Soundtrack

Isn’t it funny how a song can take you right back to the past? I’m listening to my iPod today, and O.A.R.’s “Shatter” came on. Immediately, it’s late September 2009.

I’m sitting in the airport with K and his roommate. They’re both waiting on their flight back to Iraq from R&R. As a military spouse, I was given a special pass (after showing a few legal documents) by the USO that would allow me to go back to the boarding area with K. It was a coincidence that his roommate was there at the same time. The guys had a couple hours until their flight, so we went to Chili’s for lunch.

K’s roommate talked about all the music he’d downloaded, catching up on the new songs that had come out in the 9 months they’d already been gone. “I’m really liking that new song by O.A.R.,” he said. “Have you heard it?”

K and I (rock fans) shook our heads. Bryan started singing the lyrics: “You know, ‘How many times can I break ‘til I shatter …’? Something like that. Good song.”

Naturally, I heard it after that. And downloaded it. And associated it with that day.

Just like I associate “Low” with K, Bryan, and Bryan’s fiancé (now wife), since my first experience with “the ‘boots with the fur’ song” came when Bryan talked about how much his fiancé loved it and how it had come on when they were out in Houston the previous weekend. We were all sitting on the floor or an air mattress – the sole furniture left in their apartment, since they were leaving for 15 months – when it came on Bryan’s playlist.

Or how Flyleaf’s “All Around Me” can still make me tear up. It’s one of the songs that randomly made me cry on the way to work. And there’s Lonestar’s “I’m Already There,” which made me cry in the dentist chair.

Deployments are fresh on my mind again, given K’s bomb he dropped late Wednesday night. After holding it together all day at work (yet getting nothing done because I couldn’t concentrate), I was finally able to cry about it on my way home.

When I got to the house, K’s brother & co. (the four guests at our house) were there. I had expected them to be gone, still out at their amusement park trip. I had to just keep my sunglasses on and head up to our room to avoid a “what’s wrong with your eyes?” conversation. K and I were rushing off to a kickball game anyway, so I had a good excuse.

K was frustrated at me, though, for being upset. We talked about it as we drove to our game. I told him how I had thought we were safe from deployments for another year or so—which to me meant they weren’t even going to be a possibility. I told K I understood that he was the one bringing this up (as opposed to the military in the form of orders) and that nothing was necessarily happening. But I also understand his reasoning and have to agree that it’s what makes sense.

I told him I was just adjusting to the possibility. “This is you adjusting?!” he asked incredulously.

I don’t know if that means he’s worried I won’t handle the deployment well. But I’ve been through 2 of these stupid things, and I handled them like a champ, if I do say so myself. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. K told me that he never lets himself think deployments are out; that people get called up individually all the time. I know these things. But that doesn’t make it easier to talk about.

“See, this is why I hate being in a non-deployable unit,” K said. “You get comfortable.”

That last statement seemed funny in several ways. I mean, how could we not be thinking about combat zones and training and missions and separation? Who stops thinking about that?!

“I’m sorry! I married you because I like hanging out with you!”  

K’s tone changed after that comment. It’s part of his job to hold it together and think logically and always be ready for deployments and be a badass and not break in front of his soldiers. He’s good at all those things.  

But I didn’t join the military (well, I guess I partially did by marrying into it). But I never took an oath swearing to serve and protect. And while I may not have a role in the “protect” portion of K’s duty, I sure as hell still have to serve.

I’m proud of that role. I’m proud of K for what he does.

And when he does deploy, whether it’s from here or from some other place we’re stationed, I’ll be a badass about it then. But I can be a little upset about it now. 

The d-word

K and I were on our way home from the bar after kickball. We had given a friend from another team a ride home.

"We have to have a big party and invite their whole team over. I really like them."

K agreed.

"Maybe for our birthdays! I really do want to do a big blowout this year for my 28th. I mean, since we're moving next summer, well be getting settled and won't do anything big next year. And you'll probably be deployed for my 30th. Woo-fucking-who. Let's celebrate now."

"Yeah," K said, "I've been thinking about that. Maybe I should just deploy from here."

It was like a punch in my stomach.

"What?"

"Since you have a support system here."

"What do you mean? How could you do that?" I know that there's always a good chance that K will deploy again. I tell myself that I expect it, but it will never lessen the blow. But he's not attached to a unit that would deploy. I thought we were in the clear for the next year or so.

"Well, I could volunteer to go so I can guarantee that I go to [training K is hoping for next summer] afterward."

I sure as hell didn't see that coming. "When were you thinking about this?"

"Just the other day."

"Well, I don't think this is a good time to talk about it. But we're definitely going to have to have a conversation later." It was 2 a.m. We had just turned onto our street, heading toward our house, where four guests were asleep inside. Plus, the sudden dropping of the "d-word" had quickly magnified the effects of my beer and a half and shot at the bar.

"Every time there's a deployment, I feel like we're tempting fate. Whether it's you, or friends ..."

"Every time we get behind the wheel of a car, we're tempting fate," K said.

"Yeah, but driving isn't the same as being in a combat zone."

I've often wondered what it must be like to be married to someone without having to worry about deployments or even lengthy field exercises. I told K this as we climbed into bed. "There's always something else," he said. Thinking logically. Like short business trips or office retreats can be compared to months spent apart while he's in combat.

Even though in a way it was just normal work talk to him -- and not even anything coming down in the form of orders or official plans -- I still feel rattled today. I got through the previous deployments, but K's Iraq deployment was the toughest and longest 14 months of my life.

And as much as I try to tell myself I know another one will come, it sure feels a lot different to actually talk about when it could happen.

Thank God time marches on!

(This would have been more timely a few days ago, but hey, the holidays get busy!)

