Stop the Ride, I Wanna Get Off!

Ugh. Things have been what seems like a nonstop party for this entire month. The problem is, a lot of work goes into hosting parties. Every weekend there is an event for something or someone. Throughout the week, there are babysitting kids, house cleaning, volunteer commitments, and commitments to my husband.

I feel as though I have been trying to keep a lot of people happy, but not one of them is me. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing everyone. I love having a house full of people. I love the energy of all those people having a great time. But, at some point in time everyone has to go home. This month is seems like there hasn’t been any point in time when we haven’t had a visitor, or I haven’t had a meeting. Or both.

My girlfriend decided to sell Pampered Chef. So there was an open house at her place, and, of course, I hosted a party at my house. And for some crazy reason, on the day I hosted her PC party I decided to have a garage sale! Oh, not just any garage sale, but a multi-family garage sale. Yes, I brought other people’s junk over to sit among my gathered crap.

I’ve had Family Readiness meetings and training on base on a few separate occasions. Those are fun, but we only have one vehicle. I have to get up extra early in the morning to get myself ready and to take my husband in to work, before I can get where I need to be. That means the kids are all at the secondary babysitter’s house about an hour longer than necessary.

For some mixed up reason, I decided now would be a good time for me to start a new business venture. Yeah, what was I thinking, right? I am now a Tastefully Simple Independent Consultant. I love the product. It’s food, it practically sells itself! But as with any direct sales, I have to put myself out there to succeed. That means more parties! Now I’m not just having them at my house, but I’m messing up other people’s houses, too. Yay! Did I mention we already had a business meeting?

As the month draws to a close, my husband and I are going out of town on a weekend retreat. Just the two of us. No kids, no dogs, no guests. What are we going to do without distractions? I’m not sure we’ll be able to sustain conversation! When we return to civilization, I’ve booked family photos. It’ll be Halloween, and we’ll be attending (not hosting!) a party and then taking the girls trick or treating.

But the holiday season is just starting! There is the Marine Corps Birthday. Veteran’s Day. A girlfriend’s 21st birthday soiree. Battalion events. Thanksgiving. Christmas parties.

Did I say Christmas? You know what that means? Oh, the Christmas present shopping! The Christmas cards and newsletters. Post office shipping deadlines. Ugh, my head is spinning. Stop this ride, I’m getting off!

Back to Work, Please?

It’s been two months since my husband stepped off that bus. I’m ready for him to go back to working a full day. I spent six and a half months pining after this man. Now after eight weeks, I can’t wait to get rid of him again!

Why is it we miss them when they’re gone, but all it takes is the pressing of that power button on the Playstation for us to become annoyed again? There are some days when I want to throw another hairbrush at the television. (That’s another long story.)

In all honesty, my husband does ask first when he wants to play Call of Duty. And, yes, I tell him that it’s okay. But that’s only because he’s been around the house day in and day out for weeks now, and I don’t know what else to do with the man!

The “Honeymoon Phase” did not happen for us until after he returned from a visit back to our home state. When he first returned from overseas, our alone time was cut short by the fact that we have young children, and dogs, and I have a job as a babysitter. So, as I was running nonstop, wiping noses and behinds, my husband was playing video games, smoking, and playing with the dogs. Not to mention napping on the couch in the middle of the day. Yes, I did start to resent him.

He went back to Iowa for a week, to visit family and get away from the Marine Corps for awhile. I suddenly wanted him back again. Ah, how distance makes our hearts grow fonder. Late night phone calls, flirty text messages, he even had flowers delivered. Who was this new husband of mine?

He returned to North Carolina, the flirting (and such) continued, and then his leave was over. Something about clocking in from 0730-0930 (tough, tough schedule those first few weeks back) made him restless. He has rearranged the living room with me. We’ve bought new furniture. My husband even became so bored as to sand and repaint a couple end tables for me.

Now what? He’s reached Prestige three times. He shuts off the Playstation, because he gets “sick of playing.” I don’t have any more Kilz for him to repaint more furniture. I’ve even got him unloading the dishwasher, but there’s not enough room for both of us in my kitchen. Someone take my husband, please!

