Behind The Life of The Wife of A Soldier

Army Wife.

I am alone more times than I am with him. I love my soldier. I love everything that my husband has done for myself, my family and this country. However, I don't love the toll being a solider has taken on him. When I met Kevin we were both young, and the whole military life was brand new for both of us. It was easy to shrug off coming home late, or having to be gone over night for duty. I supported him without a single doubt in my mind about committing to his choice to be in the military until he retired.

I was ready for his deployment and rolled my eyes at anyone that wanted sympathy because I was ready. The deployment hit and I took it by the horns and rode it out a full year and was ready to carry on as a family until the next deployment hit. But the soldier I welcomed home, wasnt the hilarious, goofy, stay up all night to talk to me and cuddle soldier. He was angry. He was distant. He was frustrated. He was vulnerable. He had been "affected" by the war. We went to therapy. He promised to change. But I never was sure what I wanted him to change into?

When he left I became very independent, very capable of taking care of myself and our son. I figured out how to get things done without any help, because I didnt have any friends. I didn't mind going through the days and weeks only talking to the baby because I was so sure when my husband came home we would spend days talking and just relishing our moments together. But when he came home...he could have still been in Afghanistan. The distance still remained. I was different. He was different. Our family was now He. I. Baby. Now we all had to adjust to everything. It was hard.

We spent time fighting. Not talking. Avoiding each other. Smiling through the uncertainty. If you ask me, we both knew we were further apart than if we were complete strangers sharing a bed. I would stay awake and watch him scream and call out and want to hug him and tell him he was home, but he was still in Afghanistan.

Now that we have had time to readjust he has just been told he is resetting to deploy. The distance has made its way in again. We both pull away so that the good-bye won't be as hard. I dislike knowing that for a year I will be a single parent. But what can we do? Sometimes I forget that when he leaves he is alone too. He has no wife. He has no son. He has no one. He is alone.

I do not understand why everyone believes that the military is such a great life but it is not. It breeds broken homes, and distant families.

I know so many families in this life, but they look so distant. The wives carry the weight of the world on their shoulders so as not to burden their soldier who is carrying his duty as well as his love, and longing to be with his family. What kind of tragic epic is this? Not one for me.

Some women love and live through their mate because this life is all they have. They do not work. They have children. They just have the stories their mate has told them. My mate has told me some. He has kept in alot. We don't talk about the war. I know it was bad, because several times his unit made the world news and I could share stories about where he was and what he was doing when he called.

He has denied he has PTSD, but I live with him. I know when he has anxiety attacks because I see his mood and body change. I know the stress he feels. I know because I am his wife. I am his other half. I hurt like he hurts. I cry for him. I pray for him. We don't often fight. But when we do, I see the frustration, because he cannot do everything I am asking even though he wants to. His job takes up his day and when he has eaten dinner he sleeps to reset for the next day. So I am not enjoying having a husband and his is not enjoying having a wife.

Our weekends are our honeymoons and usually we start the separation on Sunday. We start to separate to prepare for the week ahead where we sit down eat dinner and briefly talk about our day and he falls asleep. We have text convos all the time....but what kind of long distance-in house relationship is this? We have everything we want, but dont get to enjoy any of it. It is so devastating. Its like having a million dollars but your account is frozen. When do we get to enjoy each other? When do we get to be a normal family? That doesnt have to make plans to just be together. Its frustrating. I am ready to be a normal family.

I want a normal life. I am not unhappy with my husband, I love him with all that I have. But the strain of being in this life is taking its toll. I love my husband. He loves me. And what we both would love is some TIME together. It is terrible because we need more time, and thats exactly what we don't have enough of. What an amazing life.

Love you sweetheart.

