The Deployment Puzzle

Hello Readers!

We are on Day 20, now, of our Deployment and things are... well... normal.

The first couple of weeks were sort of in the gray of things; not really the emotional mess everyone thought it would be for us. Numb, mostly. Not to say we didn't have our moments. There were several nights where Chuug cried for Daddy at bedtime until I climbed in with him. There were days where I forgot that Habibi was gone, only to suffer the horrible letdown once I realized or remembered that he wasn't coming home from work that day, or that the reason the car is in the driveway is because he left it there, not because he'd just pulled up or come in from a long day. But things just moved along- the world doesn't stop, you know. After a while you come to realize it and just keep on swimming (just keep swimming, just keep swimming...), and that's what we're doing.

I was pretty surprised that there wasn't much of a backlash. You know- where your husband leaves and suddenly everything that can go wrong does, pushing you into a complete meltdown in the first week? Yeah. That didn't happen. Instead, everything just kind of fell into place- as though someone is over your shoulder telling you which puzzle pieces go where, but it's still up to you to put them in their rightful spots. So here I am, putting the pieces where they need to go. It's kind of funny; I never would have thought of Deployment as a big puzzle to put together, but it makes sense to look at it that way, now. Sometimes you lose a piece or two and have to spend time looking, sometimes you put pieces in the wrong places and don't realize it til later... and sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can't find where the damned thing goes! But eventually you get it.

Our most recent piece in our Deployment Life puzzle: School! There were a few hoops to jump through (got to love the El Paso Independent School District) but, after looking around and finding the right pieces, everything came together just in time to get the kiddo registered and ready. Come Monday, I'll be walking Chuug to his first day of Kindergarten, armed with new clothes and a backpack full of supplies. He's excited and I'm a nervous wreck! What am I going to do while he's away at school all day? I know some of you are reading and thinking "Um, how about a bottle of wine? Dance around the house naked! Watch all of YOUR shows on TV for a change! Take a bath WITHOUT a tub full of toys!" HA!

I remember Chuug's first day of Pre-School, before we pulled him out, moved to Fort Bliss and homeschooled him. After we followed the bus, met him at his school and walked him to class, my Father in Law took me for beignets at Cafe du Monde and then dropped me off at home. I walked into my apartment, sat on the couch... and stared at the wall. Unlike most parents in today's world, I refused to send the kiddo to daycare. He stayed home with me every single day since he was born, with the exception of sleepovers with Grammie and PawPaw, during which I still had Habibi around for entertainment. I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself on that first day, being truly alone. After an hour or so of sitting in my silent apartment, I went for a walk (which turned into almost eight full miles) and didn't return home until it was time to meet the bus.

Reading that, I'm sure you can see where the idea of the kiddo starting Kindergarten while the hubby is deployed can be a terrifying concept.

CUE THE GAME PLAN!

Not only is it good for Deployments, but it's good for Moms of first-time school-aged kids, too! I'm so glad I came up with one.

I've already started working on the crafty parts of my list- such as creating our family Scrapbook; I've been sketching out page designs and picking out photos to use. I'm a planner, so I have to plan my pages out before I make them, unlike some of those amazing gals who get handed a bunch of supplies and they just throw it all together in one sitting. I wish! 
Also on the crafty end, I haven't been able to get back to painting yet (kind of been waiting on the kiddo to start school for that one), however, I have found another crafting outlet that I absolutely love! Right before he left, Habibi dumped a massive pile of old, dirty ACUs in the house. I thought Greeeeeat. More crap to store... But after he left I started eyeballing those uniforms, wondering what I could possibly do with them. What I came up with was a gorgeous wreath for our front door. I'm in love with it, and I was in love with making it. (Honestly, any repetitive, productive motions keep me happy.) So now I'm wanting to make MORE! Hey, a little extra money never hurt, right? Just sayin'! If you want a wreath, you know who to call!

Next part of the Game Plan to kick in? Getting Fit. I love working out. Really, honestly, truly, I do. Having an endorphin high is the best thing in the world, and weight loss is always a plus! But, admittedly, my biggest problem with exercise is actually getting myself up to do it. Not a problem now! Since our home is nearby Chuug's new school, this means I have to wake up, drag my chunky ass out of bed, get dressed and walk the kiddo there every single morning (AND walk back every afternoon!) Once I'm up and going, I am up and going. So I'm just going to drop Chuug off at school every morning... and just keep on going! Turns out our neighbourhood is about 5 miles, collectively, if you walk up and down all the streets. My daily minimum is 3 miles per day, which still adds up to 15 miles per week. I'm READY! ...I think.

So many puzzle pieces! A year doesn't seem long enough!

Deployment Photography... with a little Pin-Up on the side!

If there's one thing I've always wanted to do, since the day I met my husband, it was get professional photos taken; I dreamed of Habibi and I running through the French Quarter- a photographer in tow taking candids... Then, when Chuug came along, I envisioned pictures of our little family in City Park, walking across the bridges and sitting on the old oaks. I thought about collage frames and Christmas cards and everything that came along with those gorgeous family photography sessions our friends were always sending out in the mail or posting on websites. Unfortunately, there never seemed to be a good time- whether it was a busy schedule, tight funds or grueling New Orleans weather conditions.

One thing that seems to be a common belief with military families is this: With a lifestyle that tends to deploy half of our homes across the world for extended periods of time, pictures are a must. Nobody seems to know this better, with the recent deployment of almost our entire post, than the Army Wives of Fort Bliss.

A few months ago, when Deployment was looming, I began to see albums upon albums of family photography sessions in my feed, ranging from absolutely fabulous to PWC (person with camera). Either way, it dawned on me that Habibi would be gone in a few months... and in our seven years together we had never taken professional family photos. I admit, I actually felt a small sense of panic. There are many things many wives don't want to think about when it comes to Deployment, but I will come right out and say that my thought was this: What if something happens? We don't have any beautiful family photos to look back on aside from the random quick "HEY! LOOK AT ME! -click-" camera shot at some family function or the occasional grainy cell phone picture that was immediately uploaded to Facebook.

I immediately began to search.

Now, a major plus to being a military family, stationed at a rather large installation with other military families, is that photographers tend to come up with pretty great offers, deals and discounts. Free photo books, military discounts and credits, payment plans... The biggest is when they offer a Deployment Package. Certainly catches the eye, doesn't it? Hey! We're military! He's about to deploy! That package is perfect!

