Day 158: "Halloween"

Today is Halloween.  I did my best to ignore the bitterness I felt over not having my husband here to celebrate it with us so that I could make it as fun for the kids as possible, but it wasn't easy.  It's kind of strange, because my husband has never been here with us on Halloween before, so it shouldn't have felt so wrong to celebrate it without him here, but it did.


When I went to my youngest son's school parade, I couldn't help but think that my husband should've been there beside me, snapping pics with his cell phone while I took them with the digital camera, oohing and ahhing with me over all the different costumes.  Instead, I looked like a crazy person, switching back and forth between the camera and the camera phone, talking and laughing to myself about the little girl wearing a clear trashbag full of different colored balloons (I'm assuming she was a gumball machine?) and the seven different sets of Mario and Luigis.


As I picked the kids up from school, ran across town to have dinner at the new restaurant that just opened up, then made a mad dash to the local department store to find something for my oldest son to wear trick-or-treating due to a last minute costume malfunction, then dropped him off at his friend's house, hurried home and got my younger son dressed and ready to go, took him trick-or-treating, then went and picked my older son back up after trick-or-treating was over, I couldn't help but think how much easier that all would have been if my husband would have been here to help me.  Even if we'd done it all together and it was still every bit as hectic and chaotic, just having him there to make me smile and laugh and to remind me to breathe...it would have made all the difference in the world.


And when we got home, after our super crazy, busy day, and I helped the boys inspect their candy while we watched scary movies on TV, I couldn't help but think about how much fun it would have been to have him there with us, sneaking a secret stash of Reese's and Twizzlers when the boys weren't looking, laughing at me every time I jumped during 'Halloween', even though I've seen it a dozen times.


While the boys were still sorting their candy into piles of what they wanted and didn't want, while Michael Myers was still tormenting Jamie Lee Curtis, and while I was just starting to lose my 'brave face' battle for the day and was missing my husband terribly, he called on Skype.  He got to watch the boys zip around the living room for a little while, still buzzing from their sugar high.  He talked to me while I let the dog out and turned off all the lights downstairs so that I wasn't creeped out that Michael Myers was lurking in the shadows.  And when I climbed into bed after the longest, busiest day I've had in a long time, he was right there...to tell me he loved me and missed me and to wish me sweet dreams.


Our Halloween may not have been a conventional one, but we celebrated to the best of our "military family with a deployed dad" ability.  At the end of the day, the kids were happy, my husband was happy, and I was happy.  And knowing that we were able to have a Happy Halloween is important....because I know that the "big" holidays are just around the corner...

Day 157: "Before I Knew You"

Before I knew you, I didn't know what it felt like to miss someone so much that it causes actual, physical pain.

Before I knew you, I didn't know what it was to sleep with the phone and computer within arm's reach, to wake up every hour or so to see if I'd gotten a call, or an email, or a message...anything.

Before I knew you, I didn't know what it was like to hang on someone's every word, because I never know when I'll hear from you again.

Before I knew you, I didn't know what it felt like to wake up every morning with the sick, familiar feeling of worry hanging over me like a dark cloud.

Before I knew you, I didn't know of this world of military life and deployments and sadness and loneliness.

Before I knew you, I didn't know what it was like to have such pride in another human being, to know that the sacrifices we make as a family are so much bigger than any of us.

Before I knew you, I didn't know how much a handwritten letter, no matter how short, could mean to a person after traveling thousands of miles over oceans and continents and through a war zone to get to its destination.

Before I knew you, I didn't know how to live in the moment, to cherish the present because that's all we're guaranteed, to not focus on the future or dwell on the past, because I'm too busy enjoying the "right now".

Before I knew you, I didn't know what it was to prepare care packages and cry over Army recruitment commercials and have Skype dates, and enjoy every second of it.

Before I knew you, I didn't know how strong a bond could be.  I didn't know that two people could endure such stress, such distance and time apart, so many sleepless nights and so much pain, yet still find themselves loving each other harder with each passing day.

Before I knew you, I didn't know true love.  With you, I have everything.

I love you.

Day 156: "Because"

Day 155: "All My Loving"

**Remember to hover over the slideshow to un-mute it!**

Day 154: "Fall"

I love fall.  For as long as I remember, it's always been my favorite season.  I love the cooler weather and the way the leaves change color.  I love football and the smell of bonfires and apple cinnamon scented candles.  I love caramel apples and apple cider and trips to the cider mill.  And I love Halloween.  It's my favorite holiday.


My husband was home on R&R when this past summer started to morph into fall.  The weather was finally cooling down, the leaves were just starting to change, we went to football and soccer games and got the kids cider and donuts from our favorite dairy.  It was a brisk fall morning in mid-September, just as the sun was rising in the east, turning the sky a million shades of orange and purple and red, that my husband kissed me goodbye and boarded a plane back to Iraq.


Since then, I haven't been the biggest fan of fall.  A couple weeks ago, I took the back roads on my way home from work and while the beauty of the bright red and yellow and orange leaves on the trees lining the country roads wasn't lost on me, there just wasn't any magic.  I only took the boys to one hometown football game this year, even though the stadium is literally in our back yard.  (And we left right after halftime.)


There was a time when I started thinking about Halloween costumes for the boys and for myself before summer was even over.  I decorated the house from top to bottom, had Halloween parties, made all kinds of way too difficult Halloween treats for the boys to take to their class parties.  I put more effort into Halloween than into Thanksgiving and Christmas combined.  But this year, less than a week before Halloween, the decorations are all still in their neatly labeled tupperware totes in the basement.  The boys have costumes (ones we just figured out a week or so ago), but I'm not dressing up.  I'm probably not even doing anything, even though I've been invited to costume parties, bar crawls and haunted houses.  


I'm just not feeling it this year.  Not Halloween, not anything about fall.  And it sucks.  But it's hard to put your heart into things when your heart is on the other side of the world.  Everything's better when my husband's here, I've known that all along.  But when he's gone...when he's gone, even the the simple pleasures in life seem to have lost their magic.

Day 153: "Captain America"

Today I realized something.  It might seem like a small something, but to me it didn't feel so small at the time, because sometimes it's the small things that make me miss my husband the most.  I had a busy day today, which is rare for me as of late.  I've been trying to "take it easy" over these past couple weeks, to give my brain and my body time to heal themselves.