But don’t forget to return him, because I will miss him. Then, you can take him again.

Why I Write

Originally written on 22 Oct 09 Thursday

I write, because at times it is safer than speaking. I write, because it is always easier than saying things out loud. I am terrified of public speaking. I write to love. I write to hate. I write when I am afraid. I write to feel brave. Writing feels safe. I write to be close. I write to keep my distance. I write to entertain, to create laughs and giggles. I write to inform. I write to communicate. I write an annual "family newsletter." I write for celebrations. I write to express condolences. I write to see inside my own head and heart. I write to keep things to myself. I write to cook. I write to clean. I write to be dirty. I write to be naughty.... I write, because it can be dangerous. I write to feel free, to spin around in circles, arms outstretched, face turned up to the sun. I write to feel passion. I write to inspire. I write to remember to be inspired. I write for sweet smelling flowers. Sometimes I write numbers. I write to pay bills. I write, because I didn't go to college and get my own career. I write, because I don't want to go to college. I write, because my husband can't spell. I write, because I love the melodic flow of my pen across the paper. I write, because I love words like "onomatopoeia." I write colors, smells, sights, feelings. I write, because that is what I'm driven to do. I write songs. I write emotions. I write for the public. I write for the utmost privacy. I write respect. I write compliments. I write scathing insults. I write for spite. I write hugs. I write kisses. I write "dot dot dot." I write flowing brooks, rustling leaves, and pungent aromas. I write driving rains, ominous clouds, and foreboding fogs. I write on the run. I write in the sand. I once wrote on my desk at school. I write expressions. I write meditations. I write dreams. I write heartaches. I write loving memories. I write for the love of friends. I write for my children. I write for my husband. I write for the ones I love. I write, because I love.

Almost Homecoming

Homecoming is right around the corner for us. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t scared shitless, because I am. I have no clue what to expect from my husband. He has seemed to be “normal” for most of this deployment, but the last few times I’ve talked with him, something changed. He’s not the same guy that I remembered. I could almost hear something that sounded like defeat in his voice.

He’s also started being a bit insensitive. It hasn’t seemed as though he was taking my feelings into consideration. I understand that he’s got a lot on his mind, but he does still have a family back home, and a wife that would like to hear that he still loves her once in a while. There are days when it gets very hard to keep my frustration in check. Those are the days when he is very lucky that I can’t call him, and give him a piece of that frustration.

This is our first deployment. I find myself often with my arms outstretched, palms facing upward. Hoping for an idea of what I should be thinking, and feeling, to come to me. There are days when I think I know what’s going on, but lately those days have been few and far between. For a time, I was going through the motions: feed the children, feed the dogs, clean up after the children, clean up after the dogs, bathe the children, bathe the dogs. Day in and day out, until suddenly I realized that it was already July.

An unexpected shake up finds me expecting my husband home a couple weeks early. There are parts of me that are ecstatic to see him, and others that would rather I had that time back to prepare. Or even longer. I feel guilty for not being completely over the moon to see him, but everyone keeps telling me that he’s going to come back a changed man. Will it be good, or bad? And if he does change for the better, will it stick?

What about the kids? The children are now 2 and 3, they know that Daddy has been at work for a very long time. He’s been off helping the good people, and fighting the bad guys. I have finally told them that Daddy will be home soon, and that we need to get ready for it. But, how do you get toddlers ready for homecoming? Is the youngest going to remember him? Or run screaming for the hills when this stranger in cammies comes at her and asks for a hug?

And the dogs, oh the dogs! Anyone that’s been to my house, knows how my fur-children react to strangers. They have been Momma’s girls for the last six months, who is this guy suddenly trying to discipline them and telling them when and where to poo? I think that will be a very loud reunion.

On the flip side, what if they all completely take to my husband’s return? I have been caring for all of them for so long, I’m not sure I’m ready to give up the crown just yet. I like being the ultimate force in the house. Now I have to share that power? I don’t know how I feel about that.