Last Friday (Nov. 27) marked two years from the day K deployed to Iraq (for the second time). K had the day off, but I had to work a half-day. As I sat at my desk, bored to tears with nothing to do since hardly anyone else was working, it was weird to think that two years earlier, I was just beginning the toughest year (and then some) of my life. In fact, until a couple weeks ago, just seeing that date on the calendar would always make my eyes well up with tears. (The date came up at work a good 5 or 6 times a day for the last couple weeks, so I built up an immunity.)

Needless to say, it was great to spend this November 27 with K for the first time since 2005 (remember, on that date in 2006, he was just about to come home from Afghanistan). And unlike the last three November 27ths, I was glad that I spent only a couple hours of this one counting the hours until I could be with my husband again.

Bringing the fight back home

I've blogged about how K's homecoming was a little more of an adjustment than I thought it would be. I guess we weren't the only ones having that problem.

I always thought the hard part of all of this would be the deployment -- that if you can make it through those long months of separation, you're in the clear. Sure, it would take time and some getting used to as far as having the soldier home again, but it's all an adjustment that surely families and spouses would be glad to make. Evidently that's not really the case.

I just learned last night that a couple we're friends with (the fiance I went to visit in Daytona last summer) has broken off their engagement. Another couple we're close to is fighting nonstop (Yet they're still ring shopping, for some reason. They've been together almost as long as K and I.). It seems every week I hear of more couples fresh off of the deployment who are getting a divorce for whatever reason (sometimes due to things they learned their spouse did during the deployment) .

Thankfully, K and I are doing just fine. While his return was an adjustment, it was never anything to make me worry that we wouldn't make it. Change is just something you have to deal with in any long-term relationship; it's just part of life.

Obviously I don't know all the details that led up to the problems our friends and others are having after this deployment. It breaks my heart that several of them have gone through such a challenging time, only to fall apart when they should be getting to celebrate being together again.

I don't know if this epidemic is common after a deployment of this length, but the whole thing has definitely been a learning experience for me. I've heard K's friends mention a few times how deployments can make or break a relationship (I can't even tell you how many couples got engaged or married before the tour or during R&R), but I always thought that was really more true for couples who are just dating.

K and I have both been surprised by the number of couples calling it quits. But it's a good reminder to be a little more patient as K continues to settle in back home, to be even more grateful for having him here, and most of all, to be sure I don't take K or any part of our relationship for granted.

Remember that time K came home from Iraq?

I thought I'd blog about it (finally).

In many ways, the ceremony was like when K came home from Afghanistan in 2006: They tortured us friends and family with sappy music (seriously, "Candle in the Wind"?) along with a slideshow of the soldiers (like we're not emotional enough already). Dozens and dozens of friends and family members held "Welcome Home" signs and crammed into the gym waiting for the soldiers to arrive.

















Unlike 2006, most everyone was dressed appropriately, which was a bit disappointing.

Just like 2006, everyone kept an eye on the windows in the doors of the gym to catch the first glimpse of the buses that would carry our loved ones home.

And just like 2006, once they arrived, they filed neatly out of the buses, into a formation, and then marched one by one into the gym.


















This group was much larger than the group K deployed with in 2006. This was the largest flight back from Iraq, but there were several other flights that arrived home before K's (some as early as late December) and even a couple that arrived after.


















Just like 2006, there was a very brief speech declaring the end of the deployment ... and then the soldiers were released.



I didn't cry for K's homecoming in 2006. We both cried when he arrived in Dallas for R&R.

I noticed K tearing up a bit when the soldiers were still in their lineup before the national anthem and prayer. I'm sure some of it was the emotions and relief of the whole situation, but he said he was also thinking about the people who didn't make it back for the ceremony. Thankfully, no one in K's unit was killed, but K knew a couple people who had died, including his cousin who was killed in Afghanistan in the very same area K had been for the 2006 deployment.

I had wondered if I would cry at the homecoming, given the enormous amount of relief I was sure I'd feel. But I didn't cry.

I was there with two other wives, and we found ourselves in disbelief that the moment had finally arrived. We know all too well that things with the military are constantly changing, so we were too afraid to get excited until the guys were right in front of us. We decided it was the lingering effects of the self-preservation mode we'd been in for well over a year.

One of the wives has an 18-month old son, and she was trying to hold him and their welcome home sign, so I was multi-tasking by taking photos with her (fancier) camera and videos with mine (part of the reason the videos were a bit shaky). We were pleasantly surprised when our husbands wound up coming in one after another and standing by each other during the ceremony. The three of us had told them that we would stay in the bleachers to avoid the mass chaos upon their release. Instead, they would come to us. Hardly anyone else did that, so it worked well.

What also worked great was my method for my sign. I knew that since this deployment was bigger than in 2006, the ceremony would be as well, so I wanted a sign that would stand out in the sea of "WELCOME HOME"s. I had told K for months that the sign would be a giant red "G" (first letter of our last name). Evidently it stood out great, and it provided a laugh for those of us who can have a dirty mind at times.















It's a design I'll have to remember in case of another deployment, and one of my friend told me she'll be using it as well if her husband deploys again.

But for now, it's such a relief to know that for at least the next 14 months, our husbands will be here on good American soil (unless we venture out of the country for vacation!).

Exciting things

Because I can't leave you with just that post after such a long break:

• Look! A homecoming picture (more later, really really really, I promise!)!

• My wedding dress is in! (I haven't run in weeks ... here's hoping it zips up!)
• K and I are going to be famous! (OK, not quite.) There's a media outlet that does a little love story-type feature, and K and I got interviewed for it today!

Even good adjustments take time to get used to

Whenever I'm absent from my blog, it's usually for at least one of three reasons:

1. I'm enjoying a break from the computer (after all, I do have to sit and stare at one all day for work.).
2. I'm really busy.
3. I don't have anything I want to share because it's either (a) not much, or (b) not positive.

Everything is fine, but my absence over the last couple weeks has been due to all of the above at different times.

