Type A’s Don’t Like Deployment

I’m a planner.
I like to know where I’m going and when and for how long I’ll be gone and what I’ll do while I’m there.
I like to plan a weekly menu so I know what we’re eating each night and can make sure we have all the groceries we will need for those meals.
I lay my kids’ clothes out the night before so we’re ready for the morning and I make Monkey’s school lunch the night before. 
I have two calendars – one on my phone and one on my wall. I reference each one daily to make sure I haven’t missed anything.
I start buying Christmas gifts in August.
We found out the sex of both of our kids at 18/20 weeks so I could get ready for our boys.


So being a military wife can be pretty damned hard. Deployments that don’t happen that you braced yourself for. Courses that pop up suddenly. Schedules that change. Postings that are coming up in a matter of months and having zero clue about where in this country you may be moving in just 10 short months. Other deployments that DON’T EVER END because everything is up in the air all. Of. The. Time.

What’s App conversations between Hubby and I go like this:

Me: Hi! How are you! (Trying desperately to ask about his day before launching straight into the Spanish Inquisition about predicted return dates).
Hubby: Good! (Tells me about his day and asks me about mine)

A few minutes later…
Me: So…any news yet?
Hubby: Nothing new today/ I’m just waiting on some information / We’re just waiting to hear back about “xyz”
This response from Hubby almost always elicits a really snarky and sarcastic response from me where I swear and hate on the military and dramatically suggest that he won’t ever come home. Then I get really bummed and our conversation comes to a standstill and then Hubby feels really guilty which makes me feel guilty because I know he wants to come just as much (if not more) than I want him to come home.

I do love cake. But I love Hubby more.

But seriously. This one was supposed to be 6-8 weeks and it is SO NOT 6-8 WEEKS. Jellybean’s birthday is this coming weekend and it was never a question that Hubby would be here for it. But you guys, he won’t be here. And I know that Jellybean is turning 2 and he won’t mind and as long as there’s cake and presents it will be good from his standpoint. But me? Not so good. Because it’s not about cake and presents for me (although I do love cake). It’s about thinking back to 2 years ago on the day our family became complete. That day where the doctors in Smalltown provided me with what I would actually call an enjoyable c-section experience and Hubby held my hand and stared into my eyes when I was nervous before they made the incision. And seeing the tears in Hubby’s eyes when Jellybean made his first little noise. And having him support me as I breastfed Jellybean just minutes after he was born. And remembering the joy on all our face’s when we introduced Monkey to his baby brother for the very first  time. It’s about thinking about how seeing Hubby become first a Daddy then a Daddy of two made me love him more than I ever thought I could. It’s about how happy Hubby truly was and is each time Jellybean reached his next milestone. And while we will have the blessings of both sets of our parents here this weekend, it’s about missing my life partner while we celebrate all of this. I will need to make it as fun as possible for Jellybean while trying not to think too, too hard about the fact that Hubby should just f*cking BE HERE to celebrate this and he won’t be. 

With any luck he will be home just a few days later but it won’t be quite the same. October 2 will have passed.

I understand that this is considered a short deployment. It isn’t the fact that it’s short or long but the frustration of not knowing when he is coming home. Of missing something he was supposed to be home well before. It’s about knowing that this won’t be the only time we will be in this boat. 

The planner in me doesn’t do well with this. I am not a spontaneous person when it comes to the big stuff. The wife in me doesn’t do well with being without my partner and the mother in me is getting really tired of trying to keep it all together.

Civilian friends and acquaintances have often said to me, “You’re a military wife? I don’t know how you do it!” to which my response is, “Sometimes not that well”. This is one of those times.

This, too, shall pass. I know that. But today that doesn’t make this whole thing any easier.

What time can I open the wine?

Take care,

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