Time


I finally have all the outlets in my living room working again.  Apparently it was just a wire that had somehow wiggled loose.

So we were all excited to put the Christmas tree up.  It’s been hard enough for me to get into the Christmas spirit this year. I am just not quite feeling it.  It’s very sad because the girls are both really into it and I am not.

I started playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving (horrific I know!).  But I knew that I was going to need all the motivation I could muster.  I know that we will still have a wonderful Christmas.  I know the girls have no real idea what it means for Daddy to not be here.  And I know that we will get through it.  I just hope and pray that we can enjoy the holiday season, and not just survive it.

So anyway, the outlets were working and I dragged the 200-pound fake Christmas tree into the house.  I have never been a fake tree person, but when we were at Wright-Patt  we found this great tree at a great price and bought it.  It’s made things easier to not have big fights over what real tree looked best!

So I pull out all eight zillion branches, sort them all by color (with my trust 2-year-old assistant).  And was ready to start the assembly process.   I look in the box, pull out the four-legged stand, set it up and then picked up the main support for the tree.

I tried to put it into the stand and it wasn’t working.  Clearly something was missing.  I set the tall branch down, go look in the box and find it’s empty.

I ask the Little One if she took anything out of the box.  No, she didn’t.  I am missing a rather important part to my tree. So now I cannot put the tree up.

The problem is the Big One is so excited to decorate the tree after preschool, I have to do something.  We live in the middle of nowhere, pretty much. We have an Albertson’s and a Rite Aid for shopping choices. I don’t have time before the Big One gets picked up from school to drive the 20 minutes to Wal-Mart and buy another one.

So we headed to Rite Aid figuring we will get whatever they have. It’s a good thing I didn’t have my heart set on having a big huge full tree.   The one green tree that they had claimed it is 6-feet tall. I knew it was going to be bad when I saw the size of the box.  I am not exaggerating at all, it is about 1/8 the size of our regular tree’s box.

The Little One and I bought it and then headed up to pick up the Big One from preschool.  I didn’t say anything to the girls about a tree, just fed them lunch and put them upstairs for resting time.  As I took the 12 minutes to set-up the new tree, it took everything I had to not cry.  This tree was not going to help me get into the Christmas spirit.  It was sad.  It was pathetic.  It was a cheesy, skinny tree like you’d see in a bank lobby.

Oh well, I put one strand of lights on it and called it done. When the girls got up from their naps and came downstairs, the look on the faces defied the $20 I paid for the tree.  They were thrilled to have a tree in the house.  They were over the moon excited to put the ornaments on it.

It was a good lesson in perspective for me.  They don’t care how big it is, or how full it is, they just knew we had a tree to decorate.

We have been so blessed over the past year.  And my girls helped me to remember that focusing on what we have instead of what we don’t have is going to be the key toward getting through and enjoying the Christmas season this year.

Of course, the Husband’s presence will be missed enormously. But he will be home shortly after the New Year. YAY! We are getting closer!

Well we’ve reached the mid-point of our deployment.   And today I had my first real breakdown.  I feel bad, the Husband called and I didn’t even say “hello,” instead I began by blurting out; “I can’t take it anymore! I give up!”

Poor guy. As if he wasn’t already worried about my stress level, then I dump that one him.   I really am okay.   But some days are better than others, there is no doubt about it.

Today is one of the not-so-good-really-crappy-rotten-miserable days.  I am not going to sugar coat it.  Today sucks big time.

It started yesterday with the Little One puking.  At least I am finally getting smarter and have realized that for the Little One, puke generally equals ear infection.  So we only dealt with 18 hours or so of puke before getting her in to the doctor.

So in addition to her throwing up and fussing off and on all night, the Big One was having “scary dreams.”  So the small amount of time that I was actually in my bed, I had a four-year-old kicking me, pushing me and grabbing my arm to make sure I was still there.