But today I had to make a doctor's appointment, a stop at the office, a couple trips to drop off fundraiser items, a shopping trip (and anyone who knows me knows I HATE shopping...I like to buy things, but I hate to shop) to find the boys new winter coats, a trip to the pumpkin patch and a trip to the grocery store.  For being so good while we were out running errands (and by "so good", I mean only minor physical altercations and arguments, no public knock down/drag outs and no screaming matches in public), I told the boys we could buy Captain America, which just came out on DVD yesterday, and have a movie and pizza night after we got done decorating our pumpkins.


I've always been a bit of a Marvel nerd, and Captain America has always been my favorite, since long before I had my very own soldier.  So I was stoked for this movie.  I remember taking the boys to see it as soon as it came out.  They loved it, but I definitely think I enjoyed it more.  I remember wishing that my husband had been here to go see it with us.  And I remember that the war scenes made me sick to my stomach, because the movie came out not too long after my husband left for Iraq.


And then I realized...this movie that didn't come out in theaters until after my husband had  left was already out on DVD...and my husband is still gone.  In the grand scheme of things, missing the theatrical and DVD release of a cheesy action movie doesn't really even register on the chart.  My husband has missed birthdays, anniversaries, sporting events, and will most likely miss the holidays this year.


But still....it reminded me just how long he's actually been gone.  And while that's a hard thing to think about, it also means he's that much closer to coming home.  His deployment is more than halfway over.  Which means that he'll most definitely be home before Captain America makes it's broadcast television debut.  And that's a good thing.

Day 152: "Another Army Wife's Tale"

This is the tale of our first OAWT contest winner, Amanda.

Amanda wasn't looking for love when she walked into a small-town Texas bar one night almost three years ago, but fate had a different plan for her.  That plan came in the form of a blue-eyed local boy named Roy with a heart of gold and a smile that could light up a room.

A single working mom with a young son, Amanda had recently moved back home from Richmond, VA after graduating from nursing school.  It was a rare night out for her, but she'd promised to attend a going away party for one of her friends.  She'd only been to Dixie once or twice, so Roy, who was a regular, noticed the brown-eyed beauty right away.  He went over to introduce himself, and their connection was instant.


The couple loved to go dancing together, and Roy bonded almost instantly with Amanda's son, Camron.  They vacationed together in Seattle where they went hiking at Mt. Rainier and stayed at beautiful bed and breakfast.  The fact that Roy was in the Army never factored in as the two fell in love, as he was not active duty at the time.


A few months into the relationship, Roy, who was a reservist, began getting occasional orders in Houston, and then was called back to active duty, which neither he nor Amanda had planned on.  But splitting up wasn't an option.  Roy's heart was Amanda's home.  They were determined to find a way to make their  now long-distance relationship work. 


They got engaged and planned a themed wedding in Vegas, as Amanda's dream was to be married by Elvis.  But those plans were put on hold when Amanda was put on bed rest with the couple's unexpected miracle baby boy during her pregnancy.  This year has been a busy year for Amanda and Roy.  They welcomed their second son, Asher, and were married.


Watching Roy fall in love with their new baby boy instantly and watching him introduce Camron to his little brother are moments Amanda will never forget.  But because he is deployed stateside, Roy had to report back to his base not long after Asher's birth, leaving Amanda and their two boys alone in their home town an hour and a half away.  Then, just a few months later, Roy was relocated to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, which is a nine hour drive from home.  The family keeps in touch through Skype, but that only works for so long when you have two little boys who miss their daddy.  So during the summer, Amanda and the boys live like gypsies.  They pack up the car and drive all over the country to spend time with their soldier, who travels to different states for missions.  In the past two years, Amanda has put over 40,000 miles on her brand new car.


As difficult as the separation is, Amanda knows it could be worse.  Roy, an Iraqi war veteran, could be deployed overseas.  And although raising two young boys primarily on her own while also going to school is often overwhelming, Amanda chooses to focus on the best part of being an Army wife instead of thinking about the bad:

Her favorite thing about being an Army wife is: "the pride I feel for my husband.  He is an outstanding soldier, very dedicated and loyal to his life as a soldier, always going above and beyond in all that he does.  I am just amazed when I meet his fellow coworkers at functions and they go on and on about how wonderful he is.  I mean, I know he is wonderful, it's just great to hear affirmations."

SSG P....... and his youngest son, Asher, on their first Father's Day together

Day 151: "True Love"

Day 150: "The Rainbow After The Rain"

Question: What kind of wife would be excited about her husband going to Kuwait?
Answer: One whose husband has just spent the past five months in Iraq, running dangerous missions on a daily basis, i.e. ME!!!


A few weeks ago, I talked about some big changes that were coming in regards to my husband's deployment, and the rough patch we were going to have to go through leading up to that.  The "rough patch" started earlier than I had anticipated, when they unexpectedly disconnected the commercial internet on my husband's base about a week before he was scheduled to set off on his road trip from northern Iraq to Kuwait.


I was nervous enough about his trip, and I could tell that he was nervous, too.  I was already having a hard time gearing up to not be able to talk to him while he was on the road, but having our communication abruptly cut off the week before he left made it all that much worse.


Last week was a nightmare.  Not only was I missing my husband like crazy because I hadn't talked to him or seen him in so long, but I didn't know where he was, how he was, or when he would be able to call me.  I stayed glued to my phone because I was terrified that I was going to miss a call from him, that he'd find a phone or a wifi connection somewhere along the road on his trip and have just a minute to contact me and I wouldn't hear my phone or see the message in time.  I hardly slept.  My stomach was in knots and if I let myself think too much about where my husband was and what he might be doing, I felt like I was going to go crazy.


I waited all week for that call, but it didn't come.  By the time Sunday rolled around, I was emotionally exhausted.  It was a beautiful, unseasonably warm fall day and my as of lately uneventful schedule was pretty full for the day.  I went to my son's final football game of the year, watched him get his first touchdown, cheered for him as he played quarterback during the second half, and then came home to get ready for a movie date with a good friend.