K arrived back home a little after 5 p.m. on Monday, January 5. (I'll write a post with pictures about the homecoming soon.) After the welcome-home ceremony, we headed to a nearby town that had a bit more to offer than where K is stationed, and we picked up a pizza before checking in to the hotel. K was exhausted from traveling, so he was asleep before 9:30.

Since K didn't have to go back to work until Thursday, I took off the next two days as well. On Tuesday, we didn't do much. We didn't venture out of our hotel room until we decided to get Italian food for dinner. It was wonderful to have so much "just us" time.

On Wednesday, we got out to do a little shopping and exploring around the area we were staying. That took only a couple hours, so we went to the movies to see Yes Man (such a cute movie!).

Thursday morning, we got up early and headed back to post. K checked in at work, and then we headed to a spousal reintegration class we were required to take. We were one of the few couples in the class who'd been through a deployment together before. Actually, K was one of the few who had been deployed previously (this is his 3rd, not counting a year-long stint in Korea, since it's not a combat deployment).

In the class, they talked to us about what not to do with the deployment money. They reminded us of the signs of post-traumatic stress disorder and told us to look for them on both ends -- even for the family members back home, since a deployment isn't just traumatic for the service members. They told us not to sneak up on the soldiers, since their initial reaction might be the one they'd have had over the previous 13 months, which is to protect themselves.

They talked to us about the honeymoon phase and about getting used to being around each other again. They mentioned the effects that the food here can have on the soldiers. (I laughed during that part, since K had tortured me and our hotel bathroom after our Italian dinner.)

We spent the rest of our three days together catching up on the food K had missed, spending time with friends, and updating facebook, since K decided to join while I was taking a nap on Saturday. (I'm pretty sure he's addicted.)

I was actually ready to head back to Dallas that Sunday. I had clung to my routine so much over the last 13-plus months that it was weird to just drop everything for a whole week. And even though things were great with K and me and we had seemed to pick up right where we left off, it had been almost a week of constant togetherness after about 13 months of separation. I didn't mind the idea of a break.

Monday at work, I realized how not stressed I was. I didn't have to worry about my husband getting hit by rockets. I didn't have to worry about leaving my cell phone or who could call me while I'm stuck in a meeting. I didn't have to check my email 50 billion times a day to see if I'd heard from K (although I still pretty much did out of habit). I could call my husband or send him text messages if I wanted to. It was awesome.

The rest of the week, though, I felt different. I felt overwhelmed. I don't know what it was, but I was so anxious and stressed, and not knowing why I felt that way made me frustrated on top of it all.

K picked up on my stress over the phone. "It probably doesn't help that we still don't know when or where we're going next. I can understand why you're frustrated," he said.

That made sense, and I was sure that was part of it, even though there's nothing either of us can do about that right now. But I knew that wasn't all of it.

On nights while K was deployed, if I stayed in with nothing to do, I relaxed. Since I kept myself pretty busy, it was always nice for a break, and there was the added bonus that if K called, I wouldn't have to worry about it being bad timing or not being able to talk to him. But that first week in Dallas after K was back, it was lonely to be by myself. There was no potential unreturnable phone call, and there were no care packages to make or emails to write to tell K about my day. Now, I was just sitting home by myself while my husband is in the next state over.

I had also started feeling anxious about all I needed to do in Dallas but wouldn't be able to do during the week because of work, and I wouldn't have the weekend because I'd be in Louisiana again.

And there was plenty to do for Louisiana: I had K's laundry that I'd insisted on taking with me so he wouldn't have to use the laundromat. I still had quite a few of his things stashed around my apartment, so I had to find everything and gather it up to take with me for the weekend.

I spent an hour loading my car with everything on Friday morning. The more I loaded, the angrier I felt. I had spent the last 13 months doing things for K -- making care packages, baking cookies & muffins, sending wedding & baby gifts to his friends, taking care of bills, sending Christmas cards & regular email updates to his friends & family, reserving his apartment for when he got back ... I had done quite a bit for our wedding plans, including stuffing a ton of Save the Date magnets and sending them out. None of those were particularly exhausting work, but it all added up. I had been anxious for him to get home so I'd have help with these things.

Yet here I was -- in 20-degree, windy weather (I'm sure the wind chill was colder) -- trying to cram all his stuff into my two-door car by myself. I was angry at K. After all, I'd be there to help him unload everything. I'd be there to help him unpack. I was doing all this work alone; he was always getting help.

I felt bitchy, and I didn't like it. I knew that I had taken on all of these tasks. I had volunteered to do them, and I had wanted to do them. The only person I had to me angry at was myself.

The five-hour drive to Louisiana that night felt particularly long. K and a few of the other guys had gone to Houston, rented a U-Haul and bought out an electronics store, so K had all his loot waiting for him back at his new apartment. We started unloading it all as soon as I got there, and then we moved on to my car.

I was tired, and I really hadn't wanted to help, but I did. K was way too excited about his new TV (plus, the Direct TV guy was coming in the morning), so he set it up. I knew how long he'd been wanting it, so I just sat and talked to him while he hooked everything up.

By the time we crawled into bed, I just wanted to go to sleep. I was still frustrated at K, but I still knew that he wasn't to blame for any of it. I felt distant and disconnected from him, so I told him everything I'd been feeling over the last week. He was understanding and said it all sounded like normal, acceptable ways to feel. It's just been more of an adjustment than I realized it would be to have him back home. I hadn't expected that.

Then, K said, "I know it sounds crazy, but I actually kind of miss being in Iraq." He told me that even though he's glad to be home, there's an excitement about being there that you just don't get on post in Louisiana. He said he didn't know if it was the camaraderie of being with the guys all the time, or the fact that you never know what's going to happen -- not to mention the fact that what you're doing there (serving your country) is a pretty cool thing to begin with.

We learned that night that we're both adjusting to things going back to normal. It's hard to go about our lives the way they were before K left and just pretend that the last 13 months didn't happen. It's impossible to ignore that they did, and no one's asking us to, really. It's just different.