Finally around 4 a.m.,  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I had started my 9th load of laundry and decided I needed to kick the Big One out of my bed.  I reassured her that things were okay, and that there were no giants that were going to eat her. We made a pact to dream about the playground at La Jolla Shores.  We’d imagine the sand, the salt air, the waves rolling in and all the fun we’d have next time we went to San Diego.

I crawled back into bed and heard the dog get up and head downstairs.  It was odd;  she generally stays up in my room all night.  For a split second I thought I better go downstairs and check on her.  But I was so tired that I decided I would cleanup whatever she was chewing up once the sun came up.

Big mistake.

Oh how I wish I had to clean up a destroyed toy.  Instead I was greeted with doggie diarrhea all over the playroom. Honestly could she not have done it in the kitchen on the tile, or right by the door on a rug?  Nope, right there in the middle of the playroom.

Of course, the Husband called, just as I discovered the diarrhea.

So I was on the edge. Of course he assured me that things would get better.  Yeah right if that’s the case why did the Little One puke all over me at the doctor’s office an hour later?

So now I have more laundry to do and I need to finish scrubbing the carpet.  The good news is that the Little One has actually kept her medicine down for an hour now.  I am dreading the next phase of her recovery.  It’s time to introduce some food and see what happens. Wish me luck.

It happens at the strangest times.   Well, I guess strange isn’t the right word.   I guess maybe random is a better word.   The Husband has been gone for a month now; One down a few more to go.

Over the last few weeks, the girls and I have gotten into a decent rhythm.  We are learning what to expect from one another and how far we can push each other before we all become very miserable.

I really have gone into a survival-type mode. More days than not I feel like I am doing what I can just to make it to bedtime.   I don’t dwell too much during the day on the fact that the Husband is gone.   If I start thinking about it, then inevitably my mind wanders to how long it will be until he gets home.   And quite frankly, that is too depressing to think about.

So most days, we simply go about our business and do whatever it is we need to do.  Obviously we do think about him and talk about him throughout the day, but we don’t put a whole lot of emphasis on time.

Anyway this routine works for me.  If I don’t stop long enough to get sad, I won’t get sad.

Yesterday in church, I was sitting behind a couple.  They were probably in their late 40’s. (for those of you who read my Facebook updates, they were NOT the ones texting during  the sermon!)

At this particular time in the service, we were standing singing a song.   For whatever reason, I was watching them while I sang.   They both had their hands resting on the pew in front of them.   At one point the husband swayed with the music and his fingers brushed up against hers.   Over the next few seconds, I watched as their fingers all slowly became intertwined. Then as they held hands for the rest of the song, it all hit me.

As my eyes filled up with tears, I realized that there was nobody around to hold my hand.  Now normally I am not a big hand-holder.  After a few minutes, your hands get all sweaty and all the romance of the moment is gone.

I guess it’s the realization that there is nobody there to quietly brush up against.  There is nobody there to give you a hug when the kids are driving you bonkers.  There is nobody there to scratch your back when you have that one elusive itch.  There is just nobody there.

{Yes, I am turning into a big ole sap. Leave me alone, okay!}

I should know by now to not ask the Big One a question that I am not prepared to hear the answer to.

As we were cuddling in the rocking chair before bedtime, she let out a huge sigh.  I asked her what such a big sigh was for.  To which she replied:

“I just miss Daddy. I like Daddy more than I like you.”

OUCH! That just cut straight to the heart of things.  As much as it hurt me, we talked a little bit more about how that was okay and the other things she was feeling.  It was heartbreaking to listen to her tell me that she really misses Daddy doing tubby time, and reading to her.  She misses rocking and singing with Daddy.  She misses playing with Daddy.  She misses going with Daddy to get a haircut.  She rattled off several others things that she misses about Daddy.

I was taken aback by some of it.  I know we always talk about how resilient kids are, and I do know that she will be okay and she will get through this.  But it was very sad for me to realize just how much of an impact Daddy’s absence has had on her.  And it scares me to think about how she is going to adjust as time goes on.  I hope and pray that it gets easier as the days go on.  But at the same time, I worry that she will lose that unending devotion to Daddy.