I turned on the laptop to spend my half hour of free time staring at the computer screen, trying to will my husband to get online.  While it was booting up, I walked into the kitchen to grab a slice of cold pizza and a glass of water.  When I came back, my Skype was ringing.  It was him.  I froze.  I literally could not move, could not think, could not do anything other than stare at the words "Dax is Calling" with my heart in my throat.


After a good five to ten seconds, I regained my faculties and answered his call.  It took a moment for the Skype screen to load, just long enough for me to realize that I probably looked a mess after spending the afternoon outside at a football game.  Before I could even think to grab a brush or my lip gloss, there he was on the screen.  He was exhausted and the picture was dark and grainy, but he was alive...he was safe.  In Kuwait.


We talked for a little while, he told me about his trip and about the tent he's now living in with about 50 other soldiers.  I told him what he'd missed in the past week, and how the boys were doing.  While he was talking, I couldn't stop smiling.  I had never in my life been so excited and relieved to talk to someone.  I let him go so that he could go to sleep, and for the first time, I knew that when he said he would call me the next day, he definitely would.  He wouldn't be called out on an emergency mission or have his internet taken away unexpectedly.  That knowledge gave me such a sense of peace.


My husband's deployment is far from over.  He's still thousands of miles away, I still miss him everyday, and we have no idea when he's coming home.  We're still on completely opposite schedules, his internet service is still unreliable at best.  He's still busy, working almost around the clock in the middle of the desert.  He still just wants to come home every bit as much as I want him to come home.  


But the worst of it is over.  He's out of Iraq.  He's no longer in constant danger.  The storm has calmed.  And we're that much closer to the rainbow after the rain.

Day 149: "Love Story"

Every girl needs to have at least one great love story to tell.  Sometimes it's about the little boy in kindergarten who kissed you on the playground one day and then was gone the next because his dad got a job in another town.  Sometimes it's about the boy of your adolescent dreams who you dated for two glorious weeks in middle school before you caught him kissing your best friend, a betrayal from which you never fully recovered.  And sometimes, if you're lucky, it's  about the man you would someday call your husband, your happily ever after.

I spent years trying to figure out how my love story would go.  I had no idea when it would happen, how it would come about, or who my Prince Charming would be.  What I did know was that after 30 years of life, I had yet to experience that storybook kind of love.  I was starting to think that I never would.  And I was okay with that.  I had a good life...two beautiful children, a good job, amazing friends.  I was happy enough.  I wouldn't have changed it for anything less than the life-changing love I'd always dreamt of, but never actually felt.

And then, in true fairy tale fashion, when I was least expecting it, it happened.  A boy from my past, someone I'd dated when I was just a freshman in high school and he was a member of the JV football team, someone I never in a million years would have imagined would be "the one", reentered the picture and completely swept me off my feet.  He was handsome and funny and sweet and absolutely everything I'd ever wanted.  And for some reason, he seemed to be every bit as crazy about me as I was about him.

I never knew what a "whirlwind romance" was until I found myself caught in the middle of one.  We went from dating to engaged to married over the course of six months.  It was fast, and to be honest, a little bit crazy, but I never doubted that it was right.  

You know that part, in any good love story, after the couple has fallen in love and everyone's fallen in love with the couple, where something happens to pull them apart?  It's a crucial part of the story, because it's important that the couple fight for their love, that they realize how much they want it.  It's what keeps the audience pulling for them.  It's what makes the happy ending that much sweeter, because there was a time where that happy ending wasn't guaranteed.  For us, obviously, that thing is my husband's deployment, which began just two months after our fairy tale wedding.

As a writer, I know a good story when I hear one.  Boy meets girl before either of them is old enough to know what real love is (before either of them is even old enough to drive, in fact), boy finds girl again years later, boy sweeps girl off her feet, they fall in love, get married, boy gets shipped off to war, girl sits at home missing him and waiting for him to come home.  It all sounds terribly romantic.  

But telling a good love story and living one are two entirely different things.  And as I sit here, going out of my mind because I have no idea where my husband is, how he is, or when I'll get to talk to him again, it doesn't feel romantic at all.  It just feels....awful.  But I know that this too shall pass.  I will hear from my husband, (hopefully soon), and he WILL come home to me, to our family. Because what's a good love story without the happily ever after?

Day 148: "She's In Love With The Boy"

"She's in love with the boy...

what's meant to be will always find a way...

she's gonna marry that boy someday"

My husband and I way back when we first dated a zillion years ago

Day 147: "Spinning"

Last night I fell asleep listening to the rain.  It reminded me of the last time I talked to my husband.  He told me it had rained in Iraq that day.  "It rains in Iraq?"  I asked.  He laughed and told me about the rainy season, which is basically Iraq's version of winter.  I honestly didn't know it rained in the desert.  You learn something new every day, I guess.


Yesterday was also our seven month wedding anniversary.  When I think about how much my life has changed in the past year, how much I've changed, it's no wonder I'm as emotionally exhausted as I am.  It's no wonder I need a break.  It's only been a little over a year since I fell in love, which is something I promised myself I would never, ever do again.  


I was swept off my feet, had all my walls broken down, and fell head over heels in love.  And then, before my head even had a chance to stop spinning, he was gone.  And I've been in survival mode ever since.  I found what I'd been looking for my entire life.  The one person I know I'm meant to be with.  My soul mate.  I wouldn't put myself through all this for anything less than that.


Now that I've got all this free time on my hands, I've been doing a lot of thinking, which is something I really haven't had time to do since my fairytale began.  And now that I'm really thinking about it, I'm realizing what a wild emotional rollercoaster of a ride it's been.  Over the course of a year, I reunited with the man of my dreams after not seeing each other in thirteen years, got engaged, moved him into the home I've only ever shared with my children, said a heartbreaking goodbye to him when he had to go back to Texas after only two weeks together, planned a wedding, got married, said goodbye to my new husband again just four days after our wedding, found out he was deploying, flew in an airplane for the very first time (and overcame a lifetime fear) just to spend my birthday with him, flew back to Texas a few weeks later and was away from my children for almost two weeks, the longest I've ever been away from them, sent my husband off to war, got to have him back for two amazing weeks, during which time I got my first real taste of being a step-mom, sent my husband BACK to war, and now have entered a phase in his deployment where I don't have any contact with him whatsoever.  And all while working a full time job and raising my two boys.  Is your head spinning?  Mine too.