Don’t get me wrong, there are things that I’m looking forward to. I miss having someone come home to me everyday. I can’t wait to share disciplining-that is tiring after a while. We have some very headstrong princesses in our kingdom. I am so looking forward to having someone to pick up the dog poo. And of course the intimacy, he he he, the intimacy.

This is a very scary place to be right now. Do the positive and negative possibilities cancel each other out? Will everyone behave? Will the flights land on time, and will everything run smoothly so that I’ll get him back when planned? Did he actually shave off the Afghanistache?

My husband and I have never been apart for this long. Very soon we’ll know if we were successes, or otherwise. He’ll see all the things I changed in the house. All the events that were held in our home. He’ll see the ghetto dog kennel that was erected in our backyard. And hopefully, he’ll see just how much we missed having him home with us.

Our Marine Corps, Our Family

They say that the Marine Corps is a family, and I’d like to believe that. And, there is no better time to witness the Marine Corps family in action, than during a deployment. I know that were it not for the support of my sisters in arms, I would have gone mad by now.

First of all, it starts with our wonderful Family Readiness Officer, Mrs. Mary Mathews. She has been given the responsibility of overseeing the welfare of not only the Marines of the unit, but also their families. There are somewhere around 700 Marines in my husband’s unit. That’s a lot of guys, and then you add in the spouses, children, parents and whoever else the Marine chooses. It’s enough to make your head spin!

That woman deserves every penny of her salary, and then some. She has even helped friends of mine whose husbands are not in her unit. And for the first four months of this deployment, she did it all on her own. She had absolutely no volunteers. Give that woman a medal! And some cherry cordials, they’re her favorite.

I have received I don’t know how many calls from women, not because they were in the hospital or having an emergency, but because a friend was. And if for some reason that young mother needs to stay in the hospital overnight, there are a number of people ready to step up and babysit.

This sisterhood that was formed the day that our Marines left warms my heart. I spoke with Mary once (after yet another crisis had occurred) and asked her, “has anyone ever had a deployment this eventful?” She answered, “With this many trips to the hospital, I don’t know. But, they definitely have more wife drama!” And you know what? As much as I don’t wish anyone to the ER, I prefer this to the drama.

I would rather us banding together in times of need, than stabbing each other in the back. Our men are overseas fighting for freedom, and to make sure the fight stays over there. And back home, the women have nothing better to do than to say bad things about each other, and call one another names? I have a problem with that. You ladies need to find a better use for your time.

Not to say that this unit is without its drama, but even that showed our cohesiveness. When one person tried to stir the pot, it made the rest of us even closer. We learned who are friends were, and what was good for our group. We stood together proud of ourselves, proud of our Marines, proud to be Marine wives, and not afraid to tell the world.

We’re closing in on homecoming now, and it seems the chaos has changed type. Plans are being made by wives not in the area, to move here. Parties are being held to make banners for loved ones. Baby showers are being thrown for little ones that just can’t wait for daddy. Wives are reuniting and resparking friendships. Or meeting for the first time, and finding kindred spirits.

Pre-homecoming Meet and Greets are in the organizational stages. And I’ve already had more than one wife (or mother) tell me that this isn’t their first deployment, but it is the first get together of this type. I would love to meet the person standing next to me, waiting to charge the busses, before that day. To have a chance to share stories in a more relaxed setting. (Of course, preferably one where I’m able to stuff my face.) So that when we’re standing there Homecoming day, I’m not afraid to spark a conversation and make the time fly by faster.

It’s been a long week, I’m quite tired. But I find comfort in knowing that I have a telephone full of numbers that I can call to find a sitter if I need a moment. Or if I need someone to listen as I vent about the week’s hardships. I also relish in knowing that all those people in my contact list, or out in the Facebook world, know that they can call on me at any time. Be it at 1430 or 0230, I will always answer.

I could not have made it through this deployment without the constant support and reassurance I get from those ladies. Thank you CLB-6 sisters, for reminding me that not all the horror stories about us are true. The Marine Corps is a family. A small, at times, very tight knit family. And it’s almost time for a Family Reunion.