Crazy In the Head

Deployment makes you go crazy.

Before. During. After.

Legit Crazy.

If you've ever experience deployment, you'll know what I'm talking about.

If you haven't, well I hope you never have to.

Dreams- Where in the heck to the wacked dreams COME from?

 I can understand the insane dreams of ninja terrorists breaking into your house, killing the dog and kidnapping you to bribe your soldier for information.

Or the ones where you miss the send off and suddenly realize that you won't see your soldier for an entire year and you don't understand what happened or why he couldn't say goodbye.

The nightmares, I expect. I hate them but I understand.

But, what about the ones where you find yourself in a foreign country trying to find your soldier and there are ten thousand uniforms and all the faces are blurred out and you can't find yours no matter how hard you try. You scream and scream and call for him but he doesn't answer...

Or the ones where your front door gets stuck and you can't open it for all your worth and the dog has to go out and contemplate shoving her out the window. and then the aspca comes and takes her away becase your neighbor saw you throw her out the window.

(so this may be an actual concern, seeing as how our door keeps getting stuck and I am not strong even to open it!)

Or, let's just talk about the crazy hormones going on.

S.T.R.E.S.S

What if I forget to change the oil in the car? What if I send our house into financial ruin?

Pizza for dinner. I should have made his favorite, I'm a terrible wife.

Don't ask for his help on this, you have to learn to do it alone.

He asks for another cupcake, I say no because they are for the party. He says, isn't it my party? Yes- but I don't want you to eat them now. Ten minutes later on the floor in a puddle of tears, he promises he didn't really want a second cupcake but says he'll eat five if I will stop crying.

I'm annoyed at him for throwing dirty laundry in the basket of clean towels. and out of nowhere the thought flies into my head, it'll be so much easier when he isn't here to make a mess!

 And then the hysterical tears of guilt.

Oh, the guilt. Have mercy.

I ran an errand when he was home. I missed 3 hours I could have spent with him.

I shouldn't have stayed up to watch American Idol, I should have gone to bed with him....

I've got to get out of my own head.

I am going crazy!

WE: not me vs. you.

"Hatred stirs up quarrels, but love overs all offenses."

Proverbs 10:12

There has been a lot of smoke around the milspouse blogging world as of late.

Most of you know what I am talking about.

I had to wait a couple days before writing this post, because I knew in my heart of hearts- that my ugly flesh would come roaring out if I did not allow the Spirit flood in.

I am addressing it, not to fuel the fire.

Not to defend my husband or my role as an Army Guard Wife.

Not to confront or put someone in there place.

And certainly not to spread gossip.

But I do think it needs to be addressed.

Because this kind of bickering and backlash tears a body down.

And aren't we all one body?

Don't we all serve for one common goal?

Didn't we all recite the same pledge and creed?

It is no secret, that in the military world each branch is distinct.

Army.Marine.Navy.AirForce.

Active.Guard.Reserve.

And we all know the jokes. the poking at each other.

 "marine jarheads",

  "ain't ready for marines yet army",

 "sailors who don't swim"

"air conditioned airforce"....

I would be lying if I said they've never been spoken in my household.

You'd be lying if you did, because we all say them.

And we all laugh.

But at the end of the day, whether I'm talking to my best friend whose husband is a deployed Marine,

or my co-worker whose husband and son are in the Air Force,

We are all in this TOGETHER.

We may not walk the same steps, but we walk the same path.

Its true, that I cannot relate to PCSing or moving across country.

But I do know the struggle of deployment without knowing another milspouse nearby to confide in.

I don't have to worry about My Soldier deploying every other year.

I worry deployment every two years. because our guard unit is the most deployed unit in our state.

The longest stretch (aside from deployment) that I've gone without My Soldier is a 3-4 month school.
But we've never known a one weekend a month, two weeks a year schedule. ever.

in fact we've been training for this deployment since four months after last deployment,

 and we already have alerts for the next deployment before this one even starts.

I don't call it a BX, I call it a PX. even though the only one in a 50 mile radius is technically a BX.

I don't understand the Marine ranking system.

 (my best friend and I try and figure out what means what in "our" branch....its really funny actually.)

The list could go on and on and on...

Because we are different.

But we are also the same.

When we start walking towards that place where we compare and try to exalt ourselves against our brothers and sisters...thats a dangerous place to be in.

As you can imagine, military spouses are STRONG.

We have to be.

We learn to brave a smile when our love in uniform kisses us for the last time in X months and walks away leaving us standing alone...

We take on dual parenting.

We learn to mow the lawn or shovel the driveway.

We take over finances.

We sleep in a big empty bed.

We wait all day for 5 minutes of delayed fragmented phone calls.

We study for promotions and boards.

