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. ;-)
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
The plump, read headed stepsister with braces
As the cookie monster and I prepare for our adventure in SFAAT Afghan-land, I can't help but think about this same time last year, and how different things are now. This is a post delving into the things I didn't know- and for a large part still don't.
We were brand new to the area and Ft. Bliss. While the other wives were friendly, I felt intimidated by their experience and wisdom, and didn't know how I could ever hope to be like them. Not only were they able to keep it together when the guys left, but they excelled at being temporarily single parents. They were able to set up a play date with one hand, drop the chicklets off at school with the other, cook a three course meal with their left foot (obviously needing the right to stand on), using the big toe on that left foot to change diapers, and magically make themselves up to look FABULOUS just through sheer willpower. They were superheros.
And then there was...... me. My great feat of courage was telling the cashier to "bite me," after she sneered at my public display of bawling in the Walmart check-out line. My superhero power was my unchallenged ability to pack on more weight than Dom Deluise, without the slightest bit of effort. And the whole time, all I could think was "How am I going to get through this?" I thought about those other women, the epitome of strength and grace..... and then me, the plump, red headed stepsister with braces.
But as the cookie monster and I prepare for the start of our second deployment, I'm realizing that everyone starts somewhere. This time, I'm staying in El Paso, and I'll be living in our house, alone by myself. Instead of willing time to slow down so that he doesn't have to leave, I'm anticipating getting the goodbyes over with, so that homecoming can come next. And just like that..... the braces are gone. I can only assume that with time, the plump red headedness will dissipate into something less grotesque.
We were brand new to the area and Ft. Bliss. While the other wives were friendly, I felt intimidated by their experience and wisdom, and didn't know how I could ever hope to be like them. Not only were they able to keep it together when the guys left, but they excelled at being temporarily single parents. They were able to set up a play date with one hand, drop the chicklets off at school with the other, cook a three course meal with their left foot (obviously needing the right to stand on), using the big toe on that left foot to change diapers, and magically make themselves up to look FABULOUS just through sheer willpower. They were superheros.
And then there was...... me. My great feat of courage was telling the cashier to "bite me," after she sneered at my public display of bawling in the Walmart check-out line. My superhero power was my unchallenged ability to pack on more weight than Dom Deluise, without the slightest bit of effort. And the whole time, all I could think was "How am I going to get through this?" I thought about those other women, the epitome of strength and grace..... and then me, the plump, red headed stepsister with braces.
But as the cookie monster and I prepare for the start of our second deployment, I'm realizing that everyone starts somewhere. This time, I'm staying in El Paso, and I'll be living in our house, alone by myself. Instead of willing time to slow down so that he doesn't have to leave, I'm anticipating getting the goodbyes over with, so that homecoming can come next. And just like that..... the braces are gone. I can only assume that with time, the plump red headedness will dissipate into something less grotesque.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Happy new year!
Yes, I am VERY late with this. Sorry!
The Cookie Monster got home from Iraq almost 8 months early in November, so I haven't needed to post any deployment tips for a while. But never fear, he is deploying to the middle east again this summer, so I'll pick them back up then. Obviously, this means I'm back in Texas. We decided not to go back to the apartment complex (from HELL) and are MUCH happier in our new home! I'm looking for work (I hope to hear about a potential job this week!), and hanging out with friends a lot. I feel much more at home here now than I did before our Iraq adventure began.
I hope to come up with something interesting to write about soon! Stay tuned :)
The Cookie Monster got home from Iraq almost 8 months early in November, so I haven't needed to post any deployment tips for a while. But never fear, he is deploying to the middle east again this summer, so I'll pick them back up then. Obviously, this means I'm back in Texas. We decided not to go back to the apartment complex (from HELL) and are MUCH happier in our new home! I'm looking for work (I hope to hear about a potential job this week!), and hanging out with friends a lot. I feel much more at home here now than I did before our Iraq adventure began.
I hope to come up with something interesting to write about soon! Stay tuned :)
Monday, September 26, 2011
Surviving Deployments
Lot's of military wives blog about this same subject, it's perfectly common. I, however, would like to do it over time, learning as I go, with my own personal flare. Sound good? Yay :-)
Tip #1: DON'T watch Dr. Zhivago.
You're home alone and you figure "Eh, I'll watch a classic, why not?" Well, the dude has a wife AND a mistress. You're home alone, missing the love of your life, and this guy gets TWO women at his every beck and call? Having every emotional and sexual need fulfilled twice over? How the hell is THAT any fair?! You'd kill for just ONE particular wo/man to be there with you, and this guy gets TWO? Eff that! This movie just makes for one pissy jealousy fest- if you feel overcome with the need to watch it, run. Run to the library or movie rental place and get ANYTHING else. Even Jane Eyre will put you in a better mood.
Tip #1: DON'T watch Dr. Zhivago.