It's important, however, to not be completely blinded by a good deal. Unfortunately, this is what we learned with our first photography experience here in El Paso. Fair warning; a studio, website, and a Deployment Deal and Military Discount Plan does not always equal up to a professional photographer. Instead, we found that sometimes all you need is someone in your shoes with passion and a camera. That's what we found in Nina.

Nina Roxanne; fellow Army Wife and owner of Nina Roxanne Photography, is absolutely amazing. When our first photography session wound up being a complete dud, she e-mailed me offering her services for a fee, perfectly affordable for our little Army paycheck, to cover our session and a CD with our photos. I was wary- already once burned- but determined to have the perfect family photo shoot.

Right from the beginning of our session Nina was laid back, friendly and fun. Whatever stress, worry and discomfort I felt about doing a second and, in my mind, potentially disastrous photo shoot immediately dissipated when we said our "Hello"s. We loved that she was open to try whatever we wanted along with her own ideas, which were creative and original. While she gave us direction on what kind of shot she wanted to take, she wasn't posey- simply allowing us to be what felt like in our own little bubble, taking candids quietly from the outside, observing our little family instead of moving us around like Barbie and Ken dolls. At times it truly felt like she wasn't even there!

But oh, she was definitely there! Within hours after our shoot we were surprised to see absolutely and unbelievably gorgeous preview photos waiting for us on our newsfeed! We immediately fell in love. In just four previews Nina was able to give the world a peek inside the life of our little family- from special kisses to funny faces.

Not only do I plan to call Nina for another family shoot when Habibi comes home... but I'm also thinking about using her services to help me achieve one of my Deployment Game Plan Goals; GET FIT! If I lose the weight/inches I hope to with this deployment by working hard, I plan to give myself a little Pin-Up Pick-Me-Up! Not sure what I'm talking about? Check out Nina's photography page again- and sneak a little peek at her Pin-Up Photography! For my fellow babes at Bliss who are looking to get a little (or a lot) fit during this deployment, just a suggestion, but I'd add Nina Roxanne Photography to your Deployment Goal List. Just sayin'. 

Look at my little bebe carrying his Daddy Bear! =)

Not to mention Nina offers a fabulous 40% Military Discount to all Reserve, Retired and, of course, Active Duty Military!

And if the Pin-Up thing isn't your style, there are still a million amazing possibilities to be had with Nina and her eye for special moments. The proof is on your screen!

Day Three: Everything's Fine.

Day Three and everything's fine.

Well, not entirely, but that's what seems to appease everyone. It's also the only thing I can really seem to say every time people ask me "am I okay?", "how am I feeling?" or "how am I holding up?". Don't you just love those questions? Sure, they're well meaning, I guess. Some of the time, anyway. Honestly, most of the time I think nobody really wants to know how I'm feeling, they just aren't sure what to say other than to ask the obvious. That's okay. I don't really want to answer. But I do.

Isn't it funny? People ask because they don't know what else to do and we answer with "I'm fine" because we don't know how else to respond. Maybe we should get rid of the whole practice altogether. But until then, "I'm fine. We're fine. Everything's fine."

So Day One was numb, Day Two was emotional, and Day Three turned out to be okay, actually.

It didn't start out too great, though I think it was just the remains of Day Two. Kind of like when you grab a water hose after it's been shut off all night and some water still comes trickling out. I woke up feeling horribly sad and overwhelmed and, before I could even sit upright, burst into tears. I wanted my husband. Plain and simple. After a few minutes I pulled myself up out of bed and moved into the bathtub, so I wouldn't disturb my still-sleeping bebe. I cried a while longer, washed my hair, soaped up, got dressed... and began the day. Because, unfortunately, the rest of the world really doesn't care. The sun isn't going to stop rising, bills aren't going to extend themselves and people aren't going to stay home from work just for me. Not saying I don't wish they would. God, I wish they would. Just for one day. But the reality is I've got bills to pay, a little boy (and cat) to feed and things that need my signature so that our lives can go on as smoothly as possible without Habibi. Staying in bed to cry all day just isn't practical.

Once we got out and going, we got quite a few things things taken care of and/or started- though can I just say that it really sucks to have to handle things acting as my husband under a power of attorney because they couldn't get done before he left? Grumble, grumble. However, it seems people are more understanding and helpful when you're the wife left behind. What seemed to need an entire act of congress while Habibi was here now just takes a simple phone call because he's gone. Thank jeebus for that, at least. Anyway, we got things handled, which took a lot of stress from Day Two off of my shoulders. By the way, we're not even going to touch Day Two. In case you were wondering. I chose not to blog about it because it was filled with things like driving up to the house, seeing our car in the driveway and instinctively smiling, thinking Habibi had come home from work before realizing I was wrong. And that wasn't even the worst part of the day.

The best part of the day was when I glanced at my computer screen to see Habibi's name blinking at the bottom. Good old internet! I admit that even though I knew the first week or so would probably be quiet, I couldn't help but feel jealous and hurt when reading about other gals, who's husbands had left the same day as Habibi, already getting phone calls. I reminded myself how it was with NTC- while other gals were getting a phone call every day or at least a couple of times a week, I had received nothing. Later I found out Habibi had been kept so busy, he never even read more than one of the letters I'd sent him that entire month, much less had any time to call! So I told myself maybe the situation was the same. Maybe they were so busy preparing for what they needed to do that there wasn't any time.

I was right! The boys have been kept super, super busy since arriving at their camp. Still, Habibi managed to get a few minutes of free time to log onto a computer, and I was lucky enough to have been online! Even though we only had a few minutes to chat with each other, my heart completely burst with happiness and relief. Those few simple sentences in a matter of minutes will last me days of comfort, I'm sure. I can't wait to finally have letters in my hands! Could you imagine how long I could last on those? Unfortunately, I have to wait just a little while longer before we can send or receive anything- not until the boys are settled and where they need to be. That's fine. I'll write letters anyway. He'll just get a HUGE stack the first day. =)

In the meantime, we (Chuug and I) have begun working on a couple of small projects; a Deployment 365 album, which consists of one special photo to count down every single day Habibi is away, and then a 365 spinoff called "The Adventures of Daddy Bear", which consists of one picture of Chuugie's Daddy Bear doing something different every day to count down the days. I'm hoping to turn both of them into photo books by the end of the deployment, just to have something sweet to look back on.

