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.