We memorize ranks.
We learn acronyms.
We encourage and support our uniform.

When did we become me vs. you?

When did details break down a community of support and acceptance?

When did difference become distance, and camaraderie become competition?

I won't deny my initial reaction to this spiral of controversy.

I was hurt. Offended. Outraged.

As I should have.

But what does quarreling accomplish?

Nothing.

My sister said it best here, that every uniform, regardless of branch, regardless of rank,

stands shoulder to shoulder to defend our country and uphold their oath.

Shouldn't we as milspouse's follow their lead?

Confessions

My lovely Kate posted about "Confessions" the other day, so I thought I'd join in and make her feel better about her fear of checking voicemail....

* I am petrified of the dentist. I'm not sure when my phobia developed, my mom always took me as a kid and as far as I remember, nothing traumatizing happened. (but then, maybe I am blocking it)
I won't go without my hubby. even its just an x-ray. I've rescheduled having my wisdom teeth out twice. somehow I feel the throbbing pain is easier to handle...

* Feet creep me out. I hate them. I wash mine every night before I get into bed and have even been known to bring my sleeping husband a washcloth to wash his off so that if he accidental brushes my leg its clean. I need help, I know.

* I love school supplies. Every August when stores make their big going-back-to-school display, I check it out for deals. I usually come home with a variety of notebooks and colored pens. Oh- I graduated 3 years ago...

* If I could live in a black and white world, I probably would. Don't get me wrong, I love color. Its splashed all over my house. But there is just something classic and elegant about black and white.

* I have never taken my car through a car wash or for an oil change. I always make my husband do it. Because I'm scared I won't line my tires up correctly and fall through the floor. don't laugh. I have nightmares.

* I love all things sweet. Chocolate, candy, cookies, frosting. I should join a support program. My saving grace is I ban them from the house. well minus the chocolate. what girl can live without dove?

* I'm a total type A personality, but I am a procrastinator at heart.and always 10 minutes late. makes sense right?

* Things I don't like make me nauseous. Legit, nauseous. And not just scary things like spiders or snakes. the color orange. feet. things that don't match. the bathtub drain.

* My worst fear in life is being "stuck". and no I can't really explain that.


 So now that I've made Kate feel better about her fear of voicemail... someone make me feel better about my fear of the car wash?


 

The D- Word

It’s time again. Time for calendars and countdowns,

checklists and to-do’s….

We’ve known it was coming for a while….it was just the time frame that kept changing. Pushed up, pushed back. Original date. New date. That’s the army way.

I feel like I’m doing pretty well considering. I can talk about it without having an emotional breakdown in public. And people keep asking me how I’m “dealing” and I find a quirky answer about being “army strong” and “soldiering on”… most days that’s fairly true.
But others, not so much.

It’s a whole new ball game this time around. I’ve done the whole long-distance, where-in-the-world-is-Waldo , talk once a week for 5 minutes and 22 seconds bit… only last time was our first deployment and I was blissfully ignorant to the suck I was about to embrace. And I was living at home with my parents and my best friend was in the same shoes. And I was in school. And working full-time. And busy busy busy.

Round Two is a little more daunting it seems…. living alone in a brand new, big empty house with a puppy who gives kisses but can’t talk back…working from home most days and having lots of free time and long nights…my best friend clear across country(literally) and my oldest friend, though just reaching the end of her first deployment - she has a baby and is in a different phase of life right now...

Everyone  I know that is facing deployment has a different perspective… they are not worried about whether their dog will ever eat again and how to stop the incessant whining at the door when he’s not home. And then there is the fact that I know exactly what is coming, and I don’t like what I see…

So, here is my fair warning of the whining that’s sure to come. Don’t get me wrong, I am so very proud of my soldier and I am so blessed to have the life we do- military and all…But, I’m still dreading what’s just around the corner waiting for us.

For some reason, I have it in my head that this one is the worst. First time- ignorance can be bliss- third time seems like one would feel like you’ve conquered the challenge before and survived.

But right there in the middle…. That’s what has got me a little worried.

Are any of you up for your second deployment? What keeps you distracted and focused on enjoying the time at hand?

I’ve heard both sides: start new hobbies, join a club, volunteer for an organization…vs… this is not a time to add stress and take on the world, maintain your schedule, stay busy but don’t add to your plate just yet… What do you think? Any suggestions?

At the end of the day, I know that my Lord is in control.  He knows when My Soldier and I will be saying our “see you laters” and where he will be going and how long he’ll be away and whether we will get an R&R.

He knows all things and all things work together for the good to those who love Him.

So if I start to lose sight of that truth, will someone please remind me?

I’d like to try and pull this off with a little grace. Not a lot, but a little…

Hopeful

My sister recently posted about her word for 2012…and it got me thinking.  For the past few months I have associated many words and descriptions for this year...

