Writing emails to myself is a coping mechanism I have adopted this deployment.
I might have done it once or twice last deployment, but I am up to two or three a month this time.
Not only does a deployment take a spouse physically away from the other one, but the emotional support seems to disappear too. Not to say that deployed soldiers are unfeeling cads, more that we, at home, become more careful about what we say. They are in a war zone. They are facing IEDs and other dangers constantly. No one wants to be the spouse who argued with her soldier on the phone, only to never get to speak to him again. They want to hear that all is well back home (because they feel guilty about leaving?), and it seems unfeeling to tell them otherwise. Not to mention that it isn't a good idea. Seems contradictory that less information can be better, but there it is. On the flip side, I prefer to know nothing about whatever is going on over there.
Still, built-up frustration needs a place to go. Some of it can be shared with other spouses, who are, after all, facing the same situation. Kids sometimes get a taste of it, despite a parent's best efforts. I have found that writing emails that aren't sent is the answer for me.
I can write exactly how I am feeling at the moment- no punches pulled, so softer words sought. I can curse the Army and Fate; I can blame God, too. I can write about how AWFUL (in detail) the kids were that day and how I am really running away to a tropical island, and he can have the kids. I can swear that the boys are going to military boarding school. I can recount all of the things I am not doing in my own life (remember your own life? Before this whole Army/war thing?) because he isn't living in our house with me like a "normal" married couple. All of that, and more.
I read it over, and acknowledge that I sound like a raving lunatic.
And then I hit "delete".
No, thanks. No need to save as a draft.
Am I holding back? Yes.
Is holding back helpful at this current juncture of my life? I think so.
Do I feel better? Sure do!
But we're getting closer to that magical reintegration time. I won't be able to hide behind email anymore. I will have to remember how to talk to him, in person, and live with him. It's been awhile. I don't recall much of the time he was home last time. Truthfully, I didn't reintegrate. I started to, but when the word came that he was leaving again, I pulled back. No point to it, I reasoned. I am still leery of him possibly heading back out the door in 12 or so months. He says that the numbers are on our side. I, however, don't think Human Resource Command is on our side.
Maybe we'll get lucky, and they'll cancel the war due to lack of interest. Then we can all get back to living, instead of waiting/missing/coping/writing.
14 April 2011
10 April 2011
Never seems to be the right time
Maybe it is because I have a basketball team plus one sub, but time seems to skip from "too soon" to "very late" in a flash.
For example, if I try to take all my peeps somewhere, I want to start getting ready about 45 minutes before I want to leave. But that isn't really a good idea, you see. Because I will get everyone ready, and when it's time to walk out the door, someone will have taken off and misplaced his/her shoes, at least 2 kids will need to use the restroom again, somebody will want a snack ("But Mooooommmm, I'm staarrrrrving!") and the other kid will have decided he/she doesn't really want to go. (And my husband doesn't understand why there are times that I think I am on Candid Camera.)
But if I try to wait until 15 minutes before we leave, I get stressed out and crazy trying to herd all my people toward the door. (Ever try to catch a chicken or herd cats? Yeah, it looks a lot like that.) We'll get to the car, but usually 5 minutes past the time we should have arrived at our destination and, by this point, Mommy doesn't feel like going anywhere.
So when to start? That is the magic question.
Next month, I am moving. Again. But this time, I am only moving about 15 miles away. The catch (because I am cursed to live what the Chinese would call an "interesting" life) is that most of my stuff is coming from our last duty station, but a fair amount of stuff is here. And then the kids will get out of school probably a day or two after our household goods arrive. And my husband should arrive a few days after that.
This calls for one of those buckets-o-margarita.
I want to have some semblance of order in the house when my husband arrives. So I want to start packing up the less essential things here and move them there. But when do I start packing? Now? I think it might be too soon- I have nowhere to put boxes and I won't get the keys til the first. Later? That could easily become too late, because Easter is so late and my kids are home from school the last week of April. Not to mention that packing with 6 "helpers" is almost a fruitless endeavor. My three year old will unpack any box she finds, especially if it looks interesting, or has her stuff in it, or if it is a day ending in "y".
