Day 28

Birthdays are highly overrated.
He tried really hard to make it as special as he could while being far, far away.
I tried really hard to enjoy my day, but it was just a rather dull day without him here. Everyday is a dull day when he is not here to share it with me. Birthdays and holidays have an extra dullness to them compared to  all the others.
I had some of THE most wonderful birthday wishes on FB and plurk.  But amazing, fantastic, wonderful, spectacular, and outstanding are words that I would not use to describe the kind of day I had. I had a good day, it was by NO means a bad day, but it really felt just like any other Friday. It didn't feel special.  Only 1 out of 3 of my boys said Happy Birthday to me. The teen had the nerve to argue with me over what day my birthday was, "Today is NOT your Birthday." me:"Yes, it is." teen: NO, it's not. Your birthday is Saturday." me: "uh, No. I think I know when my own birthday is!" That was the extent of any acknowledgment from him, and that was at 6PM!All brought on by one of this brothers making some comment about it being my birthday.
I meant to bake my own cake. Sure, I could have easily bought one but I wanted to treat myself with an amazing homemade cake. It just didn't happen. Maybe tomorrow. It is my birthday weekend.
Birthdays are highly overrated!

Day 23

2 years ago when my husband was gone last, I thought it would be a good idea to buy a fake Christmas tree. We normally get a real tree but with hubby gone I didn't trust myself to tie a real one to the top of the car(think:  Christmas tree Mayhem commercial) or use the saw to trim the trunk. I really thought a fake one, pre-lit even, would be super easy.
After spending the past 2 days wrapping each Hallmark ornament and placing them in their individual boxes, then into the big ornament tub, taking down/apart the fake tree and getting it back in its box, I take it back. It was not super easy. Those 3 pieces of fake tree were  SO hard to get back in the box. Not to mention the box is SO SUPER HEAVY and BIG making it really awkward to move.
Now I know why, one year during my childhood, my Mom tossed the fake tree down our basement steps! If I had a basement, it would have been tossed!

At least it's pretty.

Day 20

Every time my husband is gone, about 3-4 months prior to his return I start window shopping, online window shopping, at good ole Vicki's Secret!   When I find the items that I think he'd love(and me too), I usually end up spending too much $$. When I receive those items, they never look as awesome on me as I thought they would. This time, I have made a promise to myself. I promise not to shop, or even LOOK at what Vicki is peddling unless I am at my goal weight AND  maintaing that weight!!! This is not me saying I'm going on a diet, it just means that Vicki's Secret is off limits until I can be accountable for my own health and well being by maintaing a healthy weight for my body!

Day 19

 I was at the grocery store last week and the amount of men in that store was overwhelming. I'd never seen that many men in that store, ever. A good amount were alone or with buddies, but the majority were with their spouses.  I knew that a bunch of guys had just returned home from their year away. As I walked the aisles doing my shopping I watched the others do the same. Some looked happy to be doing this household chore with their wives, but quiet honestly most of them looked like they would rather be anywhere else but there, obviously not where they just came back from(that's a given).
I made a promise right then and there while waiting in the checkout line. I promise that I will not make my husband go grocery shopping with me when he gets back. If he wants to go with me that is his choice and he is more than welcome to, but I will not ask, beg, plead, or force him to go.
I do remember what it is like when he first gets back from being gone for a year, I don't want to be away from him for a second. I would do anything to spend every moment possible in his presence, but I won't do that.

Day 17

I've learned when things don't work out the way you planned you just need to roll with it. 

It's okay to make goals for your day, but when you fall completely short do not beat yourself up. I'm a pro at beating myself up. Not beating myself up over missed goals or expectations not met is probably one of my biggest challenges. 

Cutting myself some slack is a goal I have set for myself for this year. 

Yesterday I planned on taking the boys outside for a walk on the nature trail. It  was supposed to be unseasonably warm, a gorgeous day. No one left the house. 

It all started with my search for a box filled with stationary. It ended in our master bedroom getting de-cluttered. The box I was searching for? Right next to my computer desk the whole time.

I didn't beat myself up once.

Day 15

Today I remembered how listening to the soundtracks of our love can make me feel like my husband is whispering the lyrics right into my heart.
Each song is a musical love letter he left behind to lift my spirits, to give me strength.
Through these he is here with me, I am there with him, and we will always be together in our dreams.
I love you, baby.

