He’s back.
There I was, just getting started with my day when all of a sudden, he called. It wasn’t just that he called but that he called for the second time that morning that I knew something was up. “Hi Honey! What’s going on?” I asked, but with more intent, like “what is going on and why are you calling me again this morning” kind of way.
“Well… what are you doing for the next few hours?”
I pause. Truthfully, I was going to catch up on my Sunday Stories and eventually talk myself into working out. But I knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“Uhh…. PICKING YOU UP??”
“YUP!!”
I was happy and excited and nervous and unprepared and totally caught off guard. While he had been in the states for about a week or so, we didn’t think he would be released until Friday. It was Monday. That’s five whole days earlier than anticipated, for all you right-brained folks. You would think after all this time, any day/hour/minute sooner couldn’t come soon enough, but I was too busy looking around at my un-clean home, the laundry that hadn’t been done, my hair that hadn’t been shampooed that day (pfft, who are we kidding, it was way longer than that) and an empty fridge. I had planned on having an immaculate house, a kitchen full of his favorite food, and somehow a body that was miraculously 10lbs lighter and tighter. Now, in the middle of my Monday morning routine, I had to drop everything, pack up Meatwad and make the 1.5 trip to get him.
I mean, how inconsiderate of him, right?
So, after a painfully long drive, I made my way to the gate and saw my man. In the parking lot of a training facility, we were finally reunited. Suddenly and very unceremoniously, the deployment had ended and we were jolted back into our new normal.
In the movie version of our lives, this is the beautiful ending where we drive off into the sunset in our CR-V with our two kids and stare lovingly at each other because everything is going to be JUST FINE! But this is not the movie version of our lives. This is not the end. This is the beginning. Maybe it’s even the middle. But this is NOT the end. This is the part where we try to adjust to all of the changes we have endured while we do a thorough check of ourselves, our marriage, and our sons to make sure that we didn’t damage ourselves beyond repair.
First of all, when you live apart for a year, you develop what Sex and the City fans know of as “secret single behavior”. After I got used to being the only adult in my house, I found a lot of happiness in these behaviors such as, but not limited to, working out in my underwear, eating crackers with butter on them, going to the bathroom with the door open, catching up on older versions of The Real Housewives of Orange County, and so on. I also became a crazy clean freak. A lot of this came on during the nesting phase of my pregnancy and never really left once Meatwad came home. I would vacuum everyday if I could and I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until the kitchen was pristine. Now, suddenly and with little notice, there was another person in my house and his stuff. was. everywhere. A years worth of uniforms, equipment, socks, books, mugs, and underwear lay strung across our bedroom floor and any available counter space in the den. And on top of that, I was now with another adult who was also used to going to the bathroom with the door open.
Deep Breaths. Calm Blue Oceans. Serenity Now.
Then there was shift in parenting responsibilities. The irony is not lost upon me that all year long, I complained about being a “solo” parent and the minute I get my partner back, I was struggling with letting go of responsibilities. Actually, he doesn’t get milk until dinner. If you don’t mind, he prefers to be held this way. Ya know what? Why don’t I just help him take a bath. Just sit down and relax. I’ll just do it all by myself forever and we will both be happier for it.
What was wrong with me! My husband was finally home from his deployment and our family was finally made whole again but I couldn’t just sit there and feel the way I wanted to feel. Was something wrong with us? Had I become a different person? Did we change too much? Or maybe, nothing ever lives up to the hype.
The truth is, the answer was Yes for each one of those questions. Yes, something was wrong with us. We voluntarily signed up for a deployment when our son was just a little over a year old and decided to try to get pregnant again ANYWAY. Now, “voluntarily” is putting it nicely. He could have gotten out of it if he REALLY wanted to. But when push came to shove, we said “let’s do this” because it was a good financial opportunity and it was only a year of our lives. A year of our lives.
I did become a different person. I became someone who was a lot stronger than I thought I was. I didn’t break down. I didn’t give up. I never took the easy way out of anything. I pushed through the deployment with my head down and as a result, a thick outer wall developed around me. Things stopped being really funny or really sad or really anything. Things just… were. That meant that my spectrum of feelings had gone from a 1-10 scale to a 3-5. I was as excitable as Susan Surandon at the DNC when I should have been as excited as Bill Clinton with the balloons!
We did change too much. We were both single for a year and suddenly, we were married with two kids. The Talking Heads song “Once in a Lifetime” has never applied to me more than it did when he came home. I was used to being home by myself and he was used to being alone too. We learned how to be resourceful on our own and not depend on others. Even the first few meals I made, I didn’t make enough food because I wasn’t used to the excess. We did change.
Finally, and most importantly, nothing lives up to the hype. Nothing in my life has ever lived up to the hype, from my wedding day to the birth of our children. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t enjoy either of these occasions, but we so are guilty of putting unreasonable expectations around feelings that we forget to actually feel them in the moment. Maybe that’s why we are constantly taking pictures so that we can go back and look at them to assign the appropriate emotion for the moment (#soblessed).
After the dust settled, the house was put back to order, and the kids were asleep, we sat down on the couch and had a moment to ourselves.
“Do you still like me the same?” I asked.
“Of course I do, honey. Do you still like me the same?”
We stopped and looked at each other and I melted into his big burly chest. “Of course I do,” I said. “But let’s not ever do that again.”
DailyDebs 