Random

I don't know what I am aiming to write about today. I don't have a particular focus but I have a cloud in my head and I want to swat it away but I cannot for the life of me get a clear focus of what the heck I'm even trying to say. I just want to go back. Backwards to a more simple time in my life and have a clear focus on what I'm doing. Have sense of pride in myself and what I'm doing. Have an understanding that I'm okay. Assure myself that life is rough but I cannot allow myself to dwell in the sorrow. I wish my future self could tell my present and past self these things. I am allow life to pass me by. I am allowing me, to prevent myself from being happy. I wish there was a button that could erase everything. I don't know if I will ever be in that place. I want to be but there is so much within me that is tearing me apart, and all it is...is me. I want to be better. Do better. FEEL better...but its like I'm so apprehensive. I am so afraid. I want to do better things within myself. I want to reach higher plateaus but its like I'm stopping myself. I know that I am capable of better things and I know I am able to do better, but its like I cannot get there. This is a random outlet but it makes my brain feel better. Sometimes I feel as if my brain and my mind block me from whatever it is that I'm doing. I want to be a better person. I want to be a better wife. I want to be a better mother. I have to be. I don't want to mess up all that I have in this world.

The Married Life...

When I was single...boy was I single...I had some interesting times. Some would call those times "fun" I can only classify them as "interesting"...because there were sometimes that were just down right awful. I had my favorite girls I loved to go "kick-it" with and I had my favorite places to go. Typically these girls were down with staying till after the club closed and were also not into "c--k blocking" so I always knew I was in for "good times" when I was with my girls. When I was single I loved being single and admired the cast from Sex In The City for being so liberal slutty and yet somehow classy and fashionable at the same time. I wanted my drunken partying to last forever, but then I started losing grasp of reality and control over day and night, which is why its not good to party until closing every night. Because then you need to go to after hours bars and then you stop wanting the party to end, and keep the party going by drinking constantly. I was always in an alternate state of mind, if my day if work was going rough I would go to the liquor store and fill up the largest cup I could and drink all day at the job. I was a mess. I kept trying to attach myself to people and to things to find my place...a place where I was the center of the universe. The place where I was important, wanted, needed and loved. I just wanted to be loved. I remember chasing after affection of men, hoping that someone would find me valuable enough to love. Every night I would go to sleep and wake up uncertain of where to go and what to do. Where would I lay my head next...I just felt like I was always running from life. Like I was killing myself with clubs and alcohol just to fit in somewhere. As a result of my running I ended up running to the Army and through a miracle in and of itself I met my husband. Who was a jerk at first to me by the way. Press the fast forward button and here we are a couple years into this relationship, this marriage, this partnership and where are we? Still in love. We have finally reached the point where we actually fight. Like take the gloves off and hit below the belt fight. Is this a good thing? Of course not,but because of the fighting it does make for a great make up session. When we are fighting we usually say what we mean....as mean as it can be and it serves to keep us honest when we have cooled down. I makes us check ourselves, it reminds us to love each other better and work a little harder on really loving one another. It makes us grow up...it makes us mature. Sometimes we have bad days, we are learning to balance that against frustration and selfishness. We are learning to make each other a priority and not just focus on ourselves our own wants our own needs. We are almost out of this phase of marriage and into the next phase. We are the typical married couple. We have a kid. We watch tv in bed. We have our favorite foods that are different. We are married. Its a simple life. We don't go out, we chill out we rarely drink, your average married squares....but I couldn't be happier because each night when I lay down my head I know who I am waking up with and I know he still loves me. I know when he tells me I'm beautiful he means it. I love this life. I do not grow tired of it. I enjoy every moment of it. I look forward to the next 2 years, 22, and then some.....