Words like Panic. Deployment. Fear. Dread. Countdown. Alone.

 These words have been trapped in my mind, tossed about and thrown into focus at any random moment.  They have kept me from resting in His presence and being joyful in the time that I have. But no more.

 New Year’s came and went, and I realized that I didn’t fall apart. That the earth didn’t shatter beneath my feet and the waves didn’t swallow me up. Neither did it change anything- those words are still there… but I’m still standing. And I’ve discovered a new word. An unexpected revelation for this year.

Hopeful.

Hopeful doesn’t mean no tears. It doesn’t mean my countdown reversed. It doesn’t mean that I am not fearful. And it doesn’t mean that I have a tingly excitement of something new.  However, this is what it DOES mean:

Hopeful means that Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow and 3 months from now, My Lord is the same.

Hopeful means new opportunities and advancement for the Kingdom.

Hopeful means that I am never truly alone. Because He knows where I am. In the day and

during the night.

Hopeful is the promise of what is to come… the truth He has a prosperous and successful future for me.

Hopeful is knowing that “neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord”.

HOPEFUL means that these other words can’t control me any longer. Because you can’t hope in the Lord and be chained to the devil.

Will you be hopeful with me?

Whatever your situation is, whether you awake with dread each day or feel like you’re stuck in a pit of despair… or can’t see through the glass clearly and fear what lies ahead…

Will you chose to be hopeful?

And if you’re caught in a moment where you aren’t sure you have it in you, look UP.  There’s always hope when you look up… 

The Perfect Tree

My husband constantly reminds me that things don't have to be "perfect".And I constantly remind him- oh yes, actually they do.God knew what he was doing when he created a laid back-go with the flow- it's all good-type of guy with let's make a plan to plan-make it perfect-must be precise-can't ignore the fudged details type of gal.And its a good thing. Because me being married to me would be catastrophic.  But I have the best intentions. Honest. I see something and want to do my very best. Somewhere along the line, someone must have decided perfection was attainable, because I swear I kill myself every day trying to get there. No such luck as of yet.  So now that you know the background to my little saga and I've set the stage...here's what happened. Hallmark Version: My Soldier FINALLY has a day off when we can get a Christmas Tree.
So, as a Christmas enthusiast, I decide to make a day of it. We'll find a local tree farm and drive out. There will be rows and rows of beautiful trees to choose from like on the Hallmark Channel. The owners will have beautiful wreathes on display and homemade donuts and hot chocolate. If it snows, they even have a horse-drawn sleigh!! It will be a day of memories to be made and maybe finally I can get my easy-going hubby to get excited for once! He doesn't get into Christmas, or birthdays. or any holiday really... Real Life Version: We set out for the hour drive to the tree farm I found online. Our GPS thought it would be fun to have us do a few extra loops and swoops, you know- 30 extra minutes of bonding time in the truck. We finally reach our destination and pull onto the dirt road, my anticipation a mile high for the sight just over the hill. Rows and rows and rows of trees! All skinny, scrawny and all of 3 feet tall. Not entirely what I envisioned in my perfectly planned Christmas outing. No worries, we'll find that one perfect 6 foot tree on the lot. If it takes all day.We parked and walked into the little store filled with sweet smelling wreathes and pine cones.
There were homemade donuts, before someone ate them all. And there were hot chocolate packs if the water was hot. But still, no worries, the shop was filled with adorable ornaments, some homemade and others collected from various shops around the local towns. It was a Christmas ornament museum, but that would have to wait. Hubby of course is on a mission. We came for a tree. Divide and Conquer. Then leave.So we found an employee and asked how it worked. "How what works? What do you want to know?""Finding a tree...can we just have at it and drive the lot? Do you have saws? How does this work?""Saws in the red shed. Pick whatever and bring it down. We'll tag it." (and walks away)Ok then. Off to the red shed to find a saw! 20 minutes late after evaluating each and every row of trees, none even came close to catching my eye. Tiny and scrawny.This Christmas HAS to have a perfect tree.Next year I can have a 3 foot one....So back to the store we go. We'll just pretend we cut it down. Pick one of the pre-cuts that are taller.We picked a beauty. Tagged it, paid and asked if they had a baler to tie it.
"Yap. Hold on."....... "You're good." (and walks away) Fabulous customer service. Thank you for the treasured Christmas memories made...  Finally loaded in the truck, we begin the trek home (without the GPS' help)And I, being a perfectionist and a whiner, start to complain about my dashed dreams.And My Soldier, being a fixer and mood lightener, starts to make jokes about Christmas traditions.Silly ornaments, stupid irritating lights that give seizures, sticky trees and inflated gift giving...all to try and make my unattainable vision sound less dramatic and not a "big deal"...My mission for Christmas excitement. fail.So I sulk. And apologize that I dragged him half way across the state for a dumb tree that we could have picked at the end of our street where they set up shop for trees and wreathes to be sold. I decide to shake it off and delve into dreaming of what our tree will look like with our new decorations and sparkling white lights. At home we unload, bring the tree in and set it up in our brand new stand. Our brand new stand which doesn't work because the base is wayyyyy too big.And my amazing hubby runs to the basement to return with several small blocked pieces of wood.He makes a shim to support the tree and accommodate for the abnormally wide base.Its perfect!! Perfectly smelling, perfectly straight,perfectly 6 foot beautiful Christmas tree! We put on the lights, the garland and decide to wait until after dinner to finish with the ornaments.It was then that I realized, a slight, um...tilt of the tree. Gradually, little by little sliding towards the wall. No one would ever know unless you walked across the room to admire it from another angle. But its still crooked. A crooked Christmas tree.So what do I do? Sulk. Its not perfect, its crooked. We need to fix it. So we tried, screw bolts in tighter, turn the tree to different angle. Add another support block of wood. Nada. I just wanted it to be a perfect tree, for a perfect Christmas while he was home. I wanted to look back and remember this year and smile. And you know what my sweet husband said?It is baby. It is perfect because I am with you.We have a beautiful tree. We made memories that we'll laugh about forever.There is nothing missing. Its perfect. And you know what? He's right. We have a perfect, crooked Christmas tree. One I will never forget the memory of decorating it with My Soldier.And I love it. 