I've been so busy, I don't think I've fully processed or come to terms with all the ways my life has changed over the past year.  I need that time.  Or at least that's what I tell myself every time I get frustrated because I've now been off work for almost a full week and I can't even drag myself off the couch.  I feel so lazy.  I'm not doing nothing, I don't have that option.  I still get the kids ready and off to school every morning, make them breakfast, pack lunches and snacks, pick them up, help them with homework, take them to practice, take care of the house, write my blog everyday.  When I list things off like that, it sounds like I'm doing a lot.


But those are the things I've always done, even when I was working 40 hours a week.  So what am I doing with all my "free time"?  Sleeping.  And crying.  Lots and lots of crying.  Sometimes because of everything, and sometimes because of nothing at all.  I've learned, over the course of my husband's deployment, who I can count on and who I can't.  So I'm not at all surprised or disappointed that some of the people who are the closest to me haven't been here for me at all during what is without question my lowest point in this journey thus far.


I just miss my husband.  Not even so much in the physical sense, because I'm used to that.  We spend more time apart then we do together.  I miss talking to him.  I miss the sound of his voice and seeing his face, no matter how choppy the video feed is, through Skype.  And it's not only because I'm madly in love with him (which I am), or because I'm insanely worried about him (which, again, I am)...it's because he's my best friend.


He's the one I tell everything to, the one person who can make me smile no matter how upset I am.  He's the first person I've ever been able to truly be myself around.  He keeps me centered, and now that he's gone, I feel lost.  And I need him.  Because he's the only one who's ever been able to help me find myself.  He's the only one who can stop me from spinning.

Day 146: "Surviving Deployment"

Day 145: "A Thousand Years"

My husband and I don't really have a song.  We have our wedding song, Ingrid Michaelson's "Can't Help Falling In Love With You", which is beautiful....but we both love music so much that we're constantly dedicating all kinds of different songs to each other.  I hear at least a little bit of our story in every love song I listen to.  There's never been just one song that makes me think "this is our song".  Until now.  From now until forever, I will consider THIS 'our song'.

Day 144: "Report Card"

When I was in school, my parents always told me that as long as they knew I was trying my hardest and doing my best, they would be happy with my report card whether it was full of A's or C's.  I think that's true in life, as well.  Or at least it should be.  As long as you're doing the best you can, it's okay to falter every now and again.

Because my brain is so gosh darn huge, I was always expected to get not just A's, but A+'s.  And I did.  In every subject except Science.  It didn't matter whether it was General Science, Biology, Chemistry, Physics....every aspect of the subject was just completely out of my realm of comprehension.  I didn't get it.  I try to help my 7th grader with his homework sometimes and I still don't get it.  So even though most of my middle school and high school report cards have a big fat C on them (I think I even got a couple of D's) right in the middle under the Science category, I still considered myself a straight A student.  Because I knew I was doing my best.

My life report card, if there were such a thing, wouldn't be quite as black and white.  There have been high points and low points, good times and bad times.  But at the end of the day, I know I've always tried my hardest.  These last few months have been especially trying.  Even before my husband left for Iraq, I often felt like I was barely making it, between work and the kids and their extra-curricular activities and taking care of the house by myself....being a single parent is not easy business.  And even when my husband isn't deployed, he isn't here 80% of the time, as he's stationed in Texas, so I'm still doing it all alone.

Adding the stress of being the wife of a deployed soldier on top of everything else has simply proven to be too much for me.  I'm not ashamed to admit it, because I know I've handled it to the best of my ability.  The sleepless nights, the constant worrying, always feeling anxious and crying all the time do not mix well with the life of a single mother with a full time job and two very busy little boys.

I've come to the realization in recent weeks that doing my best simply isn't good enough anymore.  My report card isn't full of A+'s with an occasional C anymore, I'm failing all the way across the board.

I went to my doctor for help and was given a handful of prescriptions (anti-anxiety pills, anti-depression pills, sleeping pills).  Shockingly (not), none of that has helped.  What I need is an anti-deployment pill, and until they come up with that, I'm not interested in taking anything else.  With my schedule as full as it is already, I don't have time to see a therapist, and I'm not too sure they could help me anyway.  But something has to change.  Something HAS to give.

I have three very important jobs, and right now I'm failing at all of them.  I don't feel like I'm being a good mother or a good wife these days, because my emotions are so all over the place.  And I know I'm not doing very well at the job I'm paid to do, because it's hard to focus on work when I'm so exhausted all the time.  I'm just...tired.  And stressed out.  And I have way more on my plate than I can handle right now.  But what can I do about it?

I can't stop being a mother, nor do I want to.  I can't stop worrying about my husband or make him any safer or make his deployment go by any quicker.  So that leaves....my job.  I may not like my job, but it's a good job and I need it to pay the bills.  I can't just quit.  Today, as I was explaining all of this to my doctor, who had the box of tissues ready for me as soon as I walked into her office, she asked me a question.  "What about FMLA?  We need to get you some time to rest and get better, sweetie.".  As she filled out my work slip, requiring that I be off for at least the next month, I started crying again.

I was crying because I'm disappointed in myself that I'm not stronger, that I haven't been able to handle this all as well as I thought I would.  But I was also crying because I felt a slight sense of relief.  Now I'll be able to slow down a little.  I can try to catch up on some of the sleep I so badly need, start going to some sort of counseling, and focus on getting better so that I can BE better.

Over the course of my husband's deployment thus far, there have been highs and there have been lows (mostly lows).  This is definitely a low point for me, admitting that I'm not Super Woman, and that I can't do it all.  But I guess the thing I'm taking from this is that is that it's okay (and IMPORTANT) to acknowledge the fact that you need help, and then to go out and seek it.  In this world where we, as wives and mothers and working women, are expected to get all A+'s and do extra credit all the time, it's OKAY to fail a test every once in a while.

Day 143: "Ummm..."

I say "ummm" way too much.  I realized this last night when I finally listened to the interview I did about the OAWT blog with Ginger and the Geek last week.  My segment starts about fourteen minutes into the podcast, after a hilarious conversation about local sports.  (Update: MSU did beat Michigan, the Tigers lost the series to the Rangers, and we're still waiting to see what happens with our undefeated Lions today).  I was so nervous about the interview (without reason) and came very close to not going.  I'm SO glad I overcame my fear and went.  Ginger (Kat) and the Geek (Daniel) were funny and sweet and so easy to talk to.  It was definitely a very positive, empowering experience.