So I should start now, before soon becomes late.
ummmm, yeah.
I have lost my grip on time. I realize it is purely conceptual, but I am starting to think it might not even apply to me.
In the middle of all this, I am working towards my teachers certification. I would be done with the coursework already, but I withdrew my packet because the Army told us we were moving out of the state (and naturally changed their minds once the cut off date had passed- Thanks, Army!). I need to be in VA until summer of 2013 to get my 5 year license. Am I already too late? I couldn't do it any sooner. Will I pass this stupid test? I started studying awhile ago, but I think I will run out of time and still not feel ready. Too late? But it was just early.....
Where does the time go? What exactly do I do all day? Why does it take all day? And why does it wear me out?
Oh look, it's late (lol).
And in the morning, it will be too early again.
Round and round we go.....
For example, if I try to take all my peeps somewhere, I want to start getting ready about 45 minutes before I want to leave. But that isn't really a good idea, you see. Because I will get everyone ready, and when it's time to walk out the door, someone will have taken off and misplaced his/her shoes, at least 2 kids will need to use the restroom again, somebody will want a snack ("But Mooooommmm, I'm staarrrrrving!") and the other kid will have decided he/she doesn't really want to go. (And my husband doesn't understand why there are times that I think I am on Candid Camera.)
But if I try to wait until 15 minutes before we leave, I get stressed out and crazy trying to herd all my people toward the door. (Ever try to catch a chicken or herd cats? Yeah, it looks a lot like that.) We'll get to the car, but usually 5 minutes past the time we should have arrived at our destination and, by this point, Mommy doesn't feel like going anywhere.
So when to start? That is the magic question.
Next month, I am moving. Again. But this time, I am only moving about 15 miles away. The catch (because I am cursed to live what the Chinese would call an "interesting" life) is that most of my stuff is coming from our last duty station, but a fair amount of stuff is here. And then the kids will get out of school probably a day or two after our household goods arrive. And my husband should arrive a few days after that.
This calls for one of those buckets-o-margarita.
I want to have some semblance of order in the house when my husband arrives. So I want to start packing up the less essential things here and move them there. But when do I start packing? Now? I think it might be too soon- I have nowhere to put boxes and I won't get the keys til the first. Later? That could easily become too late, because Easter is so late and my kids are home from school the last week of April. Not to mention that packing with 6 "helpers" is almost a fruitless endeavor. My three year old will unpack any box she finds, especially if it looks interesting, or has her stuff in it, or if it is a day ending in "y".
So I should start now, before soon becomes late.
ummmm, yeah.
I have lost my grip on time. I realize it is purely conceptual, but I am starting to think it might not even apply to me.
In the middle of all this, I am working towards my teachers certification. I would be done with the coursework already, but I withdrew my packet because the Army told us we were moving out of the state (and naturally changed their minds once the cut off date had passed- Thanks, Army!). I need to be in VA until summer of 2013 to get my 5 year license. Am I already too late? I couldn't do it any sooner. Will I pass this stupid test? I started studying awhile ago, but I think I will run out of time and still not feel ready. Too late? But it was just early.....
Where does the time go? What exactly do I do all day? Why does it take all day? And why does it wear me out?
Oh look, it's late (lol).
And in the morning, it will be too early again.
Round and round we go.....
03 April 2011
Hitting the (mental) wall
TEN MONTHS!!!! So close, but not close enough.
It reminds me of the first marathon I ran (4 kids ago) in Richmond. I just passed the 22 mile mark and was rather enjoying my first marathon. I had trained well and was feeling fine. There were lots of interesting people to chat with, but one guy I had to leave behind. He said, "I feel like we're never going to get there." That is POISONOUS thinking. I picked up my pace and found a new person to talk to.
I am teetering on the brink of those same type of poisonous thoughts. You know them. You probably have thought some of them. Well, I am going to say them out loud. Verboten, I know. But sometimes seeing those thoughts in black and white robs them of their power.
"What was the point of getting married (or having kids) if he's never going to be here?"
"Good thing we're moving because I have taken over his closet space and his side of the bed."(This statement drips with sarcasm. You want neither his side of the bed, nor his closet space. You want HIM at home, dammit.)