As much as I want things to be easier for her, I don’t want her to ever forget how much fun Daddy is.     We are so very far away from when he will be home, I fear how that much time apart will skew her memories of Daddy.

We are fortunate that the location he is in participates in the United Through Reading program. Through a partnership with the USO, the Husband can record a 30-minute video once a week of him reading books to the girls.

We received our first video on Saturday. It was so fun to watch their eyes light up when they saw Daddy on the TV. And to be able to hear his voice and see his mannerisms did wonders for their psyche (mine too!).

As I tucked the Big One in, she clutched her Daddy doll and I did my best to reassure her that even though Daddy was far away physically.  He is very close in our hearts.  And that Mommy and Daddy both love her very much no matter what happens or where we go.

I’ve said before that I am not a real romantic.  I am not a lovey-dovey-mushy kind of person.  The Husband and I often joke the he is the “girl” in the relationship.  He is much more of a softie than I am.

With this deployment I know this “fault” of mine makes things even more difficult for him at times.  When he calls, I tell him all about what we are doing and how the girls are getting along.  I also tell him that I miss him, because I do.

But I don’t profess my undying love at every opportunity.  It’s just not who I am.  And I know it frustrates him.  I definitely do miss him.  I miss the snoring.  I miss the quiet times at night when the girls are in bed and we can just hang out in peace. I miss watching how he makes the girls laugh. I miss having someone else to share the bedtime routine with.  I miss being able to just run out to the store for one thing without a whole entourage.  I miss being able to call him at any time to share a funny story or funny thing one of the girls said.

I miss him being around.  I miss seeing his face.  I miss patting his butt each night before bed (TMI, I know!).

All of this is true, but no I don’t go shouting it form the mountain tops.  Right now it’s too hard.  It’s easier to give him a cursory, “I miss you.”  And leave it at that.  I am afraid if I divulge to him all the things I will miss that I will be reduced to a crying little ball on the floor.  And I can’t do that.  It freaks the girls out.  Besides, he doesn’t like it when I cry.  I don’t want him to feel guilty about “leaving” us any more than he already does.

So he gets a simple, “I miss you.”  Someday, he’ll read this and maybe understand better.  In the meantime, I’ll do what I know best.  I’ll keep e-mailing pictures of the girls every day.  I’ll keep gathering things for care packages and I’ll keep praying for the strength to get through this time.

I love my bed, I love sleeping in my bed.  I confess that I relish Reserve weekends when I have my big bed all to myself.   Normally when the Husband is gone, I sleep like a rock.  There is nobody there to steal the blankets. There is nobody snoring away interrupting my quiet.  There is nobody rolling over into the middle of the bed almost forcing me off the edge.  It’s all mine.

As I lie there last night trying desperately to fall asleep, I was questioning what was going on.  I haven’t slept well since the Husband has been gone.  Part of that is because the Little One has been awake screaming, fussing or crying at least once a night for the past four nights now. And part of it is a mystery to me.

The only thing I can think of is the fact that I have the bed to myself for such a long time takes the “thrill” out of having it to myself.  Normally the Husband is gone for two weeks at the most, so I know that I have to catch up on my sleep while I can because he will be back soon.

This time, I think of him missing the girls dressing up for Halloween.  I consider him missing Thanksgiving when my family all comes up to the house and we end up with eight “extra” people in the house and four dogs.  I think of spending our 7th wedding anniversary apart.  I realize how the chaos of Christmas and all the festivities will not be the same without him.  It’s a lot to weigh on my heart when I am trying to sleep.

I do realize that it is silly to say that he will “miss” all these holidays.  I know that there will be celebrations and activities on Base.  I know that the days will still happen even though we are apart.   But I also know that nobody is going to make him my special macaroni and cheese on Thanksgiving because he doesn’t like turkey.  I know that he won’t get to see the excitement on the girls’ faces when they wake up on Christmas morning to find treasures from Santa.  I know that on his birthday he won’t be treated to a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday that only a 4 and 2 year old can deliver.