You can listen to the interview by clicking on the link below, then scrollling down to Podcast 035: Andi Osters, One Army Wife's Tale, Halloween Reading, Melik.  You can't listen to the segments separately, but you can fast forward to about the 14 minute mark, which is where my interview begins.

Click here to listen:

gingerandthegeek.com

Day 142: "One Missed Call"

I've spent the past few days trying to accept the fact that my husband is "gone".  Not GONE, but gone from me, since they shut down commercial internet service at his base in Iraq.  I've been trying to get used to the idea that there's no use in making sure my phone is within my line of sight at all times, or in keeping facebook open 24/7 in case he gets a chance to message me.  The reality is, it will most likely be weeks before I hear from him again.


Yes, there is a main building on his base where internet is still available, and yes, he did find his way there while I was sleeping Thursday night to message me, but I'm sure the lines to wait for a computer are long, and I know the building is a good 10-15 minute walk from my husband's room.  He would have to have a good, long chunk of "free time" to be able to go back there again, and even then, he would probably only be able to send me a facebook message.  I wouldn't get to hear his voice or see his face like I need to.  I know how busy my husband's platoon is right now, preparing for the next phase of their deployment, so I wasn't hopeful that I'd hear from him again anytime soon.


Still, I spent the better part of my day yesterday checking my phone and facebook constantly.  I found myself just staring at my husband's name on the side of my chat screen, trying to will that little green dot to appear next to his name.  It didn't.  When 4:00 rolled around, I got this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  It was 11pm in Iraq.  If he hadn't had a chance to call or message me yet, he wasn't going to.  It was late and he was surely in bed.


I put my headphones on and turned them up as loud as I could stand it, trying to drown out the thoughts that were running rampant through my mind.  I decided to try to focus on my work for the last hour of the day, so that I could at least feel like I'd accomplished something while I was there.  I was just hitting my "zone" when I reached over to grab my stapler out of my desk drawer and saw that the screen on my phone was lit up.  My kids had just gotten out of school, so one of them had probably called to ask what we were having for dinner (pizza) or if they could have a friend over (no!).


I almost didn't look at the caller id, as I didn't want to get distracted now that I was actually getting some work done.  But I unlocked my phone as I spun in my chair back towards my computer.  Oh God.  OH MY GOD.  He called.  I recognized the weird number (one of three or four different ones) that shows up whenever he calls using Skype.  I ripped my headphones from my ears and looked at the clock.  It was 4:07.  He'd called at 4:06.  I'd missed him by ONE minute.


Tears immediately sprung to my eyes and I started taking deep breaths, determined not to break out into hysterical sobs at work.  I was so sick to my stomach, I was sure I was going to throw up.  I even eyed the trash can to make sure it was within arm's length, just in case.  I turned the ringer volume on my phone to the loudest possible setting, although I had no intentions of taking my eyes off the screen until he called again.  


He HAD to call again.  If he didn't, I would most certainly leap out of an office window to my death.  Of course, my office has no windows and I'm in a one story building, but I would figure something out.  Something dramatic.  Even if I had to break into the maintenance shed, steal a ladder, and use it to climb to the top of the building.  My chances would still be iffy, though.  Our office building isn't a very tall one, and the fall might not kill me.  I would at least lose consciousness temporarily, though, and that had to hurt less than the pain I was feeling as the minutes crept by and he didn't call me back.


At 4:16, ten minutes after I'd missed his first call, my husband called again.  I could hardly keep my composure as I said "Hello?" and waited for the words that I knew would follow.  "Hey, baby, what are you doing?" he asked.  His voice was echoey and there was quite a bit of static, but it was still the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.  I felt as though it had been two months since the last time I'd talked to him rather than two days.  "Baby!" I squealed, not able to hide my elation.  We didn't say much besides "I love you" and "I miss you", which is what I think we both needed to hear more than anything else.  It was loud, the room he was in, and full of other soldiers calling home, all talking in their "outside voices" to try to be heard over the chaos.  Our connection was bad and the delay made it impossible to have an actual conversation, so we hung up after just a few minutes.


We were able to message on facebook for a little while after that, and I was grinning from ear to ear just talking about the most mundane things.  My husband told me that there was a rumor going around the base that their internet was going to be restored and that they should have it back by the next day (so, last night/this morning here at home).  I tried not to put too much faith in that idea, as it sounded too good to be true.  We said our goodbyes, and my husband promised to call me again as soon as he could.


I went to sleep last night sure that my phone would ring in the middle of the night, and that my husband would tell me to fire up the laptop and sign into Skype.  I couldn't wait to see his face.  But that call never came.  I woke up this morning to no missed calls, no messages, nothing.  I kept my phone on loud during my son's soccer game, but it never rang.  I turned the laptop on and signed into Skype as soon as we got home.  I logged into facebook and left the screen up all day.  I carried both the laptop and my phone with me from room to room as I cleaned, and made sure the TV wasn't up so loud that I wouldn't hear a ringing phone or that weird, spacey beeping jingle that Skype plays when you're getting a call.  Nothing.


So now what do I do?  It's Sunday morning in Iraq.  My husband may or may not get his internet service back today.  He may or may not get it back at all.  He might have a mission, or he might have the day off.  I have no clue.  There could be a chance that he'll be able to go to the building where there is still internet and call me, but then again, there could be no chance of that whatsoever.  And if he does get the chance to contact me, it could come during the middle of my night, the middle of my workday, or as soon as I step away from my phone for two minutes to let the dog outside or help one of the kids find a missing shoe.


How do I carry on with business as usual when I'm completely distracted, waiting for my husband to contact me at any moment, knowing that I may be waiting weeks for that to happen?  Waiting may seem like an easy task, but sometimes it's the hardest thing in the  world to do.  And it can be all-encompassing and incredibly time consuming.  I know I still need to go to work and take care of my kids and my house, and that I can't spend the entire day staring at a computer screen.  But I also know this: I will not miss another call from my husband.

