The Truth

Here's the thing:

I stated recently in a post that that particular post would be the last one I would post on the subject of Chris' deployment.

Y'all. I can't do it.

I try to keep this space here light and happy, which we are, the vast majority of the time.

But I have to tell you, it's HARD to keep up this facade of everything being great, and pretending that our life is the same.

It's not. Nowhere near even close.

And really, I need the outlet.

So, I will be posting the not so happy bits and pieces here too.

Starting now.


The past few weeks have been extremely difficult. As we were preparing for Chris to leave, I was preparing myself to deal with two weeks of hell immediately after C left, mistakenly thinking that would be the time period in which Jack would be adjusting to the absence of his father.

Boy, was I wrong. The first two months passed like nothing was different. Then, right around the two month mark (about 2 weeks ago), it hit him, finally, that daddy wasn't around, and hadn't been for a while.

Since that point, my anxiety has been through the roof. I have broken down into a tearful fit no less than 4 times in the last three weeks, questioning my skills as a parent, as an employee, as a housekeeper, as a sister, as a daughter, pretty much everything under the sun.

I have let my son get away with everything imaginable, at the risk of him becoming a small terror, and am now having to instill some serious discipline around here to make up for it.

I have become greatly agitated at having to listen to the word "mama" fourteen million times an hour, only to feel guilty moments later because I wanted so badly for someone to call me mama.

I have spatted an ill-behaving little boy on the bottom, only to break down in tears seconds later over the fact that I resorted to corporal punishment, and then subsequently burst into tears when telling both my mom and my husband what I had done.

I have had a fabulous 4 day vacation with our best friends (which I will be posting about soon!), only to arrive home from dropping them at the airport and spend the rest of the day completely depressed about them being gone, and the fact that we don't get together often enough, rather than being delighted at the time we had.

I walk through my front door every single day, look around, and have tears well up in my eyes because it's empty in here.

I cooked dinner on Sunday, for the first time in weeks. It's pathetic. But I can't stand cooking for one, and all of the sudden, Jack's decided he's picky.

Really, it's everything. Our whole life is depressing me right now.

I want to be able to crawl into my husband's arms and just be held and hugged by him, because he is always the one who makes it all go away. Do you know that his arms aren't long enough to reach from the Middle East?

We are inching ever closer to the holidays, and I'm not gonna lie, that fact isn't helping matters.

Also not helping matters (as completely backwards as this will sound) is the fact that he comes home on leave in about 7 weeks, and the fact that I will have to watch him leave AGAIN practically kills me.

And that's the truth.