The Adventures of Daddy Bear; Days 1, 2 and 3

On top of my little photo projects, I also dragged my scrapbooking drawer out of storage and started drawing out little page designs. If I stick with it, finally putting together our family scrapbook will likely take up the majority of this deployment all on it's own- seeing as I have seven years to put together, PLUS creating pages for this next year, too! Sounds exhausting already! But anything that keeps me distracted is worth working on, no matter how long it takes. Hell... I even considered buying one of those huge puzzles to try and put together. Maybe a Van Gogh print puzzle. Do they have his sunflower painting as a big puzzle? That's something worth looking into. I love sunflowers. In a big bad way.

Anyway, now I'm rambling...

But I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm fine. We're fine. Everything's fine.

Deployment 365; Day 2

Deployment 365; Day 3

Day One.

Yesterday I watched the larger part of the last seven years of my life drive away in an Army bus, leaning over the back of his seat and waving at us out the window behind him. Mothers and wives were standing around me crying... some sniffling, some sobbing, quite a few outright wailing. And what did I do? I pulled my ponytail out of my hair. Because I realized his looking out the window behind him would be the last time he saw us, physically, in real life, just ten feet away... and I wanted him to remember me with my hair down, the way he loves it.

Walking back to the car I readjusted my shirt and then realized I could have worn something better- like my new dress he bought me- than my black wide-leg lounge pants, which I wear to sleep in fifty percent of the time, and a tee shirt. My mind hadn't been straight that morning- comfort was more important than looking pretty. I'm sure Habibi understood that, though. He knows me.

Chuug sitting on Habibi's ruck.

On the ride home I began to analyze the last 24 hours we'd spent together- wondering if we should have done more or done something else to make our final day more special. Looking back on it, really, it was just another ordinary day with each other. I suppose that's just fine, though. To make it more special would just be more heartbreaking for us than to just exist in our life with each other as we always have. Sleeping in, eating breakfast-for-lunch at IHOP, going to the movies to see Captain America and then having dinner just Habibi and I? Just another Saturday... That's fine. Normal and familiar. We tried staying up as late as we could together, just to have more time.

A few short hours after finally falling asleep, we woke in the dark, dressed and played with Chuug so he'd wake in a sweet mood to go to work with Daddy, despite the early hour. We spent the entire day with Habibi while he cleaned out his locker, packed and dropped off his bags for inspection and did formation; mostly hanging out in the locker room, sprawled out on the floor, playing video games with Chuug on his iPod. One nice surprise was when Chuug and I were called up during final manifest to put Habibi's new SPC rank on his uniform, finally. The kiddo slapped his rank on his chest and I put on his new hat. It was that great little something extra.

When Family Time finally came for us, we didn't talk at all. I sat between Habibi's legs, leaning against his lap and chest while he talked to family members on his cell phone. I think it helped to keep me from crying the most- not having to talk about anything.

Playing games together on the iPod.

I heard them announce something over the intercom, but couldn't make out what was said. I was too busy being off in my own mind, so I missed it. Then I noticed women coupling off with their soldiers, standing in frozen hugs in the middle of the floor. I realized what was happening. How fast our hour flew by... He hung up the phone and held onto us tight, kissing our cheeks and foreheads and whispering in our ears. My eyes didn't swell over until he leaned into me for our last kisses, and my face was wet within moments. I remember thinking how jealous I was of him- how he had no tears in his eyes and his voice didn't break when he spoke to us. I remember wondering if he'd cry after he left. When he finally stood and began walking away from us he looked back, turned right around and came back for more, this time with eyes welling and his voice shaking. I smiled at him and smiled at Chuug so he wouldn't be upset or scared.

We watched the boys go into formation and then march out of the gym to the buses. At first we walked the opposite way, back to the car. But then our friend, Matt, asked "Do you want to watch the buses leave?" I stopped walking and stared at Chuug, waiting for his response. Remembering how loaded the question was from his own deployment, Matt said "I understand if you don't. It's really hard." I really didn't. Really, really didn't want to. But I knew the kiddo would. We turned around and walked back toward the long line of white and blue buses.

We couldn't see him, so we slowly began walking up the line. Then Habibi called from his cell phone and said "I'm in the third bus, in the second window... I see you guys." My heart wanted to explode. He was looking for us. We walked up to the front and there he was, waving out of the window. I could only see him for a moment before my vision blurred. When the buses started up, that's when I realized it was truly the moment. The woman to my left sobbed out loud and girls behind me began sniffling and holding onto each other. I pulled my ponytail out of my hair, so the last time he looked at me he'd see me with my hair down, the way he likes it. As the buses pulled off he leaned over the back of his seat and waved at us out of the window behind him.

When the buses were almost out of sight, I pulled out my phone and sent him an "I love you" text. I think had I yelled it out loud no one could have heard me over everyone else. Once they were gone I turned around to see the crowd of people bawling behind me, holding onto each other and talking to their little ones. I grabbed Chuug's hand and we walked through the crowd of crying women to the car.

When we got back to the house, I made a beeline for the bathroom, locked the door, sat on the toilet and silently bawled to myself. Then I wiped my face, fixed my hair and walked out into the livingroom with our friends. When I sat down on the couch, I immediately felt one giant wave of exhaustion wash over me. Within minutes my phone was ringing with calls and texts, and I felt even more exhausted.

I have a firm belief that when one goes through some sort of traumatic or sad situation such as this, there should be a 48 hour waiting period- just as police issue a 48 hour waiting period before filing for missing persons. If you don't hear from me after 48 hours, then bombard me with calls, texts, e-mails and IMs. But in those hours, the first few especially, I'd just like to be alone with my thoughts, taking time to adjust. I know the messages and calls are well-meaning, but to some- to me- it's like salt in a fresh wound. I don't like crying with people around... I don't want to emotionally explode over the phone, either. I just keep thinking (and even saying out loud every time the phone rings) GO AWAAAY! PLEASE JUST LET ME FREAK OUT FOR A WHILE! 

A few hours after we'd returned home, Habibi called from the airport. The flights had been delayed. So we talked- we talked about how Chuug handled everything, talked about the whole day we'd just had. My heart strings tugged so hard when he told me he kept telling himself I wouldn't have wanted to watch the buses leave, but he still looked for us anyway. I told him how much I loved him.