Day 141: "Could Not Ask For More"

**If the video starts playing without music, you may need to un-mute it by hovering over the picture screen**

Day 140: "My Confession"

While our husbands are deployed, we worry about them constantly.  We wonder where they are, what they’re doing, and if they’re okay.  But they worry about us, too.  They worry about our safety, they worry about us having to take care of everything on our own without them here, and, if we’re being honest, a good majority of them worry about us straying from our marriages while they’re away.  And who could blame them? 

They’re on the other side of the world, fighting in a war in the middle of the desert.  We’re still here at home, surrounded by our families and friends, trying to keep ourselves busy while they’re gone.  We go out and socialize while we’re lonely, emotionally vulnerable, and tired of going to bed by ourselves every night. 

We’re also madly in love with our husbands, fiercely dedicated to our marriages, and proud as hell of our roles as Army Wives, regardless of the heavy burden that comes with that title.  But our men sometimes forget that when they’re lying on their uncomfortable cots, tossing and turning, letting their minds run wild.  Especially when the guy a few cots down just got a ‘Dear John’ letter from the girl he thought he was going to marry when he got back to the States, and the entire company is buzzing about the Sgt. who just found out his wife cleaned out their bank account and ran off with another man.  Our husbands’ fears are unfounded, of course, but they’re very real to them just the same.  I think at one point or another during deployment, the thought that their wife is going to fall in love with someone else while they’re gone crosses every soldier’s mind.

I have a confession to make.  There’s a new love in my life.  His name is DJ and he’s from Chicago.  We just met, but it was kind of one of those love-at-first-sight situations and he wound up spending the entire night in bed with me last night.  Judge me all you want, but I can’t help it, I’m totally in love with him.  I love to breathe in his scent when I’m holding him close.  I love to lay my head on his chest and play with the dog tags that hang from his neck, just like I used to do with my husband when he was home.  DJ has the biggest brown eyes, and when I look into them, I can tell that he gets me.  He understands me.  And he’s SO cute.  Definitely the cutest 3-foot-tall teddy bear I’ve ever seen.

DJ was waiting for me when I got home from work yesterday, in a box on my front porch.  My husband ordered him last week, and he just so happened to arrive on the very day that the internet service in Iraq was cut off.  I was completely devastated about losing my lifeline to my husband.  I still am.  I’ve spent the better portion of the past 24+ hours either in tears or on the verge of them.  I’m angry that they disconnected the internet with no warning, sad that I didn’t get to say goodbye, and worried about what’s going on over there now that I don’t have him to reassure me multiple times a day that everything is fine.

All I wanted yesterday was to go home, change out of my work clothes, climb under the covers, and cry myself to sleep.  But there was something in my way, literally blocking my path to the stairs.  A big, white box with my name on it.  I ripped off the packing tape, pulled back the cardboard, and then started removing piece after piece of white and red tissue paper.  I was starting to think tissue paper was all that was in the box when I saw him.  The biggest, softest, cutest white teddy bear on the planet.  He was holding a little red heart pillow that said “I Love You” and had a tag attached to his paw with the sweetest note from my husband.

I fought back tears and hugged him as tight as I could.  If I was going to call him Dax Jr., I would have to “Hooah” him up a little bit.  I took off his tags and unattached the pillow from his wrists.  I wrapped my husband’s dog tags around his neck and doused him with my husband’s favorite body spray.  And when it was time for bed, I held onto him, breathing in that familiar scent, and tracing the lines of my husband’s name on the dog tags I always carry with me.  And I cried.

I cried because I have no idea when I’ll hear from my husband again, and I have no idea how to cope with that.  I cried because I’m married to the sweetest man, one who sends me surprises for no reason other than to put a smile on my face.  And I cried because instead of being able to get in bed at the end of a long, horrible day and cuddle with the most amazing man I’ve ever known, all I have is an empty spot beside me, my memories, and now, DJ.  But I know I’m not alone.  Because no matter where my husband is, he’s always with me.

Day 139: "Gone"

Last night, my husband called me from Iraq.  It was almost 11:00, and I was already sleeping.  Normally, I stay up until he calls, but last night I was exhausted.  The entire house was still recovering from a bout with the stomach flu and I’d gotten approximately 4 hours of sleep the prior two nights combined.

So I was barely coherent when I answered the phone sounding like a 50-year-old chain smoking phone sex operator.  “Helloooo,” I breathed, confused and gravelly.  “Hi, baby,” came the voice from the other side of the world, the side where it was morning time and the sky was bright and sunny.  I had to hold the phone away from my ear a little bit to shield myself from the wide-awakeness of it all.  “Good Iraqi morning,” I mumbled.

I did my best to hold up my end of the conversation with my husband.  I really did want to talk to him and I had lots to tell him about my day, about my very first interview about the blog, about some funny things that had happened with the boys, about the Tigers beating the Rangers in Game 3 of the playoffs.  But all I could manage was a well placed “mmmhhhmmm” or “yeah” when he asked me a question or told me a story.  He told me about his plans for the day, and I was relieved to hear that there were no missions on the agenda.  He could tell how tired I was, so he said he would call me in my morning.

On any other night, I would have protested.  I would have stayed awake and talked to him about anything and everything and nothing at all, just to hear his voice.  But I was exhausted.  And I still didn’t feel very good.  And I’d already talked to him a handful of times during the day.  And…he would call me as soon as I woke up.  He promised.  So I told him I missed him and he told me goodnight and we both said “I love you” a dozen times before hanging up the phone.

I got up early this morning and started getting ready for the day, so that I would have a little free time when my husband called.  But he didn’t call.  I got the boys off to school and got to work on time for a change.  I sat down at my desk and set my phone’s ringer to loud.   But he still didn’t call.  I checked my facebook every two to three minutes for a message from him, but it didn’t come.

I wasn’t overly worried, because I knew he didn’t have a mission today. I figured he was just busy.  As noon approached, the knowledge that it was 7pm in Iraq and I still hadn’t heard from my husband or seen any of his other “battle buddies” online started to get to me a little.  Still, I wasn’t overly concerned.

And then I saw it.  A post from one of the other wives stating that the guys’ internet service in Iraq had been shut down.  With no warning or notice whatsoever.  We knew it was coming, as they’re preparing for their departure from Iraq in the coming weeks and months.  But it wasn't supposed to happen until this weekend.  I was supposed to have three more days of phone calls and facebook messages and video chats. I was supposed to get to say goodbye.  I didn’t.  With his internet out, my lifeline to my husband is gone.  My husband is….gone.  And I have no idea when I’ll hear from him again.

