Monday, February 27, 2012

Vapor Rub Tissues

Last week I was awesome.  I said goodbye to my DH at the airport, gave myself the rest of the day for some therapeutic wallowing, and woke up Tuesday feeling strong and ready to roll.  I stuck to my R.I.C.E diet like a champion.  That's my list of coping mechanisms.  Anyone who's going through something needs a list.  I attended a seminar about how to survive military deployments a couple years ago, given by an author who wrote an encouraging book on the subject.  She suggested making a physical list of things that help you feel better, and to post that list somewhere obvious, like the bathroom mirror.  If you begin to notice you haven't been doing anything on that list for awhile, that's a sign you're slipping, and might need some help.  This time around, my list is my RICE diet.

Reading
Indexing
Crocheting 
Exercise

Those are a few things I enjoy, keep me busy, and make me feel better.  I fully embraced all of them last week.  I started a new book, and stayed up late a few nights getting lost in it's pages.  I began a list of little crocheting projects, and looked up some new patterns to try.  I exercised 4 times last week, which took some effort, but was worth it.  I became an official "indexer".  Indexing is the process of reviewing scanned genealogical records such as birth certificates, draft papers, baptismal records, etc. and entering the basic information from them into a system that makes the information searchable and available for anyone trying to find their ancestors.  It's fun and addicting, and you can learn more about it here.  

I also found time to do all the laundry, which is especially hard the first week of a deployment, because I have to wash and fold all my husbands things he wore the previous week, knowing he wont wear them for awhile.  It's a bit of a downer, but I did it.  I kept up with the dishes, vacuumed the entire house, cleaned the curtains in my bedroom, took a field trip to a history museum, attended a church activity, and made a new friend.  A week to be proud of!!

My running start came to a halt this morning though, when I woke up with a stuffy head, and constant runny nose.  Isn't it interesting how those come together?  Interesting in a frustrating way, that is.  You'd think with the leaky faucet nose, that the pressure in my sinuses would be relieved.  Sadly no.  Taking a sick day means no exercise.  However it doesn't mean I get a break from making meals, laundry, housework, or taking care of the kids.  They have to get done, and there's no one else to do it.

They say military wives are tough, so I decided to give tough a try.  I took some Sudafed and Tylenol, and got to work.  I had to mail a package to my DH- there were some things he left at home it turns out he needs.  On the way to the post office, we stopped by the grocery store.  The girls were being loud and obnoxious, but as long as they didn't get in the way of other customers, I didn't have the energy to scold them.  I was the picture perfect example of that worn out looking mom in the grocery store, who gives homemakers a bad name.  I should have worn a shirt that said, "Deployed Dad, sick Mom, don't judge".

My attitude sank lower still we when got in line to check out.  In front of us was an airman, looking sharp in his blues (aka the more formal looking AF uniform of blue dress pants, lighter blue shirt, and shiny shoes) holding a bouquet of very pretty flowers.  My heart dropped to my stomach.  I'd forgotten about "Blues Monday".  All local active duty personnel have to wear their blues on Mondays.  When my DH is home, I love blues Mondays, because he looks dashing in his uniform.  I miss that when he's gone, and usually make a note not to visit grocery stores on Mondays, because it's painful to see all the soldiers picking up last minute things at the store for their families, knowing my husband's not one of them.  Watching the airman in front of me pay for his beautiful bouquet of light pink roses and lilies, I sighed inwardly and placed my vapor rub tissues on the counter.

I'm still awesome, and plan to pick up my RICE diet again as soon as I can kick this cold.  I'm down, but not out.  Not yet!  Maybe when I'm done with the tissues, I'll turn my tissue box into this:


The only thing that could make that more perfect, is my handsome man in his blues, hand delivering it.  Maybe in approximately two and a half months.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Soak in the Daddy Time!

After 8 wonderful uninterrupted months together, the time has come where Daddy has to deploy again.  I'm so grateful for the timing of his last homecoming, and for this long break with him home, that I feel guilty being sad this day has come.  I was talking with my mom the other day though, and she gave some insightful advice.  Not a rare thing for my mom, many of you have probably heard me repeat sound wisdom from her.  She said she's realized we really can't control what we feel.  We feel what we feel!

Emotional pain is like physical pain.  When or how it happens is not within our control. Imagine if an OB doctor told a mother in labor, that she shouldn't be feeling pain.  It's all in her head.  I think if such a doctor existed, he wouldn't live long! Of course her pain is real!  She can't decide whether she feels pain or not.  There are coping strategies for pain.  Lamaze classes, right?  However I think most mothers who have actually experienced childbirth will admit such classes are beautiful in theory . . . but when you're in the delivery room, and it's all so much worse than you ever imagined, you consider strangling the nurse who's reminding you to breathe in patterns!  You can't control what you feel, and it isn't easy to control how you react to feelings either.

Despite the thousands of books written on emotional health, and millions of dollars spent on therapy, I think when it comes to painful experiences we know are coming- most of us follow a universal 3 step approach:

1. Dread
2. Acceptance
3. Endurence


So while experiencing phase 1 during the last few days Daddy is home, we're trying our best to not be too distracted by the process, so we can enjoy what time we have left before steps 2 and 3.

Last Sunday I stayed home with Merrylee and Ben who were fighting colds, so it was just Anny and Daddy at church together.  Daddy said she was a very good girl.  I curled her hair, she looked very grown up and pretty.        



Daddy had an old ROTC buddy call up and say he was driving through our area, so he meet him for dinner in Pensacola, and took Merrylee with him.  Being the middle child, she doesn't get a lot of individual parent time.  She felt very special to be the only one accompanying him, and was excited to have Dad all to herself.  
Baby Ben will probably go through the most changes while Daddy is gone, so he's tried to spend a little extra time with him too.  Some might argue 8 months is a little early for ice cream.  Ben didn't complain though, and there's no way Daddy was going to miss sharing that first bite of Bryers Mint Chocolate Chip.

So phase 1 hasn't been too horrible.  Wish us luck for 2 and 3.  I don't think I'll be in the mood to blog about them.