emotional me.

Here it is. The end. I have survived this deployment. Okay, well technically I have fifteen hours and forty seven minutes left, but I think when we're down to hours...it counts as the end. The kids and I made it. At the beginning of this past year (by year I am meaning when my husband deployed) the entire endeavor was very overwhelming. In fact, after we had said our goodbyes and I left him at Fort Bliss, and after everyone had gone home...the overwhelmingness of the entire situation hit me. I remember the moment like it was yesterday. My son (one of the triplets) needed his diaper changed. I felt (up to this point) quite calm...sad...but not having anywhere near to an emotional breakdown. I walked in to his bedroom, laid him down to change him, and it hit me...I would be changing three two year olds diapers, caring for sicknesses, cleaning up vomit, taking hospital trips, countless hospital stays, breathing treatments to do, medications to give, bed tucking ins to do...feedings, cleanings, bathings, bed time story readings, cuddlings, dealing with tantrums, and on and on and on all by myself for four toddlers...for a year. It honestly hit me like a punch in the face. And I lost it. I did the "ugly cry". It was UGLY. I don't even really remember the cry so much as gasping for air and dialing phone numbers because I needed someone to talk to. I called my best friend, Koria. I don't even remember saying hello, I just remember sobbing uncontrollably, and her saying something along the lines of, "You can do this. I know it's hard." And my mom called and then bawling my eyes out with her and her saying similar things.

I remember when we were at the gym (this was our final goodbye place) and they announced that it was time to go. Michael and I were crying, he put on his sunglasses so as to show me a brave face. We hugged and kissed and he walked off. And I stood there watching him walk away, and I just kept thinking to myself, breathe...if you don't breathe you're going to pass out and that won't go well. Breathe...Breathe... I think I blocked everything out because the next thing I knew he grabbed me and whispered in my ear, "Will you come outside with me?" and I said, "Of course!" Then we walked hand in hand outside for him to line up in his formation. When we were finally out in the sunlight, we hugged one last time, and I was crying and we said what we have always said at partings, "I'll be seeing you." Then he walked off. I remember as I stood there, watching them load up on the buses, I thought to myself that this would be the hardest part. The first day is the worst. Get through this moment, and then you'll do better.

When I had gotten home and I was alone with the kids...I have to say I was surprised by my emotional breakdown. I thought I would be stronger. I had, after all, done this before and I was not new to this process. I guess, the truth was, in that moment with my son...I panicked. It hit me like a wave...and I honestly felt lost.

It's easy for me to recount all of this to you now, because it's over. I can tell you with complete certainty, that I have remembered EVERY SINGLE time he and I have parted ways for these endeavors. I remember them with a clarity...that I can easily describe to you. I remember it from his first deployment all the way to this last one. I remember what I was wearing for each of them, what the weather was, the times of day...all of them. I can recount them to you vividly...as if they had happened a moment ago.

You might say that me remembering them that well is a little morbid. I honestly don't think they are. I remember them because they are beautiful gifts to me. In every single one of those moments, I wasn't a college student, or a fiance, or a wife, or a mother, or an ex girlfriend, or a daughter...I was just a girl saying goodbye to the love of her life, and a girl being said goodbye to. I have never questioned that my husband adores me. I know this with a certainty in my soul. He and I truly are one, not just in that sappy cheesy way...but in the kind of way that really only comes around once in a lifetime way. But on those days...in those moments...everything else faded away and it was just me and him.

Now, just as I can recall to you every single one of those goodbyes, I can also recount with the same clarity, the hellos too. Those moments are the sweetest moments, when his arms finally wrap around me, and my whole body justs...relaxes. It's sort of like...okay...we made it...I can let go now... I don't know if anyone can understand this situation other than fellow army wives. The army really does in a lot of ways leave you out to dry, and when your soldier comes home...that safety returns. Even though I have a strong faith in Christ...and I have tremendous peace about what my husband does...it's difficult to explain.