Day 14

Half a month down! Woo hoo! That sounds way better than 2 weeks down. Let's not look at how many weeks or months are left, m'kay?!  M'kay!  I can't seem to get a good nights sleep. I am so fucking tired, you'd think once I fell asleep I'd be out until the alarm goes off but NOOOOOOO! At least the past 3 nights, if not 4 or 5, I have been up around 3:30AM. I am still awake when my alarm goes off at 5:15-5:30 and feel like I was awake for those 2 hours. It is really pissing me off!

I know I don't looked pissed but I sure look tired.
It also looks like I am sneakily flipping the bird!

If you look real close you can see what I got in that tiny little box, in that tiny little bag, that I will wear the rest of this year until he is home safe.

Day 13

Eating crow sucks. It is nasty. Turns out what I thought he didn't do, he did. The straw was unnecessarily placed. Something else would have been the straw in a few days time for sure, that load was overflowing and I knew it was about to break me. It was only a matter of time. I just feel horrible that it was something that involved stressing my husband out even more than he already is, and unnecessarily stressing him out too! I feel like such a schmuck! I feel like a big piece of shit.

Yesterday I bought all 3 boys their own stamps to put on their letters to Dad. I got each one something different yet specific to their individual self. I thought it was an awesome idea!  They were rather eh about it.  Kids.

Day 12

I'm tired. Literally and figuratively tired.
I'm tired of such depressing posts, but I am keepin' it real. I don't shove sunshine up the masses asses nor do I sugar coat anything! I am staying true to me and what is going on, how I am really, truly feeling. I'm just tired of it. Tired of feeling it too.

I really, REALLY want to give up. More than ever before, I want to give up. No matter how badly I CRAVE to give up, I know that giving up is not an option.

At work, I do have to put on a face. I have to fake it SO FUCKING HARD that I am SO FUCKING drained when I leave. I keep hoping it will get better, or easier. That it will be less of a drain. I feel like it just takes everything out of me. Fake it till you make it applies at work. I hate faking it. I hate putting on that mask and acting like all is right in my world, when it feels like NOTHING is right in my world. I do know that plenty is right in my world. I'm alive and well. So are my boys. I think my husband is. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, heat, running water... I mean the list is really long.
Perspective is a challenge, to say the least.

I'll just keep on swimming...

Day 11

Today I sank. I went under. I couldn't breath.
Today I longed for the days when I cried at the drop of a hat. I don't like feeling like this.
Today I found out he didn't do something that is imperative for me to have while he is away.
Today that was the straw that broke my back.

Day 10

I'm just trying to keep my head above water.

So far, so good, even though it feels like such a struggle.

Day 9

Hearing his voice makes my heart smile.

Day 8

Let me tell you what NOT to ask a person whose husband/wife has just left them and their family to spend a year in the sand box:

"How are you doing?"

I have been asked that question at least 4 times in the past 24hrs! AND!!!! By people whose spouse is gone too, or their spouse has been gone before.
That is probably why it irritates the shit out of me! I wanna scream:
"You are going through the same fucking thing I am!! How the fuck do you think I'm doing?! I'm on auto pilot just like you are!"

Granted not everyone copes with this in the same way, not everyone has the same type of personality. It's clear by my previous posts that I am an emotional person, it doesn't take much to make me cry even when he is here. I cry reading books, watching tv shows, movies, even some commercials! There are people that do not cry, they have other ways to release all that sadness,fear, and all the other emotions that come up with this. Some people stay busy. Some have to totally rearrange their house down to painting every room a different color.

No matter how we choose to cope, we are all on some form of auto pilot flying through the same damn shitstorm so don't fucking ask me how I'm doing!

Day 7

A week? It feels like a month since I last saw him. 

I did get to hear his voice yesterday, finally!!! Phone calls from him always brighten my day.

Right now I am emotionally and mentally exhausted. 

I feel like I am walking around like an empty shell. 

Yesterday I had to go to the neighboring town to return some overdue books, I spent almost the entire 30 minute drive crying.  When I parked the car I said to myself, Maybe I am not ready to be among the public.  It all started, less than 2 minutes from my house, when I saw the back window of a vehicle that had painted on the words, "Daddy's Back Home!!"  Tears started to roll and I tried to pull it together but it seemed to be one thing after another.  At least I wasn't doing the Ugly cry, I would have had to pull over and stop for that.  My shut off valve is broken.  My emotion tank is overflowing.  My stress level is through the roof.  I'm scatterbrained, and at the same time feel like my brain is fried. (do those mean the same thing? I've been racking my mushy/charred brain and as far as I'm concerned, they do not have the same meaning)

This coming week has got to be better than this last one. I'm not sure how much more of this I can handle. I know, deep down or in the back of my mind somewhere, that it will get better. We will get into a new routine, a new norm, I'll cope better with my intense emotions. Things will simmer down.