It’s a lot to think about while you are trying to sleep.  I need to find a way to focus on one day at a time and shutting my brain off so that I can rest.

I know that as soon as I open Facebook today, many people will be celebrating that it’s Friday.  For most of you that’s a big deal. It’s the end of the work week.  It’s the beginning of the weekend. It may mean sports events, family time, barbecues and the beach.

Well, for us it’s just like any other day.  While the Husband is gone there is no real distinction between one day and the next.  Yes, the Big One has preschool three days a week, but other than that one day is just like the next.

Usually I do heave a sigh of relief when we all make it to Friday.  It means a little extra time as a family.  It means someone else can help with the diaper changes, bath, dishes and cooking for the next 48 hours.  But for us, for now there is no relief is sight.

I know that sounds so depressing.  It’s not.  We are doing fine.  But I will miss Saturday mornings and being able to just lie in bed listening to the Husband and girls being silly.  He somehow seems to be able to elicit shrieks and giggles that I do not.  The girls play differently with Daddy.  They are less reserved.  They are just goofy.  They love to laugh uncontrollably with him.  I don’t know why that it. Maybe it’s the “Daddy’s Girl” side of them coming out.  I’m not sure, but I do know that tomorrow when we wake up, it will sound just like any other day in my house.

Well we made it home safe and the Husband made it to his new home safe.  So all is good in the world.

I will admit that tonight’s bedtime routine was tough.  Typically when we go to San Diego we take two cars.  The Husband usually drives back home on Sunday so he can work on Monday and the girls and I drive home on Monday mornings to avoid the weekend traffic.

By the time we get home, I am usually spent and the girls spend the afternoon watching Noggin or something equally entertaining until the Husband gets home.  But today there was no relief.  And I am tired.

It was kind of sad when I realized it was a little after 5 p.m. and he wasn’t coming home.  We were outside playing with a newly inherited Barbie swimming pool.  Fun stuff.  It only took me 90 minutes to put the darn thing together.  And it took the girls about 3 minutes to get each other soaking wet;  So much for Barbie getting to swim.

Anyway, it hit me that I was on my own and needed to get dinner started and then move on with the routine alone.

I did have a nice treat on the drive home today, though.  Usually we listen to CDs of the kids’ music, but today I had the radio on.  I was still in San Diego so it was on K-Love.  I wasn’t really paying attention to what was one, I was chatting with the Big One (okay, we weren’t really chatting, I was answering a million questions that she was firing at me). Anyway there was a lull in the questions and I heard a familiar tune in the background, so I turned the volume up to hear Steven Curtis Chapman signing, “I Will be There.”  It was, of course,  our wedding song and I haven’t heard it in months.  It was a nice treat before we descended into Fallbrook and lost K-Love and the 20-question game resumed.

I think as long as I continue to have little moments that make me smile and think of him, we will be just fine.

These last few days are going to be tough.  Last night I lost it.  I yelled at the Little One and then broke down in tears when the Big One wanted me to read a bedtime story instead of Daddy.

How in the world do I convey to them that 120 days is a long time? They are 4 and 2, I know they don’t get it.  Yet, I know how much they will miss him once he’s gone.  It’s a tough place to be.

I don’t want to re-emphasize over and over and over again that Daddy will be gone a long time.  It makes me sad and it makes him sad.  But I don’t want them the think it’s like any other TDY we’ve been through where he’s gone a few weeks at most.

I keep telling the Big One that Daddy will be home after Christmas.  She knows that’s a long time away, but doesn’t really understand how long it is.  I am debating about doing the calendar thing where they get to mark one day off each morning.  I think it’s a good way for them to see when Daddy will be home, but I think it will be harder for me to actually see how many days are still left.

I know so many of my friends have been through a deployment.  And they all handle it differently. I know we just need to find what will work best for us.

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