Wants, needs, and The Stones.

Once again, the Marine Corps has reminded me that "you can't always get what you want". (Or was that The Rolling Stones? Either way, they were right.) We found out today we're not going where we thought we would be going next and our future is pretty uncertain. Not that it was ever certain because, really, in the military, when is it ever? It just seems less certain than it did yesterday. But, to keep myself from being too dramatic, I don't actually know that where we thought we would be going would be the very best thing ever. It was just nice to have an idea of what was next and now that the idea is gone, I'm a little apprehensive. It's the fear of the unknown. (You know?)

I'm sure that wherever we go next WILL be the best thing ever. (Hello, my name is Sally Sunshine and I'm always positive!) I certainly didn't want to live in Southern California, but I've grown to love it. (Honestly. It's 80 degrees the week before Thanksgiving. LOVE.) Which also reminds me that I have a lot to be thankful for, no matter where we live. I'm thankful for friends who make me feel like family, a family who I'm happy to call friends, and a God who is overseeing my future. (I may not know what's next, but HE does. And that makes it okay.)

You know what else I'm thankful for?

  That no matter where I go, I still have him.

And that makes it better than okay.

Let's not forget the rest of the song because Mick really said it best..."You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need."

Happy Birthday, Marine Corps. 

You may not always give me what I want,

but you give me a man who looks good in uniform.

And who doesn't need that?

(Now please don't send us to Japan.)

I get the joy of rediscovering you.*

I've been getting a lot of grief lately from friends and family for not updating my blog. "People probably think the husband is still deployed," I've been scolded more than once. So, for those of you who don't know, HE'S HOME! HE'S HOME! HE'S HOME!

Can you feel the excitement?

We've been having a pretty great month of getting reacquainted. A month that has included a trip to Maui with our families, eating out a lot, going to the movies, and just remembering what it's like to be a couple. Our precious kitty is super excited to have him home again, too. This month also now includes going back to work and starting our "new old normal". (Complete with work trips for him that start off as "I'll only be gone for one night" and then turns to "Well, now it's two..." That's cool, Marine Corps. The husband and I were SO ready to spend some time apart anyway.) The "new old normal" which includes working all day, washing dishes, doing laundry, and fighting over the remote. Ahhh, domesticity!

Getting lei'd in Maui. 

(Classic joke.)

Mateo can't take his eyes off him.

Everyone asks me what's it like to have him back home. Is it weird? Do you still feel like you know each other? Is he different? Is your relationship different? Honestly, it feels like it always did. I feel so lucky to be with someone who still makes me laugh, still gives me hugs, and still listens to my crazy stories. Being apart didn't change that. We dated for so (soooo) long before he (finally!) proposed. Those years (and years) of being together when we didn't have to be (aka dating) made our relationship all the stronger. He had no choice but to deploy and I had no choice but to say goodbye. After eleven years together, I felt strength in the knowledge that he would come back to me and we would continue to be happy. His one year deployment was just a minor blip on our relationship radar. I would never hope for another deployment, but I'm not naive enough to think another won't happen. Anything is possible in this military life. Right now, I'm just thankful he's home.

So VERY thankful.  

*I've said it before and I'll say it again: I heart that song. 

BIG NEWS.

Wait for it...Are you ready?...My husband (you know, that guy who has been deployed for almost a year) is coming home. I mean, we knew that. There was never a doubt in our minds. (Right? Right.) But the big addition to that news? He's coming home NEXT WEEK. Ooo, that was good. Let's do it again...NEXT WEEK. (I could tell you when and where, but then I'd have to kill you. Or something like that.) When he left, I honestly thought it would be the worst year of my life. Granted, it was certainly not the best ever, but it was so much easier (and funner! ...more fun?) than I thought it would be. (Thank you, sweet Jesus!) I cannot even begin to thank my family and friends and coworkers and Facebook friends and kitty and every other person I met who offered me so much love and attention and support. I never could have made it through this year without them. (Without YOU!) I'm so thankful he's coming home, I'm not even annoyed about the piles of clothes that will inevitably be all over the floor. (...but ask me again next week.)