   

If I'm asked ONE.MORE.TIME....

I don't often get intensely personal in my posts,mostly because, its scary.In fact, I haven't since this post It's nerve-wracking to air all your secrets on public clothes-line strung up across the world for everyone to see. But a dear friend once told me that if you can name your fears, well then they aren't so big anymore. so I'm going "to punch it square in the face" and maybe it will loosen its annoying grip.  No one, and I mean no one knows this. except for my best friend. (but everyone knows that not telling secrets excludes your best friend unless specified right?) My Soldier and I have been married almost 3 years. We're mid twenties and have years ahead of us. and yet its EVERYONE's favorite question. It doesn't matter if we are in the commissary talking to the cashier, at church chatting with friends, or bumping into old aquaintances while running errands. But my favorite is when its your family. or his. That ask every.single.time.you.see.them.  And I calmly smile and pull out a diffusing answer. to get them to shut up.when I really just want to flip.my.top.like a tea kettle that has sat on a hot stovetop for a few minutes, steaming and whistling and threatening to blow.  It's gonna happen. If I'm asked.ONE.MORE.TIME. "So when are you two going to start having children?""Don't you want to hold a cuddly little baby and know you created them?""You don't have any children YET?""Oh- are you waiting for some reason?""You probably just want to keep your hubby to yourself right? Just don't wait too long!"" I understand, you want to wait until he's sure to be home and not deployed right? Well, you know honey- there is never any assurance if he's in for the long haul." And my favorites after I've calmly pulled out some statement like, "we've got our hands full with a puppy right now!" and "we've only been married for 3 years, and we're barely mid twenties. there's no rush!" or my fall back if nothing appeases them, "well, I'd like to wait until I'm sure I won't be single parenting for the first year of their life" : "Oh, well I guess it is the Lord's timing. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to have a baby""Oh no! Don't wait, its so much easier to have someone else to care for through deployment. Then you won't be sitting around the house lonely and miserable""Well, if all else fails- there is always adoption and you are the perfect couple to love another child as your own!" So I bite my tongue and smack a fake smile on my face.When want I really want to do is scream at them and blurt the truth. We have tried. and tried. and tried.And its not happening. and they say nothing is wrong. And He doesn't want to try any more right now. so seeing a doctor again is pointless.And every single time you ask that question you are ripping my heart open and stabbing me in the gut.And yes, I'm happy for all of my friends who got married after me that are happily starting a family, thanks for pointing that out by the way. And can you please. just. stop. talking about it.And of course I want to carry life and see my husband in our children. Of course I think about getting older and him leaving me all alone when he deploys again.And I'm very well aware that you want to be a gramma. Don't you think I want to be a mother?Can't you see that I'm at the brink of tears or fuming every time you bring it up?And why is it, that every single person wants to announce how many of their friends are having babies right now? or have just found out that they are pregnant. I am done. I can't take it any more. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want everyone to know and talk about it themselves.But the asking has got to stop.The pressure has got to stop.Because if I'm asked ONE. MORE. TIME. I might just die.  {so much for punching fear in the face huh?}{maybe next time...}