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...
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
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!
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.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!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
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!
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!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, May 18, 2009
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...
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...
Sunday, May 10, 2009
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 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!
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