    Job well done, boys.

NOW COME HOME!

(My cute husband- front row, first on the left.)

Today is far from Childhood...I held her hand the tighter.

I haven't written anything in a long time, and for that, I apologize. We're getting down to the wire of this deployment (Less than three weeks left! O.M.G.) and I've been squeezing in as much fun as possible. (That's not to say I won't have fun when the husband does return!) My mom and sister came to visit for an entire week. We had such a good time at Disneyland where we saw saw the Mouse, at California Adventure where we saw the Cars, and at the La Brea Tar Pits where we saw the mammoths (who were extra woolly).

Nothing beats a California sunset with my mama and seester. 

My best friend also came to visit and I swear we were sixteen again. I forgot how truly awesome it is to be with someone who knows everything about you. There's no need for backstories or explanations because she already knows...everything. We laughed until we cried, we had seriously serious discussions, and we sang country music at the top of our lungs. Oh, and we got tattoos. Because that's how we roll.

OSU girls ready for the Timmy and Kenny concert.

I promise to write very soon about the husband's homecoming and my feelings (and freak outs) about it. But, my main reason for wanting to post is my big sister's birthday today. She's currently in Canada with her (Canadian) husband and having a great time. (At least, I'm guessing she is. Note to self: call sister.) I won't tell you her age, except to say she's eight years older than me. I have an older brother who taught me everything I know about beer and sports and being funny. But my sister? Oh, she taught me...

*Just because your little friends are into *NSync, Backstreet Boys, and New Kids on the Block (...fifteen years ago), doesn't mean you have to assault your ears with that drivel. (Although, I admit to loving me some JC Chasez.) It's okay to know every word to every Gin Blossoms, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and Cowboy Junkies song. (Also, Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Violent Femmes, and Todd Snider.)

*Reading isn't just for nerds. Read often, read everything, and read outside of your comfort zone. A story with an unhappy ending? Read it anyway. An epicly long poem from the 17th century? Read it anyway. A romance novel just for fun? Read it anyway. Because, as we both came to realize...

*When you're an English major (as we both were), reading is part of the gig. As is proper grammar, appropriate punctuation, correct spelling, and editing every paper to within an inch of its life. She's a big-time editor for a big-time publishing company and I'm so proud of her. She took our shared love of using that red pen (which we both learned from our mother) and is making a living out of it. Kudos!

*When I was a kid, I loved to raid her closet. She always had the coolest clothes from The Limited (Outback Red, anyone?) and Express. She taught me how to wear scarves, brooches, and bodysuits. (Oh, the 80s. You were a melting pot of craziness.)

*It's okay if you're not the best chef in the world, but knowing how to bake a cake always comes in handy. (Even if it isn't homemade because Rainbow Chip is your little sister's favorite cake ever. Just be sure to teach her to make it with milk instead of water. It's the little things.)

*Sometimes, nature isn't pretty. (That's an inside joke, but there are some people who know the story. It's a little gross, and yet hilarious. Ask me about it sometime.)

*There have been times in her life when circumstances haven't always gone the way they were expected to go. While I know they were upsetting, she always just kept on moving forward. During this deployment, I've had moments when I just wanted to quit and move home, but being a strong woman and dealing with whatever life throws at you, was always the better decision. Motto: keep calm and carry on.  

   Happy Birthday to my big seester!

I lurve you! 

Mocking boxes.

Do you want to see the two most dreaded phrases in the life of a Single Wife? (I mean, other than "deployment extended" and "R&R canceled"?)

Not even SOME assembly required.

I don't have a "team" right now, box.

And thanks for pointing that out.

Oh, right. My "team".

We got this, mama.

p.s. As adorable as my team member is, I'm still accepting help to build this stupid dresser. And the bed. And, oh yeah, the other dresser.