The rest of the day disappeared quickly. Not necessarily a good thing. My most dreaded fear with this deployment was the first night alone. The first night realizing that he didn't walk through the door after work, he didn't throw his dirty uniform on the bed and he isn't here fighting over the good pillow with me. When the time came to climb into bed, Chuug cried for Daddy, as I knew he would and also dreaded. I crawled in beside him to hold him and, after an hour or so, he fell asleep. I, however, was not so lucky. I laid there, staring into the dark, listening to the silence. After a while, the silence itself began to sound like this long, loud, droning noise. I climbed out of bed to dig out the new, unopened bottle of Melatonin Habibi had bought me before he left (I admit, I doubled the maximum dosage) and within minutes I was finally gone.

An hour later I was startled from my sleep by Habibi's ringtone...

"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, tomorrow I'll miss you, 
and remember I'll always be true...

And then while I'm away, I'll write home every day... 
and I'll send all my loving to you."

He was calling! Calling to tell me they'd made it safely to Checkpoint A and were about to depart for Checkpoint B. I cannot hardly remember any of the conversation now (eff you, Melatonin), but I do remember beginning to cry when he said "This is it. This is the last time I'll be calling you from my phone." I realized that he was right. I wouldn't be hearing his song for a very, very long time.

I don't remember the conversation ending. I don't remember telling him goodbye, or if I even did. I almost thought maybe I'd fallen asleep on the phone, but it was back on the bedside table when I woke which led me to believe I had to have consciously said goodbye or goodnight. I wish I remembered it.

I woke feeling happy this morning that he'd called in the middle of the night, but within my first hour of waking I moved into numbness. And here I've been all day, migrating back and forth between my bed and the couch; trying to keep snuggled and warm, attempting to comfort myself in the most simplest of ways I can find.

This is Day One.

Deployment 365: Day 1
You can tell how the first day went...

Distractions are Good for the Soul... and the Sinuses!

Once Habibi leaves, I'm sure I'm going to cry.

I'm not one to cry in public places or in front of other people. Hell, I try my hardest not to cry in front of Habibi or Chuug- unless they hound me down. But I may cry as soon as we return home after our final goodbyes. I'll definitely cry once it gets dark and the realization that he hasn't come home from work sinks in. I may wake up a few times during the first night to cry, too. And the next night. Maybe even the night after that. And that's okay! Crying is a completely natural response to pain- emotional and physical. But when your sinuses are swollen (as mine always do), your face is sore, your eyes are raw and dry and you've made yourself into as hot a mess as you can get... Then what do you do?

This is where The Game Plan comes in.

If you read my blog, you've seen my entry about how I went crazy while Habibi was away at NTC for a month. Why? Because I had no Game Plan; no list of to-dos, to-trys and/or goals. I came to realize that THIS IS VITAL! EVERY GAL NEEDS A GAME PLAN! Like a mini bucket-list for Deployment. =)

Admittedly, I haven't worked as much on my Game Plan as I wanted. Sure, I've thought about it tons in my head, but I'm also one of those must-write-it-down kind of gals. STILL! I have come up with some plans... a few I've even grabbed from my own bucket list. (Yep. I have a bucket list. Also good for the soul.) Now, I'm not going to list EVERYTHING here- mostly because I can't remember it all off the top of my head (THIS IS WHY YOU WRITE THINGS DOWN!) but also because some of my goals are a little on the private side. -wink- You can wrack your brain on that one!

So here are some of the BIG goals...

GET IN SHAPE. So cliche, I know. But who doesn't want to get into shape? I've learned in the past that when Habibi isn't around, I'm more focused and driven. Yep, my husband is a lazy-drug. When he's around we just want to lay and snuggle all day and- while good for the heart and the marriage- it's bad for the body. Deployment is my prescription of Adderall. My goal here is to either lose 50lbs in the year that he's gone OR get back down to my original size 10 (I'm a 16 now- down from a 22). I say either-or only because women in my family are solid and we tend to lose inches better than pounds. Totally cool, though, because your measurements actually give you a more accurate account of your fitness than your weight does, since muscle weighs more than fat. But I digress... I'd like to have a group of gals to go to the gym and work out with, because I've found working out is easier to do when you have others there to distract you. But if I have to, I'll go it alone. All I know is I've bought myself a piece of "Skinny Clothing" and by the end of this Deployment, that sucker had better fit!

BECOME A DOMESTIC GODDESS. I do not have mad skillz in the kitchen. It makes me sad. It also makes Habibi sad because he comes from a family of crazy Cajun cookers! So my second goal is to gain some good kitchen witchery. I've got your basic Pita Pizza, Macky-Cheese and Paskettis down, but that is the unfortunate extent of my culinary abilities. I'd like to learn a variety of foods- starting with our own home recipes (because oh MAN you have no idea how much we missed gumbo for our first El Paso winter!) and branching outward into vegan/allergy-friendly recipes for myself. A mini-goal inside of this goal is to learn to cook with more meat, because while I may not eat a majority of critters outside of the seafood spectrum (though I cannot deny a good turkey sammich) Habibi and Chuug are blood-thirsty carnivores. So expect my blog to get a little Julie & Julia over the next year.

PAAAINT! No surprise there. It's been almost 10 months since I've painted (and even sold) a painting. Between living out in the middle of nowhere on the far west side of El Paso and juggling our funds, I've been suffering without my biggest outlet. I SHALL SUFFER NO MORE! Aside from painting any requests, I've got a couple of pictures I'd taken that I've been wanting to paint for months, now. You have no idea how badly I'm going to want to go running out to the nearest craft store and stock up the second Habibi's plane takes off.

GET SOME INNER PEACE. Meditating was a favorite of mine up until Chuug turned a year old... and then inner peace was something I could only achieve in my dreams. Four years later this kid is hopefully heading off to Kindergarten and I'll have a few hours of SILENCE! Much like exercise, if you can get 30 minutes a day, 3-4 days a week of zen- IT DOES YOU GOOD!