Okay...so I suppose trying to round out these random thoughts and get to the heart of why it is I'm writing this post would be helpful. :) Today, when the rear detachment soldier called me (and the rear detachment first sergeant jumped on the phone, which I'm only noting for the benefit of my husband who might read this one day :) )... the "official" end had come. My husband will most likely, never again step foot in Iraq. It's actually kind of emotional for me on a lot of levels...That place...it has affected my life more than you could ever know. It has done things to me, personally, more than I have time, or the emotional fortitude, to explain. So to have it be done. To be completely done with ever having to say, "he's in Iraq", or even the word "Iraq" ever again... I can't begin to tell you what that feels like. Even as I sit here now...tears are pouring out of my eyes. It is so emotional for me. That place nearly killed me, literally and emotionally, and to have this place in my life where it will not have us anymore...I just don't know how to describe it.

The last time my husband came home, I was excited. I was elated. I was restless. This time? I almost feel like I am mourning. It's not mourning for him to come home, about that I am completely elated (beyond words). It's mourning about this finally being finished. It's sort of the reality that this is done. Forever.

I suppose in a nutshell, the purpose of this post is that I can not wait to write to you tomorrow and tell you with the greatest joy in my heart that my friends...it is finished! :) Goodbye Iraq! Hello my beloved. :)

hm.

It is almost over. I am almost finished enduring a very large trial. But it's strange to be rounding the bend with the finish line in sight...and feeling the way that I do. My mom asked me if when my husband left Iraq, if I felt a sense of peace that he was finally "safe" and I had to honestly say, no. The reason I answered "no" was because I never had anxiety that his life was in danger in Iraq. I genuinely believed (and still do) that his life was and is in God's hands and regardless of his physical location...when it's his time to go, he will go.

I feel...peaceful. I feel eager. I am extremely excited, but I also am wondering how this next transition will go. Of course, I hope that all will go smoothly and everything will fall in to place quickly and simply...but I also know that there are beautiful lessons in challenging adjustments, and I am excited either way. I am excited if it goes smoothly, and I am excited if it doesn't.

I love my husband deeply. I admire him with an intensity and a passion I have not known myself to be capable of. He truly is my best friend. He is my warrior, my lover, my companion...my beautiful, beautiful gift. I am eager to sleep next to him in our bed, and to watch him play with our children. I am eager to delight in being his bride. I am eager to be once again with my beloved.

I guess what I have wanted to say, and what I believe is the most important is that my life does not end, nor begin again with his absence or his presence. I know that my husband loves me, deeply, passionately, whether he is home or whether he is far away. My value as a woman, a mother, his wife... is not dependent on his physical presence. I have seen time and time again, woman who practically cease to exist in the absence of their spouse. I have seen women who disintegrate emotionally while their husbands are gone. I have BEEN that woman. I have been the woman who lived or died daily on whether or not my husband called or wrote or whatevered... I spent countless nights worrying, fearing, fighting, crying, and falling to pieces... My God has promised me that my peace comes from Him and HIM alone. It does not come because my husband kisses me goodnight, or cuddles me in the morning, or thinks I'm beautiful, or compliments me enough. It does not stop coming because my husband is mean or rude or insensitive. God tells me that my value comes from HIM.

I love my husband. Deeply, freely, intensely. But I honestly believe that I am more free to love him the way he needs me to and wants me to, because my value comes from Christ.

goodbye TV, you were expensive for us

I am getting rid of cable. Before you have a heart attack in shock...let me explain myself. To be perfectly honest...we just don't really watch it. The television is RARELY on in my household. We are just too busy doing other things. So today, my husband and I had a discussion about it. This is sort of how it went.

me: Want to hear something crazy?

him: What?

me: The television hasn't been on in our house for over a month.

him: You know, I have been wanting to talk to you about this for a while. We rarely watch TV, so why are we paying for it.

me: I don't know.

him: We should get rid of it.

me: Okay.

So that's it...We are cutting the ties with cable television. I am surprised to find myself very reluctant to do so. I think there is a strange comfort in knowing that if I turn my TV on, there will be something there to instantly entertain me. Is my reluctance seriously only because of the possibility that ONE DAY I Might want to watch it? I know that my lack of eagerness is not going to prevent this change from happening. I will be going down to my cable office tomorrow and dropping off my cable box and all of the trappings that it came with. Still, I am surprised by my heart's sadness. I honestly am not sure what I think I'm going to be missing.... Is it commercials? The news? Movies? We almost entirely watch television programs on hulu.com now anyways. We don't really enjoy the idea of having to be in front of the TV at some certain time like it's an appointment.