At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.*

I'm going to consider this a post contributed by a very special "guest blogger"- my husband. He posted this on his facebook in honor of Memorial Day and I felt it was more than worthy of a share. I'm so proud of him and so thankful to call him mine. I know this day is the "unofficial start of summer". I know you're having barbecues and laying out by the pool and enjoying your extra day off from work. But, as my husband states at the end of this post..."Just remember". (And I'll even add a "please" to that.) Just remember.

 

There is a memorial wall near my office here in Afghanistan where pictures document all those who have given the ultimate sacrifice while serving under the last three Regimental Combat Teams that have served here. It is a visual representation that things are much better than they were three years ago, but it also serves as a reminder of what we have paid to get here.

If you do not know someone to remember this Memorial Day, I ask you to Google two of my friends and take a moment in their remembrance. Captain Jesse Melton - he was a fantastic person, Marine, and a great friend who I had the honor to know while I was at a school for officers in the Marine Corps. He gave his life in 2008 in Afghanistan. Sergeant Kevin Balduf - he was a Marine's Marine who served with me in Afghanistan in 2004 and was awarded a Bronze Star for his actions that saved many soldiers. He gave his life in 2011 in Afghanistan, again as a man of action, and I'm certain he saved many lives that day as well.

It has been a long war; some have forgotten why we are here and others ask if it is worth the cost. I cannot answer that for everyone, but I wish to provide a glimpse of what is really happening here. I travelled through the poorest countryside of Afghanistan, the place where the Taliban began many years ago and resurged in 2007. That is where I saw an 8 year old girl who was dressed in traditionally Afghan garb, full of smiles, and was dancing on the side of the road as we passed by in our convoy. Some may not understand what that truly means, but she will be the unknowing beneficiary to the sacrifice Jesse and Kevin have made.

Enjoy your families, friends, food and the start of summer; just remember.

Semper Fi!
 http://mmanetcom.marineclub.com/Kelly2012

(Additional comments from a father of one of our 3/5 Marines.)

 

*This is a line from an ode called "Ode of Remembrance" taken from the poem "For the Fallen" by Laurence Binyon. Look it up.

Land of the free because of the brave.

Memorial Day weekend is coming up and I think it's fairly obvious how I feel about our troops and the sacrifices they make for our country. (If it hasn't been obvious then this has been a total blog FAIL.) I won't go on (...and on) about how this weekend is more than just getting an extra day off from work (not that retail closes down for anything) or having a barbecue with the family (not that picnics aren't awesome). It's an important reminder of those who have fought for our freedom and lost their lives in the battle. And to never forget that there are still those fighting and protecting and living far, far away from their families (and adorable kitties) in order to make this world a better place. I don't care who you vote for or how you feel about this war. (Well, I do, but let's not fight, okay?) But I absolutely care that you support the troops. I care a lot.

'cause, obviously, we love America at this house.

I probably spent more on this pillow than necessary.

(...but it's so pretty!)

My grandma made this bicentennial quilt, which is

handy because my husband was a bicentennial baby.

 

Our little patriotic corner.

 Does a Marine live here? I would say so.

Red, white, and blue kitty.

"...the emblem of the land I love.

The home of the free and the brave."

Retreat, hell! (...but maybe a little.)

Alright. I'm over it. Are you happy now, deployment? I've finally admitted it: I'm done with you. It was fun for awhile. I could watch whatever I wanted to on television without the exasperated sighs from a bored husband. I could spread out in bed and fidget without disturbing anyone. If I wanted to have popcorn for dinner, there was no one around to demand "real food". I didn't even mind the nights where the house was totally quiet and I could read to my heart's content. But now? DONE. I'm done with the frozen chicken nuggets for dinner because I don't feel like making a big meal just for myself. I'm done with the big, empty bed that never seems comfortable. I'm done with handling all the paperwork, bills, taxes, housing issues that I plead total ignorance on because I never had to deal with them before. (Did I almost just cry on the phone with the IRS agent because I'm so over dealing with things I don't understand and every word coming out of his mouth sounded like one of Charlie Brown's teachers? Quite possibly.) I'm even done with the quiet house with no one to talk to, except for my kitty who never stops meowing. And let's face it, I don't speak cat as well as he thinks I do.