MAKE A TEMPORARILY PERMANENT HOME. Haha. Yeah, that does sound funny. But if you're a military wife, then you know what I mean! Our life is a never-ending cycle of impermanence... but I'm tired of living in a home like we're going to move out the next month. We never completely unpack, never hang anything on the walls and I always leave my pictures and books and candles and little knick knacks in their boxes. A majority of the things we own are also really old and broken, too. We've always taken hand-me-downs and shopped at Goodwill because we believed in function over fashion. But GEEZE... It's gotten to the point where I just want to have plates that match and buy a couch to own from the BEGINNING of it's lifespan and not halfway or three quarters through! I'd like to be able to sit in a chair and look around my livingroom at all of the beautiful photographs I've taken or my paintings hanging on the walls or sitting on shelves... I'd like for my son to have a totally themed out bedroom (I know, I know, cliche- but when you've never had it?) that he's proud of and wants to live in to the point I have to drag him out of it. I'd like to actually pull out that old rubbermaid container and decorate for the holidays and have people over... I've begun to wonder if the reason I never get attached to (or want to even live in) my homes is because they don't feel like they're mine. So I'd like to do that. Even if we're not going to live here forever, at least make it look like it.

GET LEGIT! Along with painting, I've been missing attending births like crazy. Back home in NOLA, I started on my certification, only to find that being certified wasn't an issue as long as you had the experience and did the doula do! If you were a good doula, then you were a good doula. Word of mouth was all that mattered. Unfortunately I've found that out here in El Paso- even though certification is a personal choice and not a requirement- it seems to matter a whole lot more to people. I wish all I had to do was take a test. Give me an exam for my certification- I'd test right through! But instead I have to work my way through the long process just to get a piece of paper that says "Yep, this gal knows her shit." -Sigh- On the plus side, along with finally getting my certification, I'm going to go ahead and also go for my Childbirth Educator's Dip so that I can teach Alternative Birth classes out here for the gals who want it. As irritating as the whole certification thing is... it'll look good on my Midwifery school application. That's a big plus.

KEEP IT GREEN! Saving money is always a priority with deployment. My goal here is to have AT LEAST $10k in savings by the time Habibi comes home. Simple, but VERY important!

Those are some of the major goals off the top of my head that I wanted to share. I've got some smaller ones, too; simple things like learning to play an instrument, knit a blanket for the kiddo's bed for winter, finally start a series of scrapbooks I've been putting off for the last six years... Things that I'd like to do, but won't kick myself over if they don't get done (Well... the scrapbooking goal is more like a medium-sized goal. I probably WILL kick myself if I don't get that started...)

The biggest positive I've found with making my goal list is that when I read over it all... it seems like SO MUCH to do in just one year. It's amazing how our perception of time changes when you throw things into the mix. When I think about an entire year without my husband, it seems like forever and I just want to cry (cue the sinuses clogging)! But then I think about all the goals I have that I want to accomplish... and now it seems like it's not long enough!

...and then I exploded.

I used to love Sundays when I was younger; waking up to the sunshine beaming through the windows- making warm strips of light across the carpet where we'd stretch out to play or draw, listening to the radio or a collection of my Momma's cassette tapes... usually followed by a wonderfully pointless but perfect afternoon nap. Those Sundays were best described by the Italian guys in Eat. Pray. Love. as Dolce Far Niente- or "The sweetness of doing nothing".

Sorry, I couldn't help but add the clip- I love that book/movie. =) But they're right, aren't they? The perfect Sunday involves Dolce Far Niente. That Sunday is today. 

We spent the morning sleeping in, snuggled together in our bed... and then the afternoon... and still now. Why? Why haven't we gotten up and done something yet? It's a beautiful Sunday (as evident by the warm sunlight beaming in through the windows)!

Because this Sunday is the last Sunday we'll get to spend together as our little family for a while, I realized when Habibi curled up and threw his arm over me to pull me in close for a snuggle.

...and then I exploded. 

Oh my god. This is really the last Sunday I'm going to spend with my husband for a long time...

Hello, emotional breakdown, I was wondering when you'd get here. 

So here we lay, in each other's arms, the moments dragging... Sure, we could be out and about, doing something memorable and fun together for this last, and very special, Sunday... but it seems when you get out and do, the faster time flies by. We'd rather just be here... enjoying the sweetness of doing nothing together.

Pre-Deployment Leave and When He Leaves for Deployment

Hello, Hellooooo! I'm aliiiiive! Nothing like pre-deployment leave to knock my blogging out of whack, huh? But I'm back, I'm back! At least it wasn't as long of a lull as the last one.

Habibi, the Kiddo and I at City Park

So we went back home to New Orleans for pre-deployment leave to see our friends and family, visit old familiar places and eat long-missed foods you couldn't find in El Paso if you tried... 


We had family parties with aunts and uncles and cousins and siblings, group outings to the French Quarter, the Riverwalk, the Aquarium and an ENTIRE DAY at Blue Bayou Waterpark, complete with second degree sunburn (I looked like a Gremlin thrown into sunlight- awful burns and blisters)! We were also blessed with a couple of thunder storms and some rain! (I had to laugh because my Momma's wish- that our visit would end the drought conditions in NOLA- came true after all!)

Habibi with a crawdad!

Admittedly, there were still some lulls during leave where I was frustrated and just wanted to hurry up and be back in EP. Yes, really. A couple of times we found ourselves camped out on my Momma's couch with nothing to do and nobody to see because, well... There seems to be this unwritten rule somewhere that says when your friends fly 1,150 miles home to visit- you have to be unavailable and then write them a Facebook message about how hurt you are that they made no effort to see you when they flew in. Because, you know, 1,150 miles wasn't far enough. It turns out, we're not the only family to deal with this during leave. It's a pretty common problem, particularly among military families. Friends (and family, even!), if you KNOW your friends are coming in to visit and you want to see them- MAKE TIME! It won't kill you to take ONE DAY off of work to spend with them, considering you probably won't see them again for a year or more. Ugh. 

Habibi and the Kiddo, taking a swim!

Still, all in all, it was a pleasant visit and by the very end the three of us were ready to be back home in El Paso and back to our normal routine.


BY THE WAY, I would like to mention that Habibi totally teased me because TSA grabbed me out of line both TO and FROM New Orleans and put me in the box for additional screening. To say the X-Ray machine freaked me out was an understatement. I was ready to scream. Habibi said I follow the terrorist description. At first, I was offended... Until he said "You've got such gorgeous curves, you must be packin'!" HA! Still, it was either coincidence or I really set off some kind of crazy flag. It's like they can tell which people will have a meltdown if you put them in the box. Mental note for future flights: Try not to look like a psycho.