I felt so much better after our conversation. It was great to get all that off my chest, and it was so reassuring to know that talking about everything face to face had made it all OK.

The giddiness is starting to hit!

It's official: K will be home tomorrow around 5!!! We only get 36 to 48 hours' notice of the exact arrival time, but now it's for sure!

My car is loaded with my clothes for the week, along with K's "civilian" clothes, freshly washed and folded. I'm about to head out on the road to Louisiana!

At church this morning, the sermon was called "Moments of a Lifetime." (Perfect timing, huh?) It was all about how the present moment should be the greatest moment of your life. The future is somewhere out there, unknown, and even though we may have had amazing moments in the past, all we are left with is memories. Each present moment is a gift from God, and it should be the greatest moment of our lives.

Pretty sure for at least the next week, I'll have no trouble feeling the message of this sermon in my life!

Well-rested, with a successful shopping trip. What's not to love about 2009?

I spent New Year's just like I'd hoped: sleeping. I actually had some motivation to go to bed early, since my body has decided to hit me with a sinus infection. I'm determined to wipe it out before Monday.

So I went to bed at 10:30 Wednesday night. I was awakened several times throughout the night by Piper crunching her food; someone honking their horn for a while off in the distance, followed by a few pops that I'm pretty sure were fireworks (Happy New Year!); and text messages at all hours of the night and morning. My friends are obviously cooler than me, since they all seemed to be out and awake. At least I was rested.

I laid in bed awhile the next morning, and when I got up, I didn't want to mess with laundry, so I watched some football instead. After lunch, I showered, cleaned up and then headed out to try to find something to wear for K's arrival.

When K came home from Afghanistan in 2006, it was just after Thanksgiving. It was cold out, so I wore a long-sleeve V-neck shirt. The amount of short skirts and tiny tops I saw at the welcome home ceremony was a bit surprising for that time of year. While I'm sure I'll see plenty of the same on Monday (Monday!!!), I will not be sporting that look myself.

I wanted a light, pretty sweater. Something bright, and something V-neck (Hey, just because I don't want cleavage up to my neck doesn't mean I have to have fabric up to it too!). I'm going to wear jeans and my cowboy boots, since they're cute and fun -- and dang it, so am I!

I found a sweater, and I'd post a picture of it, but on the store's website, it's layered with a button-down shirt that makes the sweater look dumpy. I assure you it won't look dumpy on me on Monday. You'll just have to wait to see the pictures from the ceremony (which I highly doubt I'll be posting on Monday). (Monday!!!)

Don't let the door hit ya, 2008

Dear 2008,

Man, will I be glad to see you go. At first glance, it seems like I really shouldn't be that angry with you. After all, it was 2007 that took my husband away from me for over a year. But still, you did bring things like this and this to me out of nowhere.

I did my best to celebrate your arrival. I went out with two friends to an overcrowded bar, even though all I wanted to do was sleep! Maybe you could tell, though, since you decided to do all you could to drag yourself out, throwing a leap year at me and even adding an extra second to yourself tonight.

I did my best to make you go by quickly, and praise the Lord you did. I kept myself ridiculously busy with training and completing umpteen billion athletic feats (OK, like 6, but whatever. It was a lot.). I went on a couple trips with friends. I got promoted. I met some famous people. I went to a handful of concerts (interesting ones and awesome ones). I rode a hot air balloon for the first time and made it to Day 12 for the first time ever with K. Thanks to K, I got pampered a lot, which was definitely awesome. And I was only in one wedding this year (sorry, haven't blogged about it ... but it was just over a week ago, and I haven't even looked at my pictures yet!).

But I spent a lot of 2008 just waiting, getting by. Almost everything I did was designed to get me closer to 2009. Every step, every pedal, every countdown (man, there were a lot of those!) was added intentionally to make the next countdown seem that much closer. I spent a lot of time exhausted, but my plan worked.

Despite your stubbornness and added time, 2008, I won't look back at you as a bad year, but I'm still glad to see you go. And I'm going to celebrate tonight the way I wanted to last year: I'm going to bed. And I'm sleeping in.

And when I wake up tomorrow, I'll have a smile on my face. It's just that I'm really looking forward to so many things 2009 holds for me: My Sooners are in the national championship (here's hoping we don't roll over and die), I'll get to leave Dallas (thank you, Jesus!), K and I will have our "real" wedding (and it will be awesome!), and I'll finally finally finally get to live with my husband (in case you're wondering, we still don't know where).

But the part of 2009 I'm most looking forward to will come only a few days into the year: K will come home.

So please don't dawdle on your way out, 2008. I'm ready to start living to the fullest again.

Love,
me

Evidently you have to be here to understand it

I just saw a coworker in the kitchen this morning. She asked how my Christmas went -- "Did you get to see your husband? Wait, doesn't he come home soon?"

I said, "Yeah, like in less than a week and a half."

"Oh my gosh! Are you so excited?"

"I'm stressed!"

She gave me a confused look, turned and walked away quickly.

Guess next time I shouldn't be so honest.

I wonder if this means I'll be scrambling in a couple weeks

In an effort to not repeat the absolute neuroticism of the days (and weeks) leading up to K's last return home, I've been trying to not let the fact that the deployment is almost over get to me.

I think for the most part, it's working. Maybe even a little too well.

Because instead of rushing around doing 50 billion things to prepare for K's arrival, when I have time for peace and quiet at home, I've done nothing.

Never mind the fact I need to dust.

Never mind the fact I have papers to file and organize.

Never mind the fact I could stand to organize and throw out quite a few things that will make the eventual (like in 6 months) move easier.

No, this time, my attempt to prevent the insanity, nonstop cleaning and sleepless nights is to do absolutely nothing.

Surely there's a happy medium in there. We'll see if I find it in the next week or so.


*Before you get worried that K will come home to a pigsty, you should know that it could be until mid-January before he's able to come to my apartment in Dallas. The homecoming will take place in Louisiana. :)

A lot to be thankful for

One year ago today, K left for Iraq. By the grace of God, it has gone quickly.