You're home alone and you figure "Eh, I'll watch a classic, why not?" Well, the dude has a wife AND a mistress. You're home alone, missing the love of your life, and this guy gets TWO women at his every beck and call? Having every emotional and sexual need fulfilled twice over? How the hell is THAT any fair?! You'd kill for just ONE particular wo/man to be there with you, and this guy gets TWO? Eff that! This movie just makes for one pissy jealousy fest- if you feel overcome with the need to watch it, run. Run to the library or movie rental place and get ANYTHING else. Even Jane Eyre will put you in a better mood.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
For once, being slightly serious
Hi all. It's been a long time, so I figured I'd take this opportunity to address my life to date. For those of you actually bored enough to be interested, you have my apologies. You're in for some serious rambling.
Paul left for Iraq in July, and I've moved back to New Jersey to be with my parents while he's gone. This decision has won me criticism from multiple people. Some of which has included, but is not limited to the following:
1. I am running away from my responsibilities as an adult.
2. I'm isolating myself from the world to sulk 24/7 about my husband being gone.
3. I am being immature for "running back to my mommy" (this kinda ties into #1).
4. I'm abandoning my husband by leaving the home we shared together, and moving across the country.
Everyone is certainly entitled to their own opinion. But let's consider my life specifically before we all pass judgment. Number 1: I think I'm still caring for my responsibilities. I may live in my mother's home, but nothing has changed from my married life. I share cooking responsibilities. I do my own laundry. I vacuum the upstairs wing of the house, and clean my own bathroom. I take care of the family pets, including grooming, feeding, and cleaning. I offered to pay rent in addition to doing all of the above, which she refused. Therefore, other than paying rent, I still maintain the household responsibilities that I had before moving in. If you really think otherwise, I have to say my mother and I have the most whacked out maid arrangement I've ever seen.
Number 2: I have the phone numbers and facebook pages of most of the unit wives. I think of them often, and keep in touch regularly, as annoying as I'm sure that is. I get out and visit the friends closer in location fairly often. I go out and run errands with my mom. I'm hardly shutting myself in my room, wallowing in self pity. This was part of the whole point of me moving- I felt more isolated in one of the largest states in our country than I do in one of the smallest. I think that's more ironic than Alanis' song.
Number 3: This is our first deployment. I fucking hate living in Texas. I hate the people (except the unit wives), I hate the traffic, and I hate the heat. I could live anywhere from Texas to a shoe box in your backyard as long as my husband was with me. But why should I suffer living in a place that I hate for an entire year, completely alone? When I can be in my second home, surrounded by loving friends and family? Yea, it sounds really immature to me, and doesn't make any sense.
Number 4: Moving "home" was not an easy decision for me to make. I had to weigh lot's of pros and cons before coming to my final decision. In the end, I made this move with my husband's loving support. He understands my need to be around other family in his absence. He willingly agreed to give up the home we shared together because he knew how happy I would be being with my parents in his absence. He understood that constantly being around his things in our home would make this separation harder on me, and being in the place I inhabited when I was single would be make it easier to sustain my life without him. In being his selfless self, he agreed this move was best for me. If I have his blessing, I'm hardly abandoning him. I keep in constant contact with him- I am always available to him, emotionally speaking. And since he's on the other side of the world right now, I don't see how me being somewhere else still half a world away is abandoning him. We're still apart either way; it's not like we're "more apart" if I change locations.
I hope that explains my logic behind my coming back to New Jersey. Now that you're fully informed, feel free to draw your own conclusions and form judgments. I promise to take them as seriously as I take global warming.
Paul left for Iraq in July, and I've moved back to New Jersey to be with my parents while he's gone. This decision has won me criticism from multiple people. Some of which has included, but is not limited to the following:
1. I am running away from my responsibilities as an adult.
2. I'm isolating myself from the world to sulk 24/7 about my husband being gone.
3. I am being immature for "running back to my mommy" (this kinda ties into #1).
4. I'm abandoning my husband by leaving the home we shared together, and moving across the country.
Everyone is certainly entitled to their own opinion. But let's consider my life specifically before we all pass judgment. Number 1: I think I'm still caring for my responsibilities. I may live in my mother's home, but nothing has changed from my married life. I share cooking responsibilities. I do my own laundry. I vacuum the upstairs wing of the house, and clean my own bathroom. I take care of the family pets, including grooming, feeding, and cleaning. I offered to pay rent in addition to doing all of the above, which she refused. Therefore, other than paying rent, I still maintain the household responsibilities that I had before moving in. If you really think otherwise, I have to say my mother and I have the most whacked out maid arrangement I've ever seen.
Number 2: I have the phone numbers and facebook pages of most of the unit wives. I think of them often, and keep in touch regularly, as annoying as I'm sure that is. I get out and visit the friends closer in location fairly often. I go out and run errands with my mom. I'm hardly shutting myself in my room, wallowing in self pity. This was part of the whole point of me moving- I felt more isolated in one of the largest states in our country than I do in one of the smallest. I think that's more ironic than Alanis' song.