Relaxing on a swing at City Park

After our flight was delayed TWICE and the entire concourse got held up because some crazy person literally RAN through the security checkpoint and was being hunted down- at which point nobody was allowed to move (try THAT with a five year old) or go to their terminals while they shut down the exits- we were compensated with free food at the terminal and free liquor on the flight (Can you guess who had three mini-bottles of wine?) and we made it home just in time for Habibi to check in. Phew! We went home and collapsed in our clothes- best night's sleep EVER. I don't know what it is about flights, but they make me EXHAUSTED because, you know, all of that SITTING we do.

Habibi and the Kiddo being silly!

Habibi ended up having to go right back to work the next morning- but he came home with a surprise. A piece of paper with lots of jumble Army jargon on it. Orders. I wasn't sure how to react. I read through them, put them down, picked them up, read through them again... and again... and again. I'd expected myself to have some sort of snap or something... cry or whatever. But it just didn't feel real. That's a big deal with me; nothing is ever real until it happens. I suppose it's my inner cynic to keep me from freaking out. So after a while I handed him his papers back and just... continued on as usual.


Over the next week, I started to see posts from my friends in our group; sad, upset, terrified, heartbroken posts about their husbands receiving their orders and how everything was "becoming real for them." I started to wonder... Why didn't it hit ME like that? Is it going to just sneak up on me and explode a-la Dane Cook's Mental Terrorist? Or am I just not going to crack until the day my husband is really gone? Will it be when we're alone in the car, on our way home from our Battalion Ball? Will it be on post, when we're making arrangements and signing forms for Living Wills and Power of Attorney? Maybe I won't break down until 5 o' clock passes and he doesn't walk through the door that first night. I don't know. I tried to force myself to get upset, discussing the deployment with Habibi so that maybe the floodgates will just open wide and everything will come out. But even that doesn't seem to work for me. I guess I'll just have to wait and see when the other shoe drops.

Rain, rain...

After almost 120 days (118, to be exact)... rain is finally falling in El Paso. It's our first rain since moving here last October. I find this moment pretty funny (in an ironic sense) because it's raining in the desert... while back home in New Orleans our families have been suffering drought conditions. (Well, probably not drought conditions by Texas standards, but drought conditions for New Orleaneans is just going any longer than a couple of weeks without rain. In this case, it hasn't rained in a month.) I hope it rains at least once while we're home visiting. Even a desert rainfall doesn't compare to a Louisiana downpour.

Should I stay or should I go?

So the big topic that's popping up a lot right now- and even came up in our own discussions between Habibi and I- is whether or not to move home during deployment.

I've seen a lot of judgement surrounding women who choose to move home while their husbands are deployed, and was even judged myself (rather unfairly) by other wives when I mentioned that Habibi confided in me about wanting the Kiddo and I to move back home.

I was immediately told how "tired everyone was of wives running home to Mommy and Daddy because they can't hack it without their husbands." Offensive much?

Firstly, in my case, the subject was brought up by my husband. Why? Because he wasn't comfortable with the idea of Chuug and I being here all alone in an unfamiliar place without knowing anybody. I felt, being in a marriage after all, it was only logical to consider my husband's feelings and reason.

Secondly, even if I was the one who decided to move back home during the deployment, they have no idea what the reasoning is. Assume and judge all you want. Maybe we're in a load of debt and I want to save my husband's deployment money along with his regular check to pay off the bills and start fresh when he gets back. Maybe we never got to have a wedding and I want to move home to pay for one and the honeymoon we never got to have. Maybe my family is going through a rough time and I decided to move back there to care for them while my husband's away to gain peace of mind. Maybe I want to start school and have been working out a whole plan with my family to help support me through it. Hell... even if it was true and my whole reason for moving home really was because I felt like I couldn't hack it alone with a five year old here in El Paso for 12-15 months- what does it matter to you? At least I would be admitting to myself and recognizing that I actually may not be strong enough to handle being alone (especially through a first deployment!) Would you rather me crack a month into it and overdose on anxiety and/or sleep meds while the Kiddo is at school because I can't handle it? You'd probably sit there and say "Tsk tsk. She should have gone home so her family could support her." Exactly! Too many scenarios, too many possibilities. And still, if a gal wants to go home just because she wants to go home- OH-freaking-WELL! She's not judging you for staying. Don't judge her for going.

One thing I've grasped pretty quickly is that every Army Wife is not the same. The title doesn't make you a super hero. You're still a person with your own wants, needs, beliefs, lifestyles and circumstances... and it breaks my heart to hear so many say things like "suck it up and put on your big girl panties" and "Run home to Mommy and Daddy" or even "You're screwing up your kids and putting unnecessary stress on your family" when the ones making the comments know nothing about the wants, needs, beliefs, lifestyles and/or circumstances of the wife and family in question.

In our case, my husband just wanted to deploy feeling that his wife and child are safe and okay. We discussed it, planned it out, talked to family about it. But in the end, the move would have been too much of a stress. By the time we talked it out, we only had a few months remaining and there were too many things to do, consider and worry over. At first Habibi was upset. I admit, I was a little disappointed, too. Life would definitely be less stressful back home considering this is our first deployment and I'm not skilled with those super-hero-wife powers everyone talks about... plus we've also established I'm not one to easily make friends so I was potentially facing a lonely road... But in the end, one thought made him feel more accepting to the idea of us staying behind here at Bliss- one that helped me feel pretty confident myself; we'll already be here to greet him when he comes home.

The fact that we really are staying behind during deployment is becoming more and more real as the date closes in. I'm a nervous wreck and I'll admit to having multiple mini panic attacks in a day. There are things working against me, but a few new things working for me, too. I just keep reminding myself that I need this. I need to be here. Because, in all honesty, I do feel like I need to wear my big girl panties and regain the former independent amazon self I was before I became wife and momma.

But let me just say... if I ever decide to move back home. That is MY choice. Mine and my husband's. Nobody else's.

To the gals who are staying behind, I'm here with you.

To the gals who are heading home, whatever your circumstance, may your life be made better by it. I support you. I'll miss you and hope to see you again soon when deployment is overwith.

Making Friends...