Even though I know it will come, when you are in the thick of it, it feels damn near impossible and unimaginable. 

Day 6

My hubby usually never made it home before me, so those times that he did it was a joy to see his car in the driveway. My heart would skip a beat, or two. Seeing his car in the driveway earlier than expected always made me so happy!

I took his car to work my first day back, and yesterday I took mine. Driving down our street I saw his car in our driveway and my heart skipped a beat and said, "He's home!!!!!"

Reality stabbed me in the heart and twisted that knife around s-lll-lowww-ly.

Pulling into the driveway already in tears with my heart aching, I see a delivery sticker on my door and a tiny box on the doormat.
I ordered something special before he left. It had finally arrived.
I was full on crying before the door was closed behind me.
I walked super slow through the house, crying.
I put my stuff down and opened the tiny box, through tears.
I took off the bubble wrap.
The crying then turned into the ugly cry; sobbing uncontrollably, not being able to catch my breath, the loudness. There is no quiet in ugly cry.
I guess it was time. Today was my first ugly cry, there will be more.

This is what was in the tiny box, wrapped in bubble wrap. I haven't even opened the plastic bag, but there is something even more tiny in that bag.
 I will wear it for the rest of the year.

Day 5

I thought I was starting to zoom along on some kind of auto-piolt, then WHAM! 

found his packing list on the couch

tingly nose

watery eyes

I'm so sick of this. I want to get past this stage. I want to stop welling up at dumb shit, at little things, at random things, at things that almost have no connection to him but it's like some sick twisted version of 7 degrees of hubby.

Nicholas Sparks said it best, "The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected."

Oh fuck! 

tingly

watery

ache in my chest.

Day 4

I go back to work today, after being off for Christmas break. I am thankful for the distraction and getting back to routine. It also happens to be another one of those things that I have to do without him. No, we didn't work together. We left the house at the same time. We got to enjoy each others company in the morning, he helped out some with the boys, we had our coffee together.  There are tons of little daily things that when they happen for the first time, sometimes for the first few times after he has left they make me go,  "OH! sigh. Oh, yeah. I have to do this without him." The list of things that fall solely on my shoulders grows and grows and grows!! For the most part it's not that I mind having to do all these things on my own, it's that he is not here to share it with. Maybe help ease the load a little.
I know that he has his own equally heavy load, if not heavier, to carry while he is away from me.
These "firsts" without him make me miss him more, like that is even possible... pshaw! As if!
But they do and it is possible.
Honestly, it's not so much about sharing the load as it is sharing our life together.

Day 3

This is the point where I instate the mantra. "No news is good news."
Repeat until I have brainwashed myself into believing it.
The first couple of weeks the calls and emails are few and far between. It sucks.
I try to remind myself that my grandparents only form of communication was snail mail, and how long that took to get back and forth during WW II and the Korean War. Not to mention he was gone longer than one year and no visit home.
Compared to that we've got it good. I'm blessed for the quick communication that we have.
It's days like this, I'm thankful this isn't my Grandpas war.

Day 2

Sundays are laundry days.
I dread the first laundry day after he's gone.
I usually only put in a few of his clothes. Sometimes I can drag this out for at least the first month. I really hate the day when his clothes are no longer in the clean laundry that I fold. It is another reminder that he is gone. One would think that I know he is gone, because he is not here. I do, but I am also used to him being gone for weeks and sometimes just a couple months at a time. I have some sub-concious thing that kicks in when he leaves and for the first 3 months or so I'm in "he's just away at some school and will be back soon" mode. I cannot stress enough how this is a sub-concious thing. I do not tell myself these things, I do not intentionally think this way. It is a coping mechanism. I've never thought much about it before, but having gone through many separations I am now really analyzing it this time around. Maybe it is because the last year long separation is still so fresh in my mind since he just got back from that one a year ago. I know I'll write about laundry again when I run out of his things to wash.
For today, I will just wash 3 things.
3 is a magic number, so I've heard.