There was so much that I wanted and needed to say to him, and still so much I needed to hear him say to me.  I wasn’t ready.  He wasn’t ready.  Our kids weren’t ready.  No one was ready.  But it doesn’t matter.  This is the Army and everything is always subject to change.  It’s what we’ve been told a thousand times over.  It’s what we signed up for.  It doesn’t matter that our husbands are risking their lives on a daily basis.  It doesn’t matter that we sit at home, miserable, worried, and missing them like crazy.  It doesn’t matter that they’re going to be overseas during the holidays, or that they’re missing out on precious time with their families that they’ll never get back.  And it certainly doesn’t matter that the powers that be decided to cut off the internet, the troops' only means of communication with the outside world, a few days earlier than they said they would.

This is war, after all.  And the premature loss of an over-priced, unreliable internet service is nothing in the grand scheme of things.  But to me, and to the other wives and children and families that have relied so heavily on that daily contact, it feels like everything.  The fact that I never went more than 24 hours without hearing my husband’s voice and seeing his face (albeit through video chat) is what has kept me sane.   That’s gone now.

And so my heart, the one that I was so sure couldn’t possibly be damaged further, the one that’s been broken and stepped on and shredded into thousands of tiny pieces repeatedly over the past five months of this deployment, has been shattered again, into millions of tattered, unrecognizable, miniscule specks.  My husband is really, truly gone now.  And I have no idea when he’s coming back.

Day 138: "Why Women Cry"

(Author Unknown)

God said: "When I made the woman, she had to be made special. I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort.

I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.

I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.

I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly.

I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.

I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.

And lastly, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers and only hers, exclusively, to use whenever she needs it.

She needs no reason, no explanation, it's hers.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides."

Day 137: "Enough"

“Anyone can give up, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength.”

For the past four and a half months, I’ve been doing my best to “hold it together” all on my own.  I knew my husband’s deployment was going to be one of the most difficult things I’d ever been through, and I was determined to stick it out.  I knew there would be sleepless nights and countless tears and more heartache than I could bare.  It was what I expected.  So I ignored suggestions that I start taking anti-anxiety medication or start seeing a therapist.  It’s not that I have anything against taking medication or going to therapy, I’m sure there are lots of situations in which they’re helpful and maybe even necessary.

But there’s not a pill out there that will keep my husband safer in Iraq.  And there are no words anyone can say to take the pain of his absence away, or the worry out of my day.  So what would be the point?  The man I love is halfway around the world, fighting in a war. I’m supposed to be sad and scared and worried.  Those are natural emotions to have in a situation like this.  I was so sure I could handle it, that I was strong enough.

But at what point do you say “enough”?  At what point do you admit that you’re not as strong as you thought, and that you can’t do it all on your own?  When do you reach your breaking point?  For me, it was when my stress and anxiety started affecting me physically instead of just mentally.  Without going into detail, I’ll just say that I had no idea there were so many ways that stress can affect our bodies.  Once it reaches a certain stage, it’s no longer just an emotion, it can literally make you sick.

With actual, visual proof that my stress and anxiety were getting the best of me, I had to face the facts.  I needed help.  I couldn’t just keep hanging on, waiting for this deployment to end.  Because I wasn’t hanging on anymore, I was drowning.  So I made an appointment with my doctor to discuss my options.  Today was my appointment.  Not surprisingly, the options presented to me were….medication and therapy. 

Therapy, while a nice thought, is simply not something I have time for right now.  The thought of trying to squeeze another thing into my already jam-packed schedule does nothing but make me feel more overwhelmed and stressed.  It’s just not a realistic option.  At all.  So, after almost five months of fighting it, I will join the ranks of millions of other Americans who rely on pharmaceuticals to “fix them”.

Maybe.  I took that first step.  I went to the doctor.  I admitted that I need help.  I got a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication, and another one for a sleep-aid.  I have them both, folded in half, inside my purse.  But whether I will actually take that next step and go get them filled is a whole other question entirely…

Day 136: "Where You Used To Be"

Day 135: "Girls Night"

When my husband left for Iraq, I didn't really know what to expect.  I knew coping with his deployment was going to test my limits, and that it was going to be one of the hardest things I'd ever been through.  But I also knew that whatever came, I had a solid circle of friends to help me through it.

So it was a painful thing, coming to the realization that some of my friendships weren't quite as strong as I'd always thought, and that my support system wasn't as vast as I'd hoped it would be.  Especially since this deployment has been more difficult for me than I ever could have imagined.  Maybe my expectations were too high, maybe my emotions were too fragile...whatever it was, I felt like I'd been all but abandoned by some of the people I loved the most.


I was hurt, I was angry, and I felt betrayed and isolated.  But as the months passed, I accepted the situation for what it was.  I wasn't going to shut my friends out of my life simply because they didn't react to my husband's deployment and my subsequent spiral into depression the way I thought they should.  I would be lying if I said that it doesn't still bother me sometimes, but I'm not one to dwell on things.  Nor am I one to take for granted what I do have, which is a few girlfriends who have been absolutely fantastic through all of this.


They call, just to see how I'm doing.  They send me silly texts and emails just to make me smile.  They don't take offense when I don't want to go out, or when I cancel plans at the last minute because I simply can't pull myself out of bed.  They understand that I don't want to go out to the bar and get wasted, or go clubbing downtown.  They know that what I need is movie nights and girl talk and chocolate.  Lots and lots of chocolate.

Oddly enough,  two of the girls that have become my biggest support have ties to military men.  One of them grew up an Army Brat, and the other used to date a man in uniform.  I guess it's not so odd, now that I think about it, that they seem to be the only ones besides my fellow Army Wives who understand, at least in some capacity, the enormity of what I'm facing.


Last night, the three of us had a girls' night.  We were supposed to go to the movies, but as I tend to do a lot lately, I backed out.  I thought about canceling all together, about pretending to be sick so I didn't have to do my hair and makeup and find something cute to where, so that I didn't have to put on my fake smile and pretend like I'm fine when I'm not.  I thought about just staying in my pajamas all day, watching Lifetime movies, and wallowing in my misery.  But then I remembered that there's a middle ground.  We moved our movie night to my house.  Jeans and t-shirts and junkfood and alcohol was definitely something I could handle.  And, I decided, it was something I needed.