By the grace of God, K has been safe.

By the grace of God, the deployment is set to end early, in January.

I have so much in my life to be thankful for -- and I am, every day -- but this Thanksgiving, these things are at the top of my list.

Sometimes I'm busy when I'm not blogging

• The Coldplay concert was awesome! I will so totally see them again. (Chris Martin, if you must retire at 33, you better have a big farewell tour, because I really really really want to see a Coldplay concert with K.)


• I got my first passport in the mail last week! I can officially travel the world now. And go to Mexico with a huge group of friends once our husbands get back from the deployment next spring. Woohoo!


• I went to see Twilight last Friday night with AJ and a friend from work. I haven't read any of the books, and I don't know if I'll start (Seriously, why doesn't he just turn her into a vampire already?! It's such an obvious solution!), but I sure managed to get a crush on Edward! Never mind the fact that he's only 22 ...


• Um, college football is awesome. (Sorry, Knot!)


• I'm a teensy bit (OK, really) scared for next Saturday's game. (We're playing our second-biggest rivals, the OSU Cowboys, at home in Stoolwater *ahem* Stillwater. SO MUCH rides on the outcome of this game!!!)


• I ran on Sunday for the first time since my half-marathon! The pathetic part: I can feel it in my calves. And I only ran 2 miles. Isn't it awesome how long it takes to build up to that strength and distance ... and how quickly your body can lose it?


• There will be a big military ball this spring after the soldiers return home from Iraq. I happened to be running an errand at the mall when I walked by a big rack that said "70% OFF." I stopped (duh!) and managed to find a gorgeous dress that was only $51 (original price: $170!!!). I now have my dress for the ball. Score!

Lots of little bits of pretty cool news. Saving the best for last:

• K is coming home in January!!!

I don't think that last one has hit me yet. It's starting to. Once it does, though, ohmygosh I'll be freaking out. So it's good it's taking its time, because I have WAY too much to do between now and then. But to look on the bright side, at least it'll get here even faster!

Just what I needed to hear

One of the reasons I could laugh about my little car accident so quickly -- aside from the fact it was completely my fault for being such a ridiculous fan that I forgot to drive my car -- is because it was so minor. Considering we were traveling at least 55 mph, it definitely could have been much, much worse.

The truth is, I had had this feeling that something bad was going to happen. I don't know what it was that brought it on, but it had been there in the back of my mind for a little while.

The very day before the car wreck, a coworker sent me a link to a site with a ticker for all these different statistics. It showed the number of births and deaths all over the world. It had a ticker for people diagnosed with HIV, people involved in car accidents, and deaths from serious illnesses, suicide, war ... I reset the counter, and the numbers instantly started over from that moment. It was crazy how fast some of them grew. It felt like I could jinx myself just by watching some of those numbers climb.

I quickly closed out of the site before the ticker reached 1 for deaths due to war. I didn't want to know how often that ticker updated.

That something's-going-to-happen feeling had been in the back of my mind since before I saw the ticker. Seeing that site, though, just seemed to reinforce the feeling. Which is a huge reason that little fender bender was almost a relief. I told myself that the wreck had filled the bad-thing quota/"premonition," so everything else will be OK. It worked for the most part, but things are obviously going to be stressful no matter what as long as K is deployed.

Then, last week was pretty rough at work. We had a big company meeti.ng announcing that almost 20% of em.ployees would be la!d off. It would all be done by the end of the week. (Try concentrating after news like that!)

I began thinking about what I'd do if I were in that almost 20%. It might be hard to find a job at first, so I could take whatever job I could find until I found another "real" job. I realized that as long as I had K, everything would be OK.

Luckily, I found out fairly early that my job was safe. But the realization that I can get through anything as long as I have K made me a little uneasy, given where he is right now.

This morning at church, the sermon touched on the economy and all the problems people are having with their jobs, including layoffs. I couldn't believe how perfect the timing was with everything we'd gone through at work last week.

In his sermon, the pastor pointed us to a few Bible verses that can help us in times like these. As he spoke, I thought about the verses, K and the events of the previous week.

But the final words of the pastor's sermon grabbed my full attention:

"It is never naive to trust in God's plan."

I was shocked at how comforting those words were.

The last week of R&R

I already wrote about the majority of Day 12 of K's R&R. After we finished the balloon ride, we headed to OK to see my family. We got to my hometown that Tuesday night, and we spent Wednesday hanging out with my dad. He and K went golfing, and I went with them to walk the course.

K taught me how to swing a club while we were there. The closest to a real game of golf I'd ever come was miniature golf -- not quite the same. Swinging the club felt a bit unnatural, and I have no idea who decided all the rules and developed the proper technique to do it, but I did pretty well for my first shot! The ball went straight, which my brother made sound like is tough to do on your first swing when I talked to him later that afternoon.

That night, my dad cooked us the same dinner he has to make every time I go to Oklahoma. He's a butcher, so it's his job to know meat. This means he grills pretty much the best steak you'll ever eat in your life. We had that, salad and baked potatoes, and after we were all completely stuffed, we spent the evening sitting outside talking under the stars -- nice and relaxing.

We headed back to Dallas early the next afternoon. Over the next few days, we did quite a bit of wedding planning. We met with our photographer and our reception coordinator, and we interviewed two DJs. We spent pver 3 hours choosing place settings, kitchen appliances, and pots and pans. Luckily, almost everything we chose was a mutual decision (I compromised on his choice for our everyday dinnerware).

One night, we met up with AJ, Heather and B, and Elle for Mexican food and a silly night at our favorite piano bar. Oh my gosh, we had so much fun!

We girls danced and sang, exhausted ourselves, rested, and danced and sang some more. In one of the pictures below, I'm pretty sure I'm yawning while dancing. I was pretty hot from breakin' it down (ha!), so Elle took the liberty of cooling me off by putting her ice cold beer bottle against my neck -- and spilling her beer in the process. I love that it's all captured on film!

