The tips continue!

Deployment Tip #2- Laugh often

Disclaimer: for the purposes of this blog entry, all pronouns will be masculine, and all military personell will be soldiers. Sorry ladies, marines, airmen, etc., but I'm too lazy to write them all out over and over again. So if you aren't a male soldier, please don't think I'm excluding you.

It's difficult to describe the plethora of emotions that come along with a combat deployment. But I think the most simple way I can describe the whole of all these different feelings is in one word- incomplete. I don't mean this in the typical, co-dependent and melodramatic fashion of "you complete me," or "my soul wasn't whole until I met you." I find that ridiculous. Unless you WANT to admit to being partially brain-dead until that magical day that love finally found you and awakened the lost synaptic connections, I suggest abandoning that attitude. Or auditioning for a part in the newest day-time soap opera, whichever you prefer.  It should have been "If YOU only had a brain."

When I say "incomplete," I mean something entirely different. My life does not stop when my husband is gone. By all appearances, it might look like my life hasn't changed at all, or that I'm a cold hearted bitch for not missing him "enough," or being as distraught as people think I ought be. I try to enjoy every day to the fullest, and have as much fun as I can. But there is never a day that I forget about him, the danger he's in, or how much I miss him. When I have to love him from across the world, I feel every mile. I'm incomplete because he holds a piece of my heart. And when he's gone, he takes that piece with him. It still exists, since he has it. But it's not with me anymore, so a small piece of me is separate from the rest. When he's with me, it's shared, rather than separate. But until he can be with me again, it remains separate.

Now, it's not unusual for shit to hit the fan the MOMENT he deploys. You may have a leak in your roof (sorry Megan), or you may cut your finger open on a knife and THEN realize you have no bandaids (that dumbass was me). But sometimes, shit is just FUNNY. Here are some personal examples.

1. I was craving hibatchi one night, so I ordered it to go. And there was much rejoicing. For some reason, I was still craving it the next night (if anyone tries to make a preggo comment at this point, I will SHANK you). It's super high in calories and expensive, but I decided to have it again for a second night in a row. I figured what the hell, no one but Paul would ever find out how much I was stuffing my face. So I call and give my order, and I give my name when he asks for it before hanging up. He says "Oh, I remember you from last night!" *facepalm* And when I go to pick it up, he says "See you again really soon!"

2. Several people have asked me if we're trying to have a baby (sorry, Karen). I got so irritated, I finally decided to get a laugh out of it. I responded with "Unless you want to loan me YOUR husband, getting pregnant during a deployment means writing checks my hoohah can't cash." They didn't laugh, but I sure as hell did.

3. When cookie monster was at pre-deployment training (still counts), I was snuggling with our puppy one night. He was nuzzling me a lot, which I thought was sweet. I realized I needed some milk for the next morning, so I went to check my face and such before going to the grocery store. Low and behold, there were two huge wet spots on my chest, in the obvious suggestive places. He'd licked, instead of nuzzled. I hadn't done laundry yet and didn't have any clean clothes, so I had no choice but to go out like that, which was funny enough. Then, I made a facebook status about it, and joked that people might think the reason for the wet spots was because I had another man over while mine was gone, when in reality, my dog had tried to get to second base with me. Cue another round of giggle from me, as I thought I was so witty. Then I realized that it sounded like I'd just revealed details of what my husband and I do in our bedroom when he IS home. I might as well have invited all my facebook friends into a porno for how bad it sounded. Take foot, insert in mouth, keep digging grave. While embarrassing in the moment, it was also kind of funny. I think the person next to me in the dairy section thought I was possessed as I maniacally giggled to myself. 

In conclusion, when going through a deployment, laughing at yourself can be a good antidote for sadness. And if that doesn't work for you, laughing at me is acceptable instead, I don't mind. ;-)