So I rented movies, we ordered pizza, got ice cream, and had beer in the fridge and frozen mixed drinks in the freezer.  And then we convened on the big comfy couch (my overstuffed sectional that comfortably sits five or six) in our sweats and ponytails and started talking.  And talking.  And talking.


The movies went unwatched, the alcohol went unconsumed, and the ice cream went unopened.  We were too busy talking about anything and everything, only a very small portion of which was Army-related.  It almost reminded me of a middle school sleepover, the kind we used to have back before life got in the way, before cell phones and facebook and texting became a constant distraction.  It was perfect.  And definitely much needed.


I feel like a lot of people avoid me right now because they don't know what to say or do.  I realized last night that it's a lot easier than even I realized.  Say anything.  And we can do nothing at all.  It's that simple.  We live in a chaotic world.  We're all busy and stressed and often overwhelmed.  With all the different methods we use to keep in touch these days, we feel like we're staying connected, when really we're not.  When it comes down to it, what I need, what I think we all need, regardless of who we are or what we're going through, is just each other.  People we can laugh with and cry with and confide in.  What we all need, every once in a while, is a "Girls' Night".

Day 134: "The Storm Before The Calm"

We're all familiar with the calm before the storm, that brief moment when things seem perfect, peaceful and quiet...and then the storm hits and blows it all apart.  Sometimes it's a literal storm, and sometimes it isn't.  This past week, I've been trying to gear myself up for the exact opposite, the storm before the calm, which is something else entirely.


For security reasons (what we military folk call OPSEC), I can't share a lot of details, so I apologize in advance if this sounds vague.  But soon, very soon, there will be some big changes in regards to my husband's deployment.  The end result will be, of course, the end of the deployment, and I can't wait for that.  But before that....


Before that, my husband will have to leave Iraq and go somewhere else.  Somewhere closer and safer than Iraq, but still thousands of miles too far away.  He'll be somewhere calm, somewhere friendly, somewhere where he'll have a somewhat regular schedule and won't be running dangerous missions on a daily basis.  He won't be home, so our nightmare won't be completely over, but things will at least be calm.


To get to the calm, however, we will have to weather a violent, devastating, heartbreaking storm.  His job will get considerably more dangerous.  And during that time, we will have no contact.  At all.  I will be about a thousand times more worried about him than I have at any other point during this deployment, and I won't have the comfort of hearing his voice or seeing his face through video chat to make me feel better about any of it.


He won't be able to call me in my mornings to wake me up, or right before I go to sleep to tell me sweet dreams.  When I'm so worried that I can't even think straight, I won't be able to comfort myself with the knowledge that I'll hear from him soon.  Because it will be days, possibly weeks, before I'm able to talk to him again.


It will be exactly what I feared his deployment would be when he first left.  Long stretches of time with no contact, me not having any clue where he is or what he's doing or whether or not he's safe.  I'll have to find a way to rely on my faith, which up until now has only had to get me through a few hours at a time, never more than a day.  Never weeks.


I'm trying so hard not to let myself think about the storm that's coming.  I'm trying to make the best of the time we have now, and enjoy the "routine" we've become accustomed to during my husband's deployment.  And I'm trying to focus on the fact that soon, there will be calm.  We just have to make it through this storm first... 

Day 133: "The Numbers"

One year, countless 'I love yous', four kids, two wedding rings, one deployment, thousands of kisses, and one sensible mini-van later....I still get butterflies every time I think of you.

Happy One Year Anniversary, Baby!

Day 132: "The Wait"

I've never been a patient person.  At all.  That, I think, has been one of the biggest struggles for me as an Army Wife.  Learning to be patient.  There's a reason one of the most common sayings around my husband's base is "Hurry up and wait."  Because that's what we're always doing...waiting.  Waiting for decisions to be made, waiting for answers, waiting for information that's going to impact our lives in major ways.  Waiting, waiting, waiting.


I'm waiting for my husband's contract to be up so that he can come home for good.  I'm waiting for this God-awful deployment to be over so that I can start breathing again.  I wait, counting down the days until the next time I get to see him.  And I wait for him to call.  Always, always, I'm waiting for him to call.


Since he gets no cell service in Iraq (shocking, no?), I don't have a way to contact my husband directly.  If there is a real emergency, I would contact the Red Cross and they would go about locating and notifying him.  But for the little, everyday things, some of which are pressing matters, all I can do is send him an email or a facebook message and then wait.


Usually, the wait isn't that bad.  We talk every day, multiple times a day.  We have somewhat of a routine, and I usually know when I can expect to hear from him.  But it's days like today that kill me. Last night, my husband went out on a mission.  I was half hoping, half expecting to wake up this morning to a message from him saying that he'd made it back safely and was going to bed or going to work on his truck and would call me later.  I'm still waiting for that message.


To make matters worse, I haven't seen any of my husband's "battle buddies" on-line today, either, which means one of two things.  Either the internet is out or they are in "black-out" mode.  Black-outs are an awful, awful thing.  And the threat of one increases my stress and worry factor exponentially.  A black-out means that something bad has happened, and the guys have been banned from using the internet so that they can't talk about it to people back home.


There have been two black-outs since my husband has been in Iraq.  One when one of his Batallion's convoys was attacked while out on a mission, and one a couple weeks ago when a member of his Company was killed in an accidental shooting.  Until the families had been notified and the official statement had been released, no one was allowed to get on-line for fear of misinformation and rumors being spread.


I'm sure my husband is fine.  I've been telling myself that since I got up this morning.  Either he's busy or the internet is out, and I'll hear from him soon.  In the meantime, I'm trying to ignore the knot in the pit of my stomach and the voice in my head telling me something's wrong.  I refuse to allow my imagination to get the best of me.  I'm trying to hold off the fear and the panic that's starting to set in, because I know it will just lead to another anxiety attack.


It's days like today that make being an Army Wife the worst job in the world.  It's days like today that make me hate my husband's job.  It's days like today that make me feel like I won't survive another day of this deployment.  And it's days like today that make me feel like the wait is going to kill me.