I will have pictures up of our place and the area very soon, but tonight I’m gonna go all philosophical on y’all.
I’m hormonal, and I miss my husband. Forgive me. 😉
J left to meet the ship in San Diego yesterday, which was harder on all of us than I think he or I expected. It’s strange how easily you fall into a routine, even if you know it’s only temporary. You never really get used to it, I guess.
We’ve gotten a lot of answers we’ve been looking for in the past 24 hours, none really that I wanted to hear. When we originally got the orders, we thought once we were married our orders would be extended from two years to three years. A good part of Washington’s appeal for me was Bastyr University, the natural medicine school in Seattle. I thought I could get my AS in Biology from the college in Bremerton and transfer there for my BS in Herbal Sciences. I knew three years was cutting it close, but it was doable. It turns out the tour schedule has changed, and we will more than likely only be here two years. As selfish as it is to admit, I’m really upset.
If you watch any movie or TV show or read an article on military life, the number one word that will come up is sacrifice, not only for the soldier/sailor/marine/etc. but also for the family. You sacrifice having a spouse who comes home every night – or who can even call every night. You sacrifice having a permanent home for more than a few years. You sacrifice Christmases and birthdays as a family.
But more than that, you sacrifice your right to disappointment. Now hear me out, I’m not saying that you can’t be disappointed and that if you are, you’re a bad military spouse.
Because I’m disappointed.
I’m disappointed my husband isn’t home and that he might miss another of Little J’s birthdays. That he will miss another of my birthdays. I’m disappointed that because the Navy chose to change tour schedules, my dreams are going to be put in second place again. I’m disappointed for all the moments and the milestones and the once-in-a-lifetime events that we’re going to have to celebrate apart. Again.
But I’m also guilty.
Because as much as it sucks and as unfair as it is that I have to chase the screaming child and take care of Naughty Puppy and unpack the boxes and rethink my education, I’m still here for all the moments and the milestones and the once-in-a-lifetime events. And my husband is not.
In all the not-so-good news and sighs and wallowing today, what got me the most was when I was talking to J on the phone, and I heard a guy in the background say, “I love you. Tell the kids I love them, too.” I couldn’t tell you why. I’d just put the phone up to Little J’s ear not ten minutes earlier and said, “Say, ‘Night-night, Daddy. I love you.'” But it made me sad to know that someone – probably a lot of someones – else was saying good night to his wife and kids over the phone.
Now. There is a (strong) possibility that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and be appalled that I went all mushy and sappy on my blog. So again, I apologize.
I’ve probably watched one too many episodes of Army Wives… 😀