"How are we supposed to reintegrate when he'll probably leave again in 12 months?"
"Of course HE thinks (insert kid's newest trouble making adventure) is funny, he's over THERE. I'd think it was funny from Afghanistan, too."
"Next time, I'LL deploy. HE can stay here with these crazy people."
For those of you without a running problem, "hitting the wall" is the feeling associated with a physiological condition. Be it your pace or food choices, you have depleted the glycogen stores in your muscles. And you feel like crap. Happened to me once on a training run and I will NEVER let it happen again. All you can do is dig deep mentally and use your willpower to drag yourself across that finish line.
I have hit the wall of this deployment. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
I'm tired of being tired, and I think I lost my sense of humor in the car, or maybe at a doctor's office.
I am also fighting the temptation of thinking that my husband's return will be some kind of silver bullet. Like the happiness fairy will sprinkle us with happy dust, and all will be sunshine and roses. We have a long summer of reintegration ahead of us. Last year, I committed a normal Army wife sin- starting to distance oneself emotionally from a soon-to-be-deployed spouse a few months before he (or she) goes. We will have to rebuild those bonds, with 6 kids running amuck in the background.
So there it is.
I'm at 22 miles, 4.2 to go, and feeling like I am never going to see the finish line.
Trying to take it one day at a time (me and the alcoholics). Trying to find just one thing to smile about each day. Digging deep to drag myself across that finish line and into my husband's arms.
It reminds me of the first marathon I ran (4 kids ago) in Richmond. I just passed the 22 mile mark and was rather enjoying my first marathon. I had trained well and was feeling fine. There were lots of interesting people to chat with, but one guy I had to leave behind. He said, "I feel like we're never going to get there." That is POISONOUS thinking. I picked up my pace and found a new person to talk to.
I am teetering on the brink of those same type of poisonous thoughts. You know them. You probably have thought some of them. Well, I am going to say them out loud. Verboten, I know. But sometimes seeing those thoughts in black and white robs them of their power.
"What was the point of getting married (or having kids) if he's never going to be here?"
"Good thing we're moving because I have taken over his closet space and his side of the bed."(This statement drips with sarcasm. You want neither his side of the bed, nor his closet space. You want HIM at home, dammit.)
"How are we supposed to reintegrate when he'll probably leave again in 12 months?"
"Of course HE thinks (insert kid's newest trouble making adventure) is funny, he's over THERE. I'd think it was funny from Afghanistan, too."
"Next time, I'LL deploy. HE can stay here with these crazy people."
For those of you without a running problem, "hitting the wall" is the feeling associated with a physiological condition. Be it your pace or food choices, you have depleted the glycogen stores in your muscles. And you feel like crap. Happened to me once on a training run and I will NEVER let it happen again. All you can do is dig deep mentally and use your willpower to drag yourself across that finish line.
I have hit the wall of this deployment. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
I'm tired of being tired, and I think I lost my sense of humor in the car, or maybe at a doctor's office.
I am also fighting the temptation of thinking that my husband's return will be some kind of silver bullet. Like the happiness fairy will sprinkle us with happy dust, and all will be sunshine and roses. We have a long summer of reintegration ahead of us. Last year, I committed a normal Army wife sin- starting to distance oneself emotionally from a soon-to-be-deployed spouse a few months before he (or she) goes. We will have to rebuild those bonds, with 6 kids running amuck in the background.
So there it is.
I'm at 22 miles, 4.2 to go, and feeling like I am never going to see the finish line.
Trying to take it one day at a time (me and the alcoholics). Trying to find just one thing to smile about each day. Digging deep to drag myself across that finish line and into my husband's arms.
30 March 2011
Rule of Army life #12: Never use pen on a calendar
After several weeks of chasing my tail (almost caught it once), I realized that I have neglected my writing. So easy to put aside those things that we do for ourselves. Whether it is writing or exercising, it is too often the first thing cut. I need to stop doing that. It is the mental equivalent of balancing your budget by cutting the essentials first.