The Terrible Two's

The terrible two's is the time at which a toddler reaches the point where they are too small for their voice to be heard, and too big to coddle like a child. The child is at a point where they want independence, but still need to be loved on like the baby they are. This is the point when the child wants to be a "big kid" but this very same kid may pee and poop in a diaper. This big kid wants to sleep in his own bed, but will scream for MOMMY in the middle of the night. This is such a big time for a kiddo and the same time its the point that you as a mom want to step into oncoming traffic. When do you get that "break" its like we were promised that when kids hit 2 they would automatically get "better"...and by better I assumed "easier" that wasn't the case. For me its gotten harder to juggle the schedule that never seems as tight as other mom's make their life out to be. Sometimes my son naps most times he doesn't. I qualify "sleeping through the night" as a 4 hour block. I still always feel like I have a hang over. I should wear a scarlet F for "F---up" because my kid still hasn't graduated from my bed...its like its one big mess upon mess. All the mommy NO-NO's I wasn't supposed to do I have done...and I feel ashamed about them. My son is 21 months and he still breastfeeds and I just don't know how to make him stop. I feel more lost at this point in his life then I did when he was 21 days old. Back in the good old days of him being an infant I would go down the list diaper, gas, milk, sleep. One of those things is always the "answer" to what was wrong. Now its a plethora of possibilities and I can't ever seem to put my finger on the exact thing. Some days my son and I are in perfect harmony. In such sync that its like we are using the same brain to think. Other days I feel like I have adopted a child that I know nothing about. I always thought that life would be easier the older he got. Now its gotten more complex. He has fits, he hits, he kicks, he refuses to eat, he "runs" me. So if this isn't terrible twos I am deathly afraid of what is. Its like I knew what I was getting into and its worse than I ever thought. Mostly I blame myself as is a mother's life...I mean what else is there for me to do? I was told that mothers teach their children how to behave, and I have taught him these patterns, and want so desperately to have a British firm but fair nanny to come in my house and fix all of this in a week. I know I have no such luck. I don't have a happy ending to this blog, this is just me throwing it out there. I expect to be judged. I expect other mothers to give their cocky answers to how they have done and will do a better job and how I'm the worst mother in the world....and I'll take it, I probably am. I love my kiddo. He is my first born. I am 25. He is 2. He is my everything. I can't stand to see him cry, even though I know he "puts on" the water works for me, I still refuse to allow him to "cry it out"....when I am upset I need to be consoled. So does he. One of these days together we will find the perfect schedule but for now we are playing it by ear. It can't be easy to grow up, because everything is always changing. One day it will get better...or at least I hope it can....but for now we are preparing for the "worst"....and that is the early onset of terrible twos...

Domestic Engineer

I have held many jobs, and the job that is the most challenging is that of the Domestic Engineer...as I'm typing I have a 21month old pressing buttons and screaming every time I scold him to stop. The job of the SAHM (Stay At Home Mom) never quite ends. Monday through Sunday I am required to maintain an optimistic outlook on my job, but realistically its really easy to get burned out. I have to ensure that my little on stays happy, healthy and clean. Three things that are a careful juggling act. Keeping him happy differs everyday, sometimes he wants to sit calmly and snuggle with me, (those are glory days), other days he wants to play outside ALL day and then there are some days when he just wants to DESTROY. I never really know what I am doing, I find its easiest to make it up as I go. I am always unsure if I'm doing the "right" thing and hope to God that all the sleepless nights, all the hard work and frustration pays off. But I never can be too sure. I look at the perfect example laid by my mother who had eight children, kept a clean house, and always had a smile on her face, she is like that creepy Stepford robot that most women hate. Thats the standard that I wish I could live up to, and know I never really will live up to for me as long as I keep my son's pulse consistent I feel like I am doing big things. I am uncertain if there is a specific definition of a Domestic Engineer...every woman has a different way in which they keep their house afloat and whatever it is kudos to you. I dont believe in criticizing someones method, because it works. I love the creativity that women have in dealing with children. Whether its making them wear diapers backwards, or inverting their shoes so they put their shoes on the "right" feet or rewarding them for not peeing in their pants, if it work kudos to you! I just wish there was more support, everyone is still figuring this parenting out. However you choose to do it. Good for you. I'm proud of you. Maybe one day our kids will appreciate and be proud of the hard work we've done.

Noah Held Mommy's Hand

Noah. My son. Super Guy. Super Dud. Stinky Guy. Pajama Party Time Jumpin' Around. Little Friend. My Bestin' Friend. Noah. He has many names all of which he answers to. Some of which make him smile that gap toothed smile I love to see. All are different. All are names he knows and responds to.

Autistic. ADD. ADHD. Downs Syndrome.
Noah?
Mr. Sensory Integrative Dysfunction.
Where does Noah fit within this spectrum. Is he disabled? Uniquely-abled? Special needs? Ability Compromised? Lets go with High Needs. Where does Noah fit in this equation with other high needs children. Well, he doesn't. Well, sort of. Okay, maybe not now, but in ten years he will be under this umbrella too. Ten years waiting on someONE to do an empirical study on children and sensory processing. GREAT. I won't hold my breath. Its so new its weird to many. I even thought so at first, but when I pushed aside my comfort zone and embraced truth for what it is and not my preconceptions of what every toddler should be doing developmentally. THAT is when I was able to accept. Noah just isn't where he needs to be.