I am not great at making new friends. Pretty horrible at it, in my own opinion. I'm an oddball- no mainstream fish. A family member once joked that I'm that crayon that looks green, but then writes yellow- as a child, I hated that crayon. Whenever it'd write yellow on my paper, I'd get irritated and put it back. After a while I'd toss it out of the box completely because I was tired of it funking up my colouring books. I doubt that was her intention behind the statement, but when I thought about it, that's how I took it. I'm not most people's cup of tea. I'm an acquired taste (like when you order a drink for the first time, sip it and go BLECH! Ugh! This tastes funky! But then some people go back for more sips anyway and decide later they like it after all). However, I've come to "belong" (I like putting it that way) to a few who find my unfiltered mouth, my inappropriate brain and my inability to comprehend sarcasm, catch onto social cues and common sense adorable. How, I'll never know. The majority of them have been friends with me since we were the Kiddo's age- when nobody was weirded out by anybody- and they grew to love me as I am. The remaining few just happen to be as strange as I am, with no room to judge. Habibi would be one of those remaining few. He acknowledges my behavior and habits, loves me all the same.


Unfortunately, none of these friends could come with us when we PCS'd here to Bliss; leaving me to my biggest worry of all- having no one. Unlike most wives, I didn't join the FRG. I don't want to go to meetings. I don't really attend the post events. I didn't want to live in post housing. My experiences with people, especially in large groups in social settings, have never been good even with my best efforts. Even Habibi seems to share some anxiety for me when we're thrown into social things.


When we PCS'd here, Habibi introduced me to what I've heard many wives (and their husbands) refer to as a "default friend"; the wife of a friend your husband makes. They're friends, hence you and the wife become friends (doesn't always happen, but that's the idea behind it). He was pretty confident that she and her husband both would be open and accepting to me. They have been, and they're lots of fun to hang out with. But at the same time I feel as though I've been interjected into their lives. This wife has her own friends and does lots of things- always busy and involved. I often end up feeling like it's not a mix I really belong in. I'm on the outside while being inside, if that makes sense. Habibi and I both thought maybe it was an initial feeling- just anxiety- and that over time it would go away. But even six months into Bliss, it was still feeling the same.


But recently, I took a little jump I hadn't even expected or meant to happen.


I frequent many online pages and groups for Wives and Families stationed at Fort Bliss. I don't really post (unless there's a question I can answer), but I watch. I lurk. On a daily basis I see women post things- seeking advice, looking for help, looking for others with like minds, offering their own advice... and often times I see them met with hateful, ignorant and/or judgmental responses... Other wives telling them they're stupid, reckless, inappropriate and judging their situations as though it were posted for a debate. On and on. I felt sorry for these women, not being met with open minds and arms. Especially since we're all supposed to be here supporting one another... right? I mean, that's what they say. "We're Army Wives. We're supposed to stick together... but you're stupid and your lifestyle is disgusting..." See how wrong that sounds?


Anyway, I found myself creating a place for these women. A place where they could vent their frustrations, talk about anything they like without boundaries and be met with acceptance, advice and open minds. None of that "this is right and wrong", "that's disgusting", "I would NEVER..." or anything. Just encouragement and understanding. In a matter of weeks I began to open up, myself.


We've slowly begun stepping out from behind our computers to meet with each other. A few of the gals have my number, now, and we text frequently. I still battle with social anxiety, even with these women- but I also feel a swell of happiness and I relax somewhat knowing they don't care, they still think I'm awesomely fun. At this point I think if I had tourettes and screamed random obscenities they wouldn't give a damn. And I can honestly say I wouldn't either if they did the same. They're great women; strong, offbeat, with their own special circumstances and particular lifestyles.


I never imagined I would make these friends- make any friends, really. But for the first time since PCSing here, I don't feel so terrified of living alone out here through my first deployment with no one.

Working on a Game Plan

NTC. Ugh. An acronym to be dreaded. The boys leave for an entire month of training in the desert while the women stay behind to fend for themselves. When Habibi first told me about it, I said "No problem!" After all, we'd spent a year apart when he trained in the Navy, and six months apart when he went to WTC and then AIT with the Army. 30 days? Pssssssshhhhh.


Well, at least that's what I thought. What I didn't consider was that both of the previous times, I was still in my home-state, surrounded by home-friends, family and home-food. He may have been gone for a long time, but I wasn't alone. This time it was only 30 days, but in a new place, by myself, with a crazy 5 year old. Cabin fever caught up with me pretty quick and within days I thought I would die without adult conversation. Of course now I know where I went wrong; I had no game plan.

EVERY WIFE needs a game plan and I'm glad I realized this before deployment. When you're back home surrounded by familiarity- well... you don't really have to have a game plan. You can pretty much go with the regular, every day flow. But when you're in a new place where you don't know many people and don't get out much (and you're facing insanity), it's probably a good idea.


Instead, I spent the entire four weeks writing letters, paying bills, budgeting money, making grocery lists, stressing about Habibi being gone and things I'd have to take care of by myself and more things once he got back... and, well, that was pretty much ALL I did. I felt like I was surviving instead of just living. It wasn't a healthy mode to be in. I think if we didn't have Easter the the Kiddo's 5th birthday, I'd have probably lived in my bed (or couch, really... For some odd reason I couldn't stand sleeping in our bed the whole time he was gone. Never done that before and felt weird about it. Even stranger, the Kiddo- who still cosleeps with us a majority of the time- didn't want to sleep with me at all the entire time, either.)

The most eventful it got, really, was Easter weekend. First we got huge Easter Bunny care packages from my Mom and Grannie, which the Kiddo tore through immediately (it looked like a serial killer broke into the house and murdered the Easter Bunny all over my livingroom) then we packed a small suitcase and spent the weekend at his best friend's house, complete with friends coming over, egg dying, baskets from us (the Moms), a good old-fashioned egg hunt and ending with waking up to bunny baskets on Easter morning.


That following Tuesday, the Kiddo turned 5. After sending out a note to everyone on my facebook in March about not having his Daddy around for the big day, birthday cards began pouring in throughout the entire month from everyone all over. We collected them and pinned them to the giant blank wall in our livingroom (nicknamed "The Birthday Wall").

I let him open presents (sent by family members) and we walked down to his favourite place to eat- Chilis- using a gift card sent by a friend in one of the birthday cards. It was less than awesome compared to our usual birthday routines in the past, though Chuug was very happy and content with how things went down. Bless him, because had he been a ten year old he'd have probably kvetched and whined about the whole do-nothingness.