I shouldn't be surprised things have been busy. It is spring (at least, my calendar swears it is) and everyone comes out of their winter sleep to pack my calendar with activities. Add on to that my husband's return (only 60ish days left!) and moving and the end of school.....yeah. I'm going to need a vacation for sure.
I made the foolish error of putting some items on my calendar in pen. Big stuff- like last day of school. Some things are in pencil, either because they were tentative or I couldn't find a pen. I will confess to one item written in crayon, but I have since found all of my pens, so that shouldn't happen again. But from now on, I will ONLY write in pencil. I learned to do that in my address book years ago (only the names are in ink).
One expects a deployment date and travel dates to bounce around (like a high bounce ball :) ), but other things one expects to stay firm. And that is where I went wrong.
Today, I got a call from my kids' school about recess monitor volunteers. I hate doing it in the cold, but it is a great way to see what my kids are up too. The secretary said something about there only being five weeks left in the year (I am only counting down to my husband's return, could care less about school). It went right past me. Then I said Fridays were good, but I couldn't do May 27. She said it wasn't a problem because there was no school that day. I (still clueless) asked if it was a four day weekend and she replied, "No, the last day of school is the 25th." I started to feel the early symptoms of shock. "I thought school ended 3 June?" I asked hopefully. (Like making her say it again would change the answer) "No," she said in her cheerful I'm-not-moving-so-I-think-it's-great voice. "It was changed."
Note the passive voice. Way to cover some one's rear.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????
My kids just got an extra week of vacation and I lost a week of unpacking without their "help". It is a kid's dream and has wreaked complete havoc on my schedule.
Can I move everything back 10 calendar days? Can I possibly do half the stuff I was going to do now that I lost 6 school days to vacation? Does anyone owe me a favor/ feel sorry for me and will help me unpack and watch kids? If so, is their calendar full? Would anyone else like to reschedule anything else before I misplace the white-out again?
The moral of this story is NEVER use pen on your calendar, because it isn't just the Army that will jerk you around.
I shouldn't be surprised things have been busy. It is spring (at least, my calendar swears it is) and everyone comes out of their winter sleep to pack my calendar with activities. Add on to that my husband's return (only 60ish days left!) and moving and the end of school.....yeah. I'm going to need a vacation for sure.
I made the foolish error of putting some items on my calendar in pen. Big stuff- like last day of school. Some things are in pencil, either because they were tentative or I couldn't find a pen. I will confess to one item written in crayon, but I have since found all of my pens, so that shouldn't happen again. But from now on, I will ONLY write in pencil. I learned to do that in my address book years ago (only the names are in ink).
One expects a deployment date and travel dates to bounce around (like a high bounce ball :) ), but other things one expects to stay firm. And that is where I went wrong.
Today, I got a call from my kids' school about recess monitor volunteers. I hate doing it in the cold, but it is a great way to see what my kids are up too. The secretary said something about there only being five weeks left in the year (I am only counting down to my husband's return, could care less about school). It went right past me. Then I said Fridays were good, but I couldn't do May 27. She said it wasn't a problem because there was no school that day. I (still clueless) asked if it was a four day weekend and she replied, "No, the last day of school is the 25th." I started to feel the early symptoms of shock. "I thought school ended 3 June?" I asked hopefully. (Like making her say it again would change the answer) "No," she said in her cheerful I'm-not-moving-so-I-think-it's-great voice. "It was changed."
Note the passive voice. Way to cover some one's rear.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????
My kids just got an extra week of vacation and I lost a week of unpacking without their "help". It is a kid's dream and has wreaked complete havoc on my schedule.
Can I move everything back 10 calendar days? Can I possibly do half the stuff I was going to do now that I lost 6 school days to vacation? Does anyone owe me a favor/ feel sorry for me and will help me unpack and watch kids? If so, is their calendar full? Would anyone else like to reschedule anything else before I misplace the white-out again?
The moral of this story is NEVER use pen on your calendar, because it isn't just the Army that will jerk you around.
07 March 2011
Not a rocket scientist, but still doing fine
Today, I begin the process of rediscovering my inner math-lete.