Hmm...He is not disabled. So what the heck is he? LABEL TIME! OH NO!!! Let's assess this situation. He is different. He does not like crowded rooms full of people in new places where he isn't allowed to move away. He does not like trying new foods or touching anything (besides mud) that is sticky or wet. He does not eat anything that is wet. He has always hated riding in his carseat. He STILL breastfeeds. He cannot sleep through the night. He screams when my husband or myself leave a room. He wasn't able to use words. He could not sit in his highchair for more than a few minutes. He doesn't like change. He doesn't like strangers, being touched or touching things. He doesn't hold hands, hasn't held mine. He does not like hugs giving or receiving. He doesn't like people in his face. He doesn't like when people are unreasonably loud because he wants to be the loudest thing in the room.

Noah loves to move, stack, to climb, to jump, explore, to dance, to play, to laugh, to sing, to look at books, to GO, to just be outside. He could stay outside digging in dirt, smelling flowers-folliage eating rocks-chunks of dirt-crunchy leaves all day and night. Just about anything his baby hands can reach outside he will touch regardless of texture or apprehension. Noah is almost your typical boy. He is wild he loves to run and play with cars, and get dirty outside. He collects things, mostly rocks, he loves rocks, probably as much as he loves Kevin and I.

Noah is unique. He isn't the kind of baby that demands attention in all he does but you will find yourself observing every new thing he learns and does. At 3 months Noah said Mama and Dadda...at eight months Noah could walk. At nine months Noah got bronchitis and ear infections and suddenly lost all his words. I was afraid. I was embarrassed. My brilliant boy that could do so much...was mute for lack of better words. I hid my shame from my friends and family and passed him off as being shy, knowing all the while that things just were not right.

Turns out that my baby has a delay. *GASP* Yes, he has a delay, but guess what we are taking things one step at a time through innovative therapeutic treatments. In a few years we will have forgotten about all the therapy Noah gets to catch him up with everyone else. In a few years I won't remember Ms. Stephanie or any of his other therapists that have changed our lives. Thanks to his Speech Therapist, Feeding Therapist and Occupational Therapist, Noah also known for a while as No-Words, NOW has WORDS. My son has words! He has a voice, an opinion, an is swift to express his feelings by communicating with me.

NO! he says, and my heart melts. Yeah! He says. Tuh-tul he says pushing his turtle in the tub. GO! GO! GO! He says when he runs. His silly little feet going as fast as his tiny legs will carry him. He uses sign language, he picked it up so fast we know more-stop-help-all done-baby-mommy-daddy-cereal-bubble-go-stop-please and MANY more. I am so blessed to see a change. I was ashamed of him not being able to speak. I felt it was my fault and failure as a mother. I couldn't let go of the fact that I had done something wrong. That somehow I messed up. It was my fault he was different. So many times as a mother we allow our guilt and pride stand in the way of the developmental achievements of our little ones. Was it important that Noah beat the other kids speaking, for me, at first, yes. Now, I just want to know my baby can understand and express his feelings to me. That's what is important. Not the game us mothers play, "Oh well, MY baby can jump over the moon" is that really important, if your baby is mute?

Noah is special and I am so proud. In just a month he has changed so much. Today we went outside on an evening walk and for the first time he reached out and held mommy's hand. One whole year of his life I have never had that pleasure and it literally took my breath away. Just recently he has begun giving me kisses, and announces, MWAH! I hold in the tears. He calls my name "MOMMY" asks for HELP and signs THANK YOU...and that means so much. We will slowly work on creative fixes for not touching or being touched. We will improve on not eating, and avoiding sticky things. But my baby is finally back on track. Today he shared with me without retracting his hand before it touched mine. He was able to play a rock in my hand that he had found smile and carry on with his play. To some they are still stuck on the delay *GASP*...but what I am stuck on is that my baby for the first time, reached out and held his Mommy's hand.