Now I look back on those four weeks and think UGH! There was SO MUCH MORE I could have done! Not just for the Kiddo's birthday, but in general. I could have made myself promise to run on my elliptical for at least 30 minutes a day, every single day Habibi was gone. I could have opened that ginormous latch-hook kit I bought last year and finally did it. I could have done a "picture-a-day-while-you-were-away" album on facebook. I could have practiced new recipes to make for when he came home. I could have de-cluttered our big utility closet. I could have made paintings or worked on sketching up new tattoo ideas to get someday. Hell, I could have taught myself how to play Habibi's guitar! Hundreds of opportunities just flew out the window in those four weeks- all because I didn't make a game plan. I was too busy focusing on things like remembering the bills, waiting for the mailman, waiting on the maintenance man, dealing with insomnia, figuring out which groceries to get and how much to spend, would I be able to fill Chuug's Easter basket... Sure, those are all important things. But they were ALL I thought about and ALL I did. 

It didn't really hit me til Habibi came home and asked me what we did while he was away. He said "Wow. I thought you would have done more than that!" Over the next couple of days he would laugh and say "You could have done that while I was gone. You could have tried this while I was gone." Ugh. Irritating... but he was so right. I felt ashamed. I'd always considered myself a pretty independent person, but that whole time it felt like I was at a total loss while he was gone. It's not an awesome feeling at all.


Anyway, so now I've begun working on a "Game Plan" for when Habibi deploys. Things I ought to do/try/make/buy and goals to set for myself. Ways to keep me busy and hopefully less stressed and/or depressed. I've got a pretty good amount of things so far! I just keep thinking... Thirty days without a Game Plan was hell. I couldn't imagine 12-15 months without one. 

Becoming a "Mature Adult" about Infertility

Four years ago today... was a very happy day. The idea of having another baby made us so happy and excited. I spent days, weeks, hell- months imagining and planning and dreaming of our little family growing. That day, Habibi bought me a baby book and I picked out an outfit and baby blanket, which we tucked away in my hope chest, ready for our new addition.

Three years ago today... was a very disheartening and discouraging day. After an entire year of unsuccessful attempts at conceiving our second child, I hoped that moving on to specialists would be what we needed. But at the same time I was slowly becoming pessimistic at our chances after passing the one-year mark.

Two years ago today... was a very depressing day. Another unsuccessful year, despite the help of specialists and fertility medications. I was left with empty arms and a womb full of cysts. I spent the day in tears, feeling sorry for myself and angry at the world.

One year ago today... was a sad day. Our lives had seemingly hit the bottom; physically, mentally and emotionally. Over the year it had become almost painful to talk about fertility and babies. I spent the day sleeping, almost pretending to be sick just to be left alone. I was too sad to talk, too tired to think and too exhausted to cry. I spent the whole day just laying there, mourning the family we still did not have.

Today... is just another day. Just another day I mark down on our big dry-erase calendar. When I went to cross the day off the calendar, I took a long pause and let it sink in. My moment of silence to mourn. I thought of the child we're tried so long for, who has not come. I thought about our son, who has been asking for a sibling that we have not given. I thought about the days we spent with him as a baby over these last years; about how our experiences we had with him will likely not be repeated. I thought about the days that my husband and I spent talking about our big family we wanted and the plans we had.

And then I took a few deep breaths, took a bath, drank my tea and went about my day.

I admit that I took pause a few times today to think about it. It's too hard to let something that's been such a big part of your life and your dreams go- and not think about it on this day. But despite that, I maintained my feelings of calm, acceptance and hope.

I feel like I've suddenly grown up and become a "mature adult" about my infertility.

I wish I had felt this way all the years before.

I'll Be Home for the Holidays?

Oh, winter holidays. You have always been my most favourite time of the year with your cold bundle-up weather, catchy holiday tunes, piping hot drinks and colourful decorations... The happiness and cheer is always so contagious, like an airborne drug. I never understood how someone could be depressed during these times. But oh man... This year stress actually gave the holiday cheer a run for it's money.


I never could understand those wives who would say "We're not going home for Christmas." in my online groups and forums. Who wouldn't want to go home for the holidays? ANY excuse to go home seemed good to me. But, of course, we were a Navy Family, at the time, who had the good luck to be stationed in our own hometown. I was already home for the holidays, not stationed out thousands of miles from home like the rest of the wives and their families, having to watch their budgets and try to plan around others' schedules.


This would have been our first Christmas away from home- however, with a deployment scheduled for the next year, Habibi felt that it would be best if we made the drive back to New Orleans to spend what would be his last Christmas before deployment with our families. I was excited, he was excited, the kiddo was excited- yay, we're going home!


But as much as I loved being home and seeing everyone, when I look back on it now that we're back in EP, I just keep thinking about how stressful it was. It was stressful getting out there- driving the whole 1,150 miles again (oh, the toll it took on our wallet with gas prices...), it was a bit stressful being there and having to work around everyone's schedules and share time (we couldn't even manage to see everyone, which was upsetting), it was stressful driving back home with a heavy, loaded down vehicle (and gas prices again) and now it's just stressful being back home and having to rearrange our bills because we went over our budget. Stress, stress, stress!


Now I just keep thinking about how we could have just saved hundreds of dollars, stayed here and celebrated our own intimate Christimas, just our little family, alone together in our very first home away from home for the very first time.


Maybe that seems selfish, but I'm a pretty logical person- and moving away from home in mid-October, going back home in December and then going home again for Pre-Deployment leave sometime this coming summer just seems a little excessive... Doesn't it? I mean, if we were millionaires then sure. But on the paycheck of a lower enlisted soldier with a family?


I think now I understand the wives who used to post about staying home for the holidays.


I haven't quite decided what the kiddo and I will do next winter when Habibi is deployed. Maybe we'll stay back here, maybe we'll take the shorter trip over to San Diego to visit my father (since it was technically supposed to be his Christmas with us this time) and just save money to be able to make a future trip back to New Orleans when Habibi returns home instead. Or maybe we will just give in and go back next Christmas anyway, since we'll be alone. There are so many factors to be considered and multiple choices.


I'm curious, now, to know what other's policies are on going home for the holidays.