Okay, this blog feels preachy. I think it's because I am trying to have a certainty in my thoughts. No more TV=save money. Yeah! That I like. Okay...I'm ready to go! Kids! Let's pack up that cable box and get driving! Oh wait...it's the night time. Okay! Tomorrow, it will happen! :)

Goodbye Gallbladder, HELLO ear infection!

I am coming out of my vicodin haze...The world is still a little bit foggy and I'm still quite sore but I hate the idea of being dependent on a drug to "get through the day". Please forgive me if I don't make a lot of sense. I am still choosing to blame everything on the vicodin. So if this is a horrible post, it's the vicodin's fault, if it's great, then it's all me baby! :)

I no longer have a gall bladder. I'm sure you're assuming, she had some gall stones. I will have to quickly announce that is not the case. My gallbladder did not have stones...it just decided it didn't quite feel like working any more. Maybe it figured that it had worked hard enough for 27 years, and it decided to pass on to heaven and settle there. I can't quite be sure. However, when the doctor went in to remove it last Thursday, it had started to turn black, which I am told is a very not good sign...

I have not had a funeral for my gallbladder. You might be asking yourself why I did not choose to bury it, since it has officially passed away. I think this would be a bit overkill. I had no ceremony kissing it goodbye. Sure, it was good to me for many years, however I am quite angry with it for causing me such emotional and physical turmoil. I guess you can safely say, that when we parted ways, we were not on good terms. I know, I know. You are deeply concerned that one day, five years from now, I am going to wake up and have a deep longing for my gallbladder and I will regret not formally saying my goodbyes. I guess I'm just going to have to take that chance. In my honest opinion it was an inconsiderate jerk for dropping dead on me, and I quite think it deserved to be permanently kicked out of this establishment I call my body. Yes, I believe in tough love. :)

Next on my list of complaints would be the big giant chocolate labrador that is my heart's love. I have always been an animal person, and my big brown teddy bear is my heart's mate. It was love at first sight when we met three years ago at the pound. We brought him home, and he has been glued to me ever since. We instantly bonded through the metal bars that were the pounds prison fences, and he is quite grateful to me for saving him from that horrible place. I do like to remind him, though, when he upsets me, that at any given moment I can send him back to prison. He accepts that I'm just talking nonsense, and I accept that he listens ever so gently, and gives me his sad puppy dog eyes that say, "NO! I love you! I'm sorry..." (I know you're seriously beginning to think, uh...yeah...it's REALLY time for you to get off the vicodin now. And to YOU, I say...you know you do this stuff with your pets too. Don't judge me.)

So anyway, back to topic. My lab is allergic to wheat. Deathly so. We discovered this after a year of back to back ear infections. So for this, my husband and I spend enormous amounts of money on gluten free dog food that is specially made and grown so that his allergies can tolerate it. And you know what this ungrateful dog decided to do tonight!? He ATE the Spaniel's non gazillion dollar dog food, that is FILLED with wheat! So now what do I get to enjoy? I get to enjoy a whiny, complaining, and extremely itchy labrador! He is sitting here sulking at me, because I'm not scratching his itches for him. I already gave him a sound talking to. He knows quite well that he's not allowed to eat wheat. And don't doubt me that he actually knows. He does not eat the food the children drop on the floor. He never eats anything with wheat. So you can say what you want, but he knows he's not supposed to eat wheat! He's a genius dog! I suppose today he decided to tempt fate and splurge. I can not quite be certain. Maybe he was feeling ignored so he decided to create an ear infection so that he'll get pampered. Maybe he hasn't had one in so long that he started missing the vet and figured this would be the only way to get over there to see her. Maybe after seeing me pop so many pills in order to say semi functioning the past four days, he felt we needed to bond on a medical front. All I know is that my chocolate tub of love is curled up on my bed, giving me the pouting sad face that says, "I hurt!". :( What am I going to do with this poor baby?