We also got a nice, long laugh when a girl at the table next to us actually passed out on K's shoulder. A minute or so later, she sat up, looked at K and said, "Your shoulder is really comfortable," and went back to sleep. We were all rolling over that one.







































































































































































































Those last few days, we spent a lot of time to ourselves. That Saturday night, we went for Italian ice in a cute little shopping center. We sat outside enjoying our ice cream and just talking and laughing about different things from our day. It was so relaxed, simple and just so us that as I look back, it's one of my favorite moments from the entire R&R.

We went to church on Sunday, and the pastor actually had K stand up so he could tell the congregation he was home from Iraq. It was sweet.

That Monday was our anniversary. In between DJ interviews, K and I went by the running store I'd been wanting to visit for a while. We both got fitted for shoes, and K bought mine for me. That should give me some good motivation to get out and run -- and one more reason to kick butt at the hal.f-marathon I'm running on Nov. 2.

Before I compromised on K's choice for our everyday dinnerware, we had gone to several home stores to try to find dishes that both of us really liked. At one of the stores, I managed to find a set of dishes that I absolutely loved. I knew they weren't K's style, so I didn't suggest that we get them, but it was like someone had made these dishes with me in mind. I loved them!

Days after we'd been to the store, I was still thinking the dishes, so I decided I was going to go back and get them. K even helped me justify the purchase: "You'll probably want a nice, different set of dishes if you have the girls over or something." Well, K wound up buying me the dishes as an anniversary present. Now I love them even more.

















That night, we tried to figure out where we wanted to go to dinner to celebrate our anniversary. We looked at several very nice restaurants in the area. Honestly, though, hardly anything on the menus sounded appetizing to me -- if I even knew what any of it was. K felt the same way. We talked about just going to Ol!ve Garden or something (at least we both know we like that place!). Still, we wanted to do something a little different.

I remembered a restaurant I'd randomly found a couple years ago with ER, her mom and her aunt. It was a random, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that didn't look that special from the parking lot. Inside, though, is romantic and authentically Italian. And the food is delicious. I had intended to take K there at some point, but I'd just forgotten about it. We decided to go there for dinner for our anniversary, and I'm so glad we did! K loved it. There was a rose on each table, and the restaurant was quiet and almost empty on a Monday night. The food was obviously homemade, and it was delicious. We'll definitely be going there again!

The next day, we went to Spr!nkles for the first time. Man, do they have some yummy cupcakes! Since we'd stuffed ourselves so much over K's trip, we decided to stay in for a healthier dinner that night. We marinated some chicken and cooked rice and broccoli. We used my pretty new dishes, and the flowers K had gotten me as an anniversary present made a nice little centerpiece as well (yes, I have a dining room table, but I hate it -- it was free -- and I hardly ever use it).
















































It was good to spend our last night to ourselves. Too quickly, it was Wednesday, and K was on his way back to Iraq.

The first two weeks (believe it or not, since it took me so long to get these posts up) d r a g g e d b y. After that, I was finally readjusted to the routine that had gotten me through the 9+ months of the deployment that had passed before R&R.

At least now we're just a week away from 11 months, and we're only a little over 3 months away from K being home for good. And if that time goes by as quickly as K's R&R, then he'll be home safe and sound before we know it.

I've kept you waiting long enough

So you know K got here on a Friday morning. For his first meal back home, we went out to lunch for a cheeseburger, where K enjoyed his first beer in 9 months. Then, he enjoyed his second beer. We stuffed ourselves with cheese fries and yummy cheeseburgers -- a nice, healthy first meal, but it was just what he wanted.

That night, I figured he might want to go out for Italian food for dinner, but he wasn't quite ready to share me with other people, so he wanted to order pizza and stay in. Not the healthiest first two meals back in the states, but they were nice.

The next few days, we relaxed and just enjoyed spending time together. K spent a lot of time spoiling Piper.






















We went to the gym a couple times and went running, we met up with a friend or two for dinner, and we went to several home stores to get ideas for our registry. His birthday was a few days before he arrived back home, so I took him to the spa where he'd gotten my gift certificate last Christmas. We got a couple's massage, and it was amazing! It was K's first professional massage. He loved it. (Duh!)

In the middle of the week, we headed to Pennsylvania to see K's family. His dad actually had a TV crew there to meet us when we arrived at the airport. They interviewed K and asked me a couple questions. Nothing like spending half a day traveling to find a camera being shoved in your face as soon as you land!

In addition to the TV crew, K's dad had quite a few of K's family and friends there to greet him. That was a really nice surprise. We all headed back to K's house, and his dad had sandwiches, buffalo wings and pizzas waiting for us -- in addition to Yuengl!ng, a really good lager that we always look forward to getting in PA (Yunegl!ng's breweries are in PA and Florida, and you can't get the beer in very many states).

It was neat to see so many of K's friends that first night. We drank beer, stuffed our faces and caught up on what everyone had been doing over the last year since K had last seen them. The next night, we went out to a bar with one of K's closest friends and my brother-in-law.

We went out with a larger group of friends to this interesting Co.yote Ugly-like bar that had just opened up. People could order a shot, and they were brought up onto the bar and taken to one end, where they were told to sit in a chair so the bartender of their choice would pour the shot into their mouth. Then, the person would have to stand up and brace themselves against the chair while the bartender actually beat the crap out of them with a belt. Definitely an interesting bar. (No, none of us did one of those shots.)

