are the season finales of the ones my husband and I would curl up and watch together. Talk about adding extra bricks to the wall! I sit here saddened already that he isn't here, but now I am missing his laughter in the room as "Ted" does something silly to "Barney". Isn't it odd the things we miss when someone leaves? Those things that seem to go unnoticed when they are here.

This wall has smacked me today, but I will climb it tomorrow...

To be or not to be...

"SEASONED"

What does it mean to be a seasoned spouse? The Army definition is spouses of 5 or more years of experience as an Army spouse.

When I think back to the beginning of my 12 years as an Army spouse, I find humor in this labeling. You see, when you first marry into the Army, it is VERY much like being thrown into a frying pan. You go in all raw and fresh like a newly cut chicken breast. Then as the butter around you begins to heat up, otherwise known as Army life, you might get a little sprinkle of salt and pepper. (Oh who am I kidding? You WILL get salt and peppered!) The salt and pepper in this case would be some form of "life lesson" in the Army.

Simple seasonings might be dealing with housing, figuring out what all of the acronyms stand for, learning to read your soldier's LES, etc. As the recipe progresses, spices get heavier and more intense. Throw in some cayenne pepper, or in this case, deployments. Not hot enough? Add some jalapeno peppers, a.k.a. things that will inevitably go wrong or break the moment your soldier leaves.

Now, the key to this recipe and becoming fully seasoned to so called "perfection" is learning to balance the spices. This means learning how to handle everything that is thrown at you. This job, because regardless of what outsiders might say, it is a job, requires a great amount of self assurance. There is no room for self doubt.

You can't just call your soldier every time you come up against a jalapeno pepper! As a seasoned spouse, I find that there is no room for a weak stomach. My best advice, have TUMS on hand, because the only sure thing in this life is LOTS of spice!

Bon Appetit!

What would you ask for?

Yesterday was my husband's 37th birthday. I have been his wife for nearly 12 years now. I have known and loved this man since he was 25. (WHERE HAS TIME GONE?) We have spent moments together that nothing I could ever imagine could take the place of. Just simple moments, that to others might seem small and silly. To me, those matter so much more than the bigger moments people strive to have. The ones they make movies about.

Our movie would start out as a cliche, with a heated kiss on a back road. One that I wasn't expecting, but would never trade. People often think that life changing moment will happen in a place that is planned and perfect. Often more times than not, girls dream that moment occurs at the alter as they wed. I never had that dream, but I never knew what anyone meant when they said "you will know" either.

That statement seems so vague. You will know what? How will you know, and what am I supposed to know? Let's not forget that my parents didn't seem to actually know the very thing that I was eventually going to know. Talk about CONFUSING!

I don't recall the date, I do recall it was night, and it was summer. I remember being lifted onto the hood of the truck, and I remember the moment he leaned in and kissed me. I had NEVER felt that feeling. I had my fair share of kisses before, but no one made everything stand still like his kiss did.

From that one simple moment, I couldn't imagine being with anyone else. Every moment of my day was spent thinking about him. As soon as I could find free time, I just wanted to be with him. It didn't matter if he was mowing a yard, changing oil in his truck, whatever. Just so long as I could be close enough to feel his presence. (This is what I was going to know.)

That is what I miss when he is deployed more than anything. I miss just knowing he is here. I miss walking into a room, and being able to tell he was just in there. I miss how the bathroom smells of his body wash fresh after his shower. I miss having him sitting on the couch next to me as we suffer through another one of my terrible picks in rentals. (In all fairness, we have suffered through PLENTY of his poor picks as well.)

Those little moments are what I hate to say goodbye too. As I hear the footsteps of this deployment marching ever so close, I dread missing out on those moments most.

To people outside this lifestyle, they think it is all about just missing a year with someone you love. Granted that is not an easy thing to do, but it is so much deeper than that.

We all live one life. We all have so much time in our lifetime. I can't help but resent losing valuable time meant to be spent together, by spending it apart. I can't help but think about all of those small moments we won't have because of distance and war.

I love my husband. I am so very proud of my husband and his dedication to not only our family, but to our country. A soldier is who he is, and always has been. I would never and have never asked him for anything less.

If I were to ask for anything, I would just ask for time to be added on to our lives, so that all of the moments we have missed and will miss due to separation, can be lived and shared in the end.

Counting...

Every tick of the clock, not the minute hand, the second hand. Tick...tick...tick.

How can something so small and softly spoken scream at you in such a loud voice? With every tick of that damn clock, heartbreak creeps a little closer.

Soon, it will be time to say goodbye again. I am just not sure I am ready for it. I feel very much like a child awaiting that dreaded shot their mom is making them get. Soothing words from loved ones all around me... "Don't worry...you can do this." Sure, I can. I get that, because frankly, what other choice do I have? Crying, pitching a fit, all of those things I WANT to do, won't do a damn bit of good. The deployment monster is still headed straight for me.

So, I do what Army wives do. I suck it up, pull myself up by the boot straps, and drive on. I put on my "brave mommy face" for my kids. I tell them the same well meaning things I hear from everyone around me. "We can do this! We did this before, we can do this again!"

It isn't that words of encouragement aren't appreciated. They provide a certain sense of "YES I CAN" to my gut, but my heart is throwing a 2 yr. old's temper tantrum at the same time. I CAN do this, but I don't WANT to do this!

Okay, so I don't want to do this. That means what to the Army? How about the average civilian? NOTHING! The truth to everything Army when you are an Army wife is that you may not WANT to do it, but you married into this life, and with that, you WILL do it. The only choice you have is HOW you will do it.

So, HOW will I survive this deployment? Going into this one, I have something on my side that I didn't have before, experience. I know the bed will be empty. I know my heart will ache daily, but most in the evenings when the house is quiet. I know I will worry to the point of making myself sick on occasion. I know that I will want to cry more then I am comfortable with. I know my kids will require extra hugs and reassurance.

I know, as others have said time and time again, that I CAN do this, because I HAVE done this.