Number 3: This is our first deployment. I fucking hate living in Texas. I hate the people (except the unit wives), I hate the traffic, and I hate the heat. I could live anywhere from Texas to a shoe box in your backyard as long as my husband was with me. But why should I suffer living in a place that I hate for an entire year, completely alone? When I can be in my second home, surrounded by loving friends and family? Yea, it sounds really immature to me, and doesn't make any sense.
Number 4: Moving "home" was not an easy decision for me to make. I had to weigh lot's of pros and cons before coming to my final decision. In the end, I made this move with my husband's loving support. He understands my need to be around other family in his absence. He willingly agreed to give up the home we shared together because he knew how happy I would be being with my parents in his absence. He understood that constantly being around his things in our home would make this separation harder on me, and being in the place I inhabited when I was single would be make it easier to sustain my life without him. In being his selfless self, he agreed this move was best for me. If I have his blessing, I'm hardly abandoning him. I keep in constant contact with him- I am always available to him, emotionally speaking. And since he's on the other side of the world right now, I don't see how me being somewhere else still half a world away is abandoning him. We're still apart either way; it's not like we're "more apart" if I change locations.
I hope that explains my logic behind my coming back to New Jersey. Now that you're fully informed, feel free to draw your own conclusions and form judgments. I promise to take them as seriously as I take global warming.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Ways Women are Like Fish
Inspired by How I Met Your Mother...
1. We're attracted to shiny objects.
2. If men throw us a line, we might bite.
3. If you take us out of our environment, we either thrive, or do the dead float.
4. We all want to live in a pretty castle.
5. If you house us too close together, we eat each other alive.
6. We gesture spastically.
7. We sparkle.
8. We come in many pretty colors.
9. When solving problems, we go around in circles just to end up where we started.
10. Our tails tend to be a high point of attention.
1. We're attracted to shiny objects.
2. If men throw us a line, we might bite.
3. If you take us out of our environment, we either thrive, or do the dead float.
4. We all want to live in a pretty castle.
5. If you house us too close together, we eat each other alive.
6. We gesture spastically.
7. We sparkle.
8. We come in many pretty colors.
9. When solving problems, we go around in circles just to end up where we started.
10. Our tails tend to be a high point of attention.
Why We Wait
The Cookie Monster is leaving soon, for what will be a long time. Once again, I have people asking me "why?" Why would I ever put up with that? Why would I wait? Just, why?
Imagine your arm. It's something you ordinarily don't live without, right? It's literally an extension of your main person. So, if a doctor suddenly told you it had to be amputated, you'd be pretty upset. You'd have trouble imagining how you're going to live without it, how awful the adjustment would be, and how difficult it would be to navigate this new territory. How will you reach the cookie jar on the top shelf without that arm?
But then, the doctor tells you "It's ok, it's just temporary. In a year from now, I will have the technology to magically re-attach your arm, and make you whole again." It suddenly doesn't seem quite so bad. Yes, it will be difficult, but eventually, you will have your arm back, and your body will once again be whole.
Think about it- anything awful sounds SO much better, when it's not forever. You run out of socks and can't go shopping for a year. It's ok. You develop callouses on your feet as they get tougher and tougher. It might stink and get a little hairy sometimes (and there are sprays for that), but then that day arrives- you can go shopping again. Your shoes once again have an extra cushion of comfort and awesomeness that you feared you'd never get back again.
This is the life of a military wife (or husband). We are constantly separated from the person we love, and subject to the scrutiny of our family and friends. And that's why. No matter how much it sucks, it is only temporary. Eventually, we are together again. After learning how to operate separately, we do eventually get our arm back. Our lives do become whole again. We can once again, reach the cookie jar on the top shelf. And that's why we wait.
Imagine your arm. It's something you ordinarily don't live without, right? It's literally an extension of your main person. So, if a doctor suddenly told you it had to be amputated, you'd be pretty upset. You'd have trouble imagining how you're going to live without it, how awful the adjustment would be, and how difficult it would be to navigate this new territory. How will you reach the cookie jar on the top shelf without that arm?
But then, the doctor tells you "It's ok, it's just temporary. In a year from now, I will have the technology to magically re-attach your arm, and make you whole again." It suddenly doesn't seem quite so bad. Yes, it will be difficult, but eventually, you will have your arm back, and your body will once again be whole.
Think about it- anything awful sounds SO much better, when it's not forever. You run out of socks and can't go shopping for a year. It's ok. You develop callouses on your feet as they get tougher and tougher. It might stink and get a little hairy sometimes (and there are sprays for that), but then that day arrives- you can go shopping again. Your shoes once again have an extra cushion of comfort and awesomeness that you feared you'd never get back again.
This is the life of a military wife (or husband). We are constantly separated from the person we love, and subject to the scrutiny of our family and friends. And that's why. No matter how much it sucks, it is only temporary. Eventually, we are together again. After learning how to operate separately, we do eventually get our arm back. Our lives do become whole again. We can once again, reach the cookie jar on the top shelf. And that's why we wait.
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