I didn't have to worry about driving, so I had plenty of lager and was ALL over that dance floor! I had a blast.





















































The next day, K, the same friend and I went to tour the Yuengl!ng brewery, since I'd never been before. It's America's oldest brewery. We got to go inside the caves where they stored the beer before refrigeration was invented. Even in the summer, it was actually really cool in the caves.





















































































That Friday night, I volunteered to be the DD. A big group of us went out to one really quiet bar, but we eventually found ourselves back at the Co.yote Ugly-like bar. Go figure, the place was even more fun that night. They had a lot more crazy things on a packed Friday night than they had the night before. They had silly string and balloons all over the place. Everyone in our group managed to drink quite a bit -- except for me. It was a fun night, but by the time everyone else was obnoxiously plastered, I was definitely glad to see it coming to an end.
















































































That Saturday, there was an event going on that was dedicated to K's cousin. K's dad had two more reporters there to interview him. Needless to say, he was getting a little annoyed by that point.

That afternoon, there was a surprise welcome home party for K at the rec hall of the private campground where he spent his summers (and then some) with his family growing up. It was K's dad who planned it, and it was him who wanted it to be a surprise. But it was K's dad who really sucks at keeping surprises and basically told K there would be a party. Still, though, K had no idea of the extent of it.

He'd gotten the party catered for 100 or 150 people, and there were kegs of K's two favorite beers. There was a projection screen set up so we avid college football fans could enjoy the party without worrying about missing our games.

Every once in a while, K sends me pictures of him or him and the guys together that I forward on to his family and our friends so they can see for themselves that he's doing OK and is still being his goofy self. Well, my FIL had taken all those pictures and had them blown up to probably 18x24 mini-posters. They were lining the walls of the room.

Also along the walls and ceiling were tons of red, white & blue decorations. FIL had gotten a couple beer banners (M!ller Light and Yuengl!ng, which are K's faves) made that said "Welcome home [K's rank, first name, middle initial, last name]." (I thought it was funny that it had all that info -- including the middle initial -- rather than just his first name or something.)

We were able to get several of K's friends Army friends to come in. Two were friends from K's previous base, and two were from Louisiana. All four have gotten out of the Army, and they happen to live within driving distance of PA. Two of the guys had deployed and come home since we had seen them. We hadn't seen one of the guys since Thanksgiving of 2005. And one of the couples had become parents since we'd last seen them. All that definitely made for a pretty neat reunion.

The whole thing was pretty spectacular, and K was overwhelmed by the level of the surprise. What's funny is K and I hadn't seen a lot of the people there since early in the summer of 2007, which is just before we knew we were going to have to plan the quick September wedding before K deployed. Many people congratulated us but immediately said, "You didn't tell us you were getting married!" Each time, we explained that it was because we didn't know.

We were surprised to see people keep handing K cards. Some were "Welcome home" cards (they really do have cards for everything), but most of them were wedding cards. People kept saying to us, "This is like your wedding reception!" K and I exchanged confused glances and kept telling people how that's coming later, but card after card after card was given to us.

K and I kept trying to make it over to the food line so we could eat, but we kept getting stopped by different people who wanted to hug us, congratulate us and catch up with us. It really did wind up feeling like a wedding reception! Everyone else had finished dessert before we were finally able even to fix our dinner plates -- only to get briefly interrupted again.

It was fun, though, and it was great to see so many people. There was lots of drinking that night, so it was good none of us had to drive anywhere.


































































The next day, we spent a little more time with everyone before they had to head home. We hung out at the campground and rode jet skis for a bit, and then we headed back to K's house.

















We spent the rest of our time in PA relaxing and visiting with a few more people. What's funny is we're always both very ready to come home when it's time to leave PA. K's dad is a sweetheart, but he's just so ... old. He's barely older than my grandparents, but I never realized how "with it" they still are. Sure, they forget things from time to time like anyone, but with K's dad, it's a completely different story.

We spent our last day just trying to have a good sense of humor about all of it. We laughed about K's dad's insistence on constantly feeding us (It's K's mom's family who is Italian, but his dad definitely fits in well on that part). He has this habit of naming off almost everything in the refrigerator to try to find something for us to eat:

"Want some shrimp?"

"No thanks, I'm still full from lunch."

"Do you like tomatoes? I just bought some fresh ones the other day."

"No, I don't like them."

"You don't like tomatoes? Do you think K will want some?"

"Probably not. He doesn't like them either." (We'd just told him that the day before.) "Thanks, though."

"How about olives? You want some olives?"

"No thanks, really. I'm still full."

"OK. Are you sure?"

GAH!

It was definitely good to get back to Dallas and have some time to rest and be alone -- for just a few hours.

So that's the first 10 days of R&R. I'll post about the rest soon. We managed to cram even more into those last 10 than we did into the first 10.

No wonder it went so fast.

Slowly getting back to the grind

A girl can really get behind on things when she disconnects herself from the rest of the world for 20 days. It's amazing what you can do in that length of time, though:

• Visit in-laws in another part of the country
• Go to the movies twice
  
• Eat Italian food many times (each at a different place, even!)
  
• Eat steak a couple times
• Get Pac!ugo ... twice (mmm!)
• Spend three and a half hours working on a wedding registry ... only to realize you've done just the kitchen and dining room (and you're not even finished with the appliances)
  
• Go on a hot air balloon ride
• Eat two whole (well, actually, it was four halves) Spr.inkles cupcakes in one 24-hour period
  
• Visit family in OK
• Tour America's oldest brewery
• Ride a jet ski
• Meet with your wedding photographer
• Meet with your reception coordinator
• Interview two DJs
• Visit an electronics superstore (HAD to get that in!)
• Have an awesome night at the piano bar with fun friends
  

And those are just the things I can think of off the top of my head. It's amazing to think of everything we crammed into the 20 days K was home. We had two big milestones, though:

1. We broke our record of consecutive days spent together. Before, we had hit 11 days on two separate occasions (once in 2005; once in 2006). This time, we made it all the way to 20 days.
   
2. We celebrated our first wedding anniversary. In our entire marriage, we have been on the same continent only 2 months and 25 days -- and those weren't even spent in the same city for a lot of that time. It's definitely not quite how I pictured married life would be when I was little!