I just want my husband to come home. I'm bored. I'm lonely. I'm tired of the same old thing day after day. Yes, I have friends. Yes, I leave the house for more than just work. Yes, I have a pretty full life without my husband. It's just not the same kind of life. There are days when I think about how much more fun I could be having if he were around. I hate coming home after a bad day at work and having no one to talk to about it. Sometimes I just need a hug from my husband. (Hence, the compulsion to hug every Marine on base.) And a kiss would be nice, too. (But definitely not one from the Marines on base.) Not to mention, can I be a totally spoiled (and maybe a smidge obnoxious) girl for just a second? (...Thank you.) I'm tired of buying my own dinner. And paying for my own movie ticket. And buying every.single.thing this life requires in order to have a good time living it. (You know, important stuff, like clothes and shoes and ice cream).

I'm not beaten by any means, but I'm definitely out of the fight. The first (almost) nine months were just fine and I was living life as it came on a day to day basis. It was truly a worthwhile lesson in realizing my own strengths and abilities. (Which are pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.) But these remaining three months? Over yesterday, if I had my druthers. (Weird word, but I like it so it stays.)

Faster, faster, faster!

Two is better than one.*

This is my husband.

 He's pretty much my hero.

The Marine Corps moved us to Southern California

soon after we married. It was the best thing that

could have happened to us.

We've been all over the world together.

From the South of France...

 (That's our cruise ship docked in Cannes.)

...to Italy...

...to Spain...

...to Croatia.

Today is his birthday and he's far, far away from home.

This time, without me.

(Which is totally fine. I don't like the desert. Or bombs.)

Mateo and I know he's doing important work,

but we miss him nonetheless.

Because we're happiest when we're together.

And in 100 days, we'll be together again

and we'll celebrate everything he's missed.

Happy Birthday, my husband!

I love you and can't wait

for you to come home.

*Song by Boys Like Girls. Also, our first dance at our wedding reception. Speaking of which, we also just celebrated our two year anniversary on May 1. It's been the best two years of my life! 

Blessed are his children after him.

This is my daddy. He's had my back

(and I've had his) for a long time now.

He's the leader of our family and

a wonderful Christian example of

what a good husband and father should be.

This man can tell a story, whether he's

being interviewed in front of the White House

or just holding court in the family room.

I don't know who gripped who harder. Walking down that aisle

to leave the first man I ever loved, to go to the next man

I would love forever, was a moment I'll never forget.

Even though he had to give me away, he'll never really be rid of me.

As I left for my new home with my new husband,

he told me what he's always told me:

"Don't forget, your daddy loves you." 

And seeing him as a PopPop to my precious little niece,

reminds me that I had the best daddy ever growing up.

I can't wait to make him a PopPop to one of my own little babies.

"You're beautiful baby from the outside in
Chase your dreams but always know the road that will lead you home again
Go on, take on this whole world
But to me you know you'll always be...

my little girl."

(Tim McGraw, "My Little Girl, father/daughter dance at my reception)

Happy Birthday, dad! I love you and I'm so proud to be your daughter. 

Blessed by the stress.

I've never been an obsessive fan of Oprah. She seems like a nice enough person and I can appreciate the good deeds she's done for her audiences and viewers over the years. I can also give her credit for encouraging millions of housewives to read Gabriel Garcia Marquez (an author even I didn't have to read as English major with a Spanish minor) or for convincing them to read The Secret in order to make all their dreams come true. (I hate that book. That author made millions of dollars based on the simple idea of "think good thoughts and good things will come your way". Seriously, people. Duh.) So, right, she got people reading which I applaud wholeheartedly. Did I hate that people would call in for her book club selection as soon as she announced it simply because Queen Oprah said to buy it? Yes. Do I hate that people still ask me where the "Oprah Book Club" section is in our store? YES. (Because that section has never existed and it never will. Stop asking.) But I digress.