I have rescheduled my teacher's exams, so I will soon be neck deep in polynomials and the like. Rescheduled, you ask? Yes. I HAD scheduled them for November and March, but the Army said we weren't staying in VA, so I cancelled them. But the Army has since changed its' mind and said we ARE staying in VA, so the tests are back on. Mercifully, it only cost me time, not money.
Back to my inner math-lete.
I tend to think of myself as not particularly good at math. This perception comes from my 4 years spent at what my grandfather jokingly referred to as "Bill Clinton's Finishing School for Young Ladies on the Hudson." I made it through all the wretched math classes there, but they were challenging. And boring, did I mention boring? It left me with the impression that, when it came to math, I was just shy of a moron.
Well, #1 commented the other night (when tripped up by the distributive property) that he was glad he had a mom who was so good at math. Hmm. Thinking back to high school, I aced every honors math class I took. Hmm. Maybe I am good at math, just not ready to be a rocket scientist like some of the super-smart people I went to school with. (Seriously, one guy I know did go work for NASA) And to be fair, it IS an engineering school. Us touchy-feely literature-history types just had to deal with it. Maybe math isn't the problem, maybe I have a perception issue.
This train of thought reminded me of when I graduated and went out to the "real" Army, and all us type As were split up, instead of feeding off of each other. I thought I was on the short side (I'm 5'7") and a slow runner (I used to run 2 miles in 14 minutes because I wouldn't get any more points for going any faster). Turns out I am not short, and I was faster than a fair number of the male soldiers, to include a commander that I wasn't a big fan of. Now THAT was a satisfying 2 mile run ;).
It makes me realize that perceived success all depends on who one chooses to use as a benchmark. So as the kiddos get older, I really have to be on the watch for comparisons between siblings or anyone else.
I also realized that I don't have to ace this teacher exam, so I can relax a little bit. And the pass grade is lower than the pass grade in some of the other subjects. (That concerns me, actually. Why would it be okay for the math teachers to score lower?) This is EASY math, not the imaginary curves in space foisted upon my by my humorless Calc 2 professor.
Time to be a little less hard on myself.
I have rescheduled my teacher's exams, so I will soon be neck deep in polynomials and the like. Rescheduled, you ask? Yes. I HAD scheduled them for November and March, but the Army said we weren't staying in VA, so I cancelled them. But the Army has since changed its' mind and said we ARE staying in VA, so the tests are back on. Mercifully, it only cost me time, not money.
Back to my inner math-lete.
I tend to think of myself as not particularly good at math. This perception comes from my 4 years spent at what my grandfather jokingly referred to as "Bill Clinton's Finishing School for Young Ladies on the Hudson." I made it through all the wretched math classes there, but they were challenging. And boring, did I mention boring? It left me with the impression that, when it came to math, I was just shy of a moron.
Well, #1 commented the other night (when tripped up by the distributive property) that he was glad he had a mom who was so good at math. Hmm. Thinking back to high school, I aced every honors math class I took. Hmm. Maybe I am good at math, just not ready to be a rocket scientist like some of the super-smart people I went to school with. (Seriously, one guy I know did go work for NASA) And to be fair, it IS an engineering school. Us touchy-feely literature-history types just had to deal with it. Maybe math isn't the problem, maybe I have a perception issue.
This train of thought reminded me of when I graduated and went out to the "real" Army, and all us type As were split up, instead of feeding off of each other. I thought I was on the short side (I'm 5'7") and a slow runner (I used to run 2 miles in 14 minutes because I wouldn't get any more points for going any faster). Turns out I am not short, and I was faster than a fair number of the male soldiers, to include a commander that I wasn't a big fan of. Now THAT was a satisfying 2 mile run ;).
It makes me realize that perceived success all depends on who one chooses to use as a benchmark. So as the kiddos get older, I really have to be on the watch for comparisons between siblings or anyone else.
I also realized that I don't have to ace this teacher exam, so I can relax a little bit. And the pass grade is lower than the pass grade in some of the other subjects. (That concerns me, actually. Why would it be okay for the math teachers to score lower?) This is EASY math, not the imaginary curves in space foisted upon my by my humorless Calc 2 professor.
Time to be a little less hard on myself.
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