Anyway, so obviously 20 days of time off with your husband can leave you with lots of stories and quite a few pictures to share. But it also leaves me with lots of things to catch up on. I've spent my weekday mornings getting up at 5 a.m. so I can be at the gym by 5:30 to whip my butt back into shape after nonstop eating and drinking and very little working out for 20 days straight.

I'm hoping I can give you more details and pictures from R&R tomorrow night. For now, I've got to get to sleep. 5:00 a.m. will be here before I know it ...

An ironic relationship for a girl who doesn't do math

K is gone again. I can't believe how quick his R&R went -- and we even managed to get two more days together than we were supposed to. We had an awesome time, and we did quite a few cool things. We even managed to relax a little.

I'll blog about everything we did over the next few days. I've got pictures to load first, and frankly, I'm too exhausted to do it right now.

I had wondered how today would go with K leaving again. The day he left to begin the deployment was really tough. I didn't know if today would be the same.

The day K got here for his R&R, he told me, "I don't have to be back until noon on the 24th. And that's the last I want to hear of that date until it gets here." It was fine with me, so aside from mentioning the date when other people asked when K had to go back, we didn't talk about it.

Not that it snuck up on us. I started counting down in my head on Sunday night. I didn't ever say anything about it, but I know K was doing the same. Considering our relationship has been pretty much a constant string of countdowns (Five days until we get to see each other, Three hours until he has to start his drive home, Three more weeks until he's out of the field ...), we're both very used to and very aware of the little internal calendars.

Neither of us wanted to get out of bed this morning. I hit the snooze button every 10 minutes for at least an hour and a half this morning before we reluctantly got out of bed. Every once in a while during the snooze time, K or I would sit up, rub our eyes and prepare to get out of bed, only to decide the idea thoroughly sucked and plop back down onto the pillow. I think we knew it was our last morning together for a while, and neither of us was eager for it to end.

We had gotten used to sharing my little one-bedroom apartment over the last 20 days, so we went about each of our little routines to get ready for the day. When we were both ready to go, it was time to head to the airport. It was when we were walking out to my car that I felt myself tearing up for the first time. I put on my sunglasses and moved my bangs to the other side of my face to shield the tears from K. It wasn't very long before he figured it out. He started talking about something to take my mind off of it, and I was tear-free just a few minutes into the drive.

We got to the airport about 15 minutes before K had to be there. We headed to the gate K had been instructed to report to, and I was given a paper that would allow me to go through security with him. We ate lunch together and hung out with another friend who'd had the same R&R schedule as K. We were able to spend another three hours together at the airport.

A little after 3, the soldiers started boarding their flight. K and I hugged and said goodbye. I managed to surprise myself by not crying. As I watched K walk onto the plane, I was thankful I didn't have anyone around to talk to. I had a pretty large lump in my throat, but as long as I could stay quiet, I knew it would stay put and my eyes would stay mostly dry.

The day K had arrived, the volunteers at the US.O told me that on the day he leaves, I should stick around until the plane takes off just in case it was delayed. So I stayed and watched more soldiers load the plane. After a couple minutes of that, I turned to see how many were left to board. It was clear they were all boarding, so I decided to just rip off the Band-Aid and head out.

As I walked through the terminal to head back to my car, I could feel my eyes tearing up again. I picked up my pace, skirted through a baggage claim area, threw on my sunglasses and stepped outside right as my eyes spilled over. I only cried for a minute or two, and I was fine after that.

It was much easier today than it was 10 months ago this Saturday. At least this time, I know I have less than five months to go before K is back for real. That's a countdown that's much easier to handle -- especially when you consider we've got twice that under our belts already.

And the cool thing about this new five-month countdown is that it's almost a countdown to end the countdowns. When this countdown ends, we'll have three months to go before our Dallas wedding. After that exciting event, K and I will be sent to his next base.

The base where we'll get to make our first home together.

And we only have three more countdowns to go!

Maybe I should become a detective

I did quite a bit of detective work this morning (including a phone call to Amer!can A!rlines, where I wound up crying before I finished explaining my dilemma!) to figure out which flight K was on, but I did it.

I was able to get to the gate in plenty of time. In fact, I was an hour early. But better an hour early than even five minutes late!

K's flight arrived at 9 a.m., and he was on a plane full of soldiers headed home for their mid-tour leave. They got a nice welcome from the Dallas Fire Department, which had trucks on either side of the runway dousing the plane as it taxied the runway. K said it was really neat.

The U.SO and Lock.heed Mart!n had groups of people there to welcome the soldiers. It was wonderful of them to do that!

Soon after 9 a.m., they lined all of the families up on either sides of the doorway the soldiers would be coming through. As soon as the war veteran volunteer who was standing in the doorway caught sight of the first person in uniform, he cued someone to turn on patriotic music on a stereo nearby.

Two soldiers came through the door, which instantly brought tears to everyone's eyes. We clapped for them, and they shook the hands of the volunteers, who were holding up signs and waving flags.

















There was a bit of a lull before more soldiers came by. After a few minutes, I caught a glimpse of K coming toward the door.

I had wondered many times if I would cry when I saw him. But the moment I saw him, with the emotion of the music and having so many volunteers there -- not to mention my excitement over seeing my husband for the first time in nine months -- my eyes flooded and spilled over. He had the same reaction. (Honestly, I don't think anyone left there with a dry eye!)

We hugged for the longest time, and then a volunteer offered to take a picture of us. We kissed quickly after the photo, and a few female volunteers ran up and said, "Kiss her again!"






































It's wonderful to have him here again. I didn't know what it would be like for the first day or so (it took about half a day for things to feel normal again when he returned from Afghanistan), but it really feels like he never left, which is amazing.

Now, if you don't mind, I'll leave you with these pictures for a day or two. I'm gonna go spend time with my hubby!

(By the way, Piper TOTALLY remembered K! She was really excited to see him and has been lying by him and enjoying playing with him all day!)