I watched her show every afternoon growing up and still tape a few of the shows she now has on her (somewhat lame) television network. One of those shows I tape is essentially her old talk show, only now it's called Oprah's Next Chapter. Most of the ones I have seen have been Oprah interviewing a celebrity, but usually not a STAR of the Hollywood variety. This week she interviewed T.D. Jakes who is a pastor, author (Woman Thou Art Loosed! Love that title.), director, and I'm sure a dozen other things I'm not listing. He's preaching about the little boy with his two fishes and five loaves of bread. Jesus blessed that food and multiplied it to feed the thousands. Jakes is making the point that Jesus is blessing that which is not enough and says, "Until you can be thankful for something that is not enough, then what you have cannot be multiplied into what is more than enough." Preach it, T.D.! I love that. I love being reminded that what I have is enough. To appreciate what I have and not always be on the search for more. It will come to you if you let it. Anything more than what you need is just gravy. Or icing on the cake. Or bacon. (You know. Whatever you consider to be the ultimate.)  

"We are certain that he had two fishes and five loaves of bread when he blessed it. As he broke it, that's where we lose count. You understand then that the blessing is in the breaking." Did you catch that? "The blessing is in the breaking". Woah. Now, I don't claim to have had a very tough life. I had a wonderful childhood with wonderful parents and wonderful siblings. I have the best husband ever and friends who are there for me even when we're thousands of miles apart. But this deployment? This deployment has tested me. It's made me cry. (And not just cry, but weep.) It's made me curse. (I may have dropped the 'F-bomb' a couple of times.) It's made me throw things. (Sorry, iPhone.) It's made me worry endlessly for days on end. (My fingernails are chewed to the nub.) It's made me feel like I'm going to be alone forever. (Not so- only 125 days left!) Granted, I have a way of exaggerating for the drama, but really, this has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do. 'Broken' may be too extreme for how I'm feeling, but I think 'tested' will do nicely.

So let me say that I am definitely seeing those blessings! I look at my husband in a different way than I ever did before. I just took for granted that if the internet died, he would fix it. If a lightbulb blew out, he would change it. If we had to drive somewhere, he would be in the driver's seat. If I needed someone to talk to, there he was. Now that he's not here, I appreciate him all the more for the things he's not doing. Because I know if he was here, he would be doing them. I've also been blessed by new friends whom I may never have grown so close to if my husband had been here. He consumes a lot of my attention and I don't always make time for forming new friendships. With him gone, I was forced to open myself up to new people and start friendships that I'm sure will last a lifetime. And, as silly as it may seem, I've been blessed by this cat sleeping so peacefully beside me. We got him because the deployment was imminent and I insisted on a companion. I don't know what I would do without this furry little guy by my side. I am blessed by being able to look at myself and say, "Not bad, kid." I've been stronger than I thought I would be and it's a great feeling to know that when the worst comes, I'm strong enough to handle it. By myself. With my cat. But always with God.  

It ain't easy on this love affair.

Well, he's gone. It's almost like he was never even here. The bed is suddenly much bigger. There's only one towel hanging in the bathroom. The DVR is empty of all the "silly reality crap" I wasn't allowed to watch when he was home. The leftover pizza from yesterday is still in the fridge. (Because if he was still here, the pizza would not be.) I waited and waited (and waited!) for him to come home and he finally did. (Yes, five days late, but better late than...you know.) And now he's gone. Just like that.

A lot of friends have asked me how I'm doing and it was a hard question to answer. I mean, I'm sad definitely. My husband was with me at.all.times for two weeks straight. We didn't go anywhere without the other. That was the most time we had spent together in almost eight months. It was wonderful. Awesome. Fantastic. Not a fight to be had! (Except when he wouldn't pick up his multiple piles of...stuff...sitting around the house. In the living room. Up the stairs. In the bedroom. In the bathroom. When asked to clean up said piles, the phrase "I've been at WAR!" was mentioned more than once. Anyone have a comeback for that? Yeah. Me either.) But now that he's gone? It feels normal. Like, this is the way my life is supposed to be. How sad is that? I'm a wife and I need a husband. Yet, my husband isn't here and that seems like the status quo.

So I'm fine and sad and feeling a little lost and yet feeling right back on track. If I was cool (and I use that term with a wee bit of sarcasm) enough, I'd do a little Twitter hashtag right now. Maybe #marinewifeproblems. Or #aloneagainnaturally. On the bright side, he'll be home soon. And for good this time. (Or as "for good" as it can be when you're in the military.) I'm excited for him to come home and be in this marriage with me. Being a Single Wife hasn't been easy, but it has made me appreciate my husband more than ever. The time we get to spend together is so very precious that I just want to revel in the happy. (...even when he leaves a pile of dirty clothes beside the laundry basket.)

You SO get me, Steve Perry.

Reunited and it feels so good.



He's home!

And life is grand.

More to come...

The waiting is the hardest part.

I broke one of the commandments of being a Marine Wife: Thou shalt not depend on any given date or time of arrival. *sigh* But I did. I depended. Rookie mistake. (Although, this wife isn't so much a 'rookie' anymore. Call it a relapse.) I just got so excited. I requested the two weeks off from work, cleaned the house from top to bottom, spent more money than reasonable at the grocery store, and promised Mateo his daddy was coming home soon. (Thankfully, he's not a little kid who can actually understand the words that are coming out of my mouth...) I was hoping the husband would be home for his R&R on Sunday night. Then it was Monday. Then Tuesday...and now it's sometime at the end of the week. Maybe. I mean, really? It could be the end of next week at the rate we're going. It's the weather. It's mechanical issues. It's idon'treallycarewhatitisbutit'skeepingmefrommyhusband. I now have to cancel dinner with friends and a meeting with the tax man. I'm a little more upset about the former than the latter. On the bright side, our lovely cabin in the wilderness isn't booked until next week so he should be home in plenty of time for that. (Maybe. Probably. Please, God, please.)

A hot tub on the porch overlooking a rocky stream?

YES.

  

I'm trying not to mope too much. Or be too depressed. Or lay on my couch and cry all over my kitty because I'm just.so.disappointed. At least he's still coming home, right? My mother-in-law told me tonight that my husband's dad had an R&R canceled entirely. As in, not coming home AT ALL. She sobbed in the parking lot. I wanted to sob just hearing that story. So, for now, I'm counting my lucky stars (correction: I'm thanking God!) that he's still coming home and I won't have to wait an entire year before I see my husband. The fridge is still full of Diet Mountain Dew. The pantry is stocked with goldfish crackers. I still haven't bitten my nails. (It's been three weeks. That's huge. Really. And it was a surprise so...surprise!) I just have to get through another few days without him. And, hey, I've already gone six months and three weeks. How hard can it be?

Just missing our third.   

Shake the glitter off your clothes now.

I'm a pretty good girl. I don't cuss very often. (Even when I'm telling a story about someone using a curse word, I still say "bad word". Like a six year old.) I pray and read my Bible on a (somewhat) daily basis. I don't get drunk every night. I'm without question faithful to my husband. I respect my elders and treat others they want to be treated. Clearly, no one can be so perfect all the time. I must have a vice, right? Oh, I do.

VEGAS, BABY!

That's right. I love to gamble. The call of the slot machines with all the bells and whistles are like a siren. I hear that "Wheel! Of! Fortune!" and my heart starts to beat a little faster. And when I win? 

Thrills galore!

You know what else I love about Vegas? You can see the world without ever leaving the Nevada desert. (Have I seen most of these places- Monte Carlo, Venice, Rome- in their true locales? Yes