He flew out (or drove out...I honestly don't know) on New Year's Eve. I can't think of a better way to start the new year.
Except maybe with him actually by my side. But he's on his way and that's what's important. I know how lucky I am that this deployment only stretched through summer and fall and into a bit of winter. It could have been much longer.
He is currently sitting in some "safe" Middle Eastern country being
For my part, well...I hate to admit it, but I should. I am actually more stressed now than I have been this entire deployment. I know that those wives still waiting for their husbands to come home are ready to drop kick me for saying that, but it is the truth.
Every time he goes away, I try to look at it as an opportunity to focus on some of my own goals. But more than six months has passed and I haven't done jack shit.
I didn't lose weight. I gained it.
I didn't run a race. I'm farther away from being a runner than ever before.
I didn't write a book. My writing is crap. Writer's block was worse than ever.
I have to give myself credit. I got all three of us through these months relatively unscathed. Both kids are excelling at school, and they never missed a day. We're all happy and healthy, if not a little more insulated.
And I really did accomplish a lot, even if I have little to show for it.
I drove the kids and the dog to Cape Cod for a summer vacation.
I spent another Pride in NYC and volunteered at another Pier Dance.
I had the boys up to Cape Cod and Provincetown for some fun.
I threw my daughter a birthday party.
I watched the kids run the Race for Central Park.
I stumbled into local celebrity and a meager pay check writing my "Other Blog"
I developed a massive crush on David Bromstad.
I survived the kids playing violin solos for our program orientation.
I bought a new camera and fulfilled my promise to take lots more pictures.
I served on the Board of Trustees for the kids' school.
I "came out" to my local friends as a fag hag. Not here, but not long after.
I had Patrick down for his second visit to the bayou. I outed him, worked a fund raiser, and went to a gay bar.
I survived Parent/Teacher conferences. Quite well, in fact.
I successfully chaired a luncheon at school.
I sent my daughter to a Hannah Montana concert.
I took the kids to New York City for Thanksgiving with Uncle Patrick and MAK and K.
I watched the kids run the Race to Deliver and raise money for God's Love We Deliver.
I fixed my husband's truck all by myself!
I attended a School Board retreat and nailed down the most donations in our annual fund phone-a-thon.
I got to see my kids each graduate to the next level in violin and perform Christmas concerts.
I got the kids back in swimming class and saw Mr. Nathan again.
I threw my son a birthday party.
I took the kids on the Polar Express.
And I managed Christmas for just the three of us.
Add in a season of soccer for both kids, countless violin lessons, mounds of homework and daily discipline and it is quite a lot.
I guess the lesson to be learned here is that I need to adjust my expectations.
I'm also worried about my husband adjusting to home life. And I'm worried about the kids and I adjusting to having him around again. The kids have grown up so much since he left.
And I'm obsessing about our possible move and getting the kids into a new school. School admissions is just about the only thing I have on my mind right now and it is keeping me up all night.
So, I started to write this post just to say, "Yay! My husband's coming home. Bring on 2008!" but it morphed away from that.
But that's okay. Because at its heart, and in my heart, the most important thing is...
My husband's on his way home. Yay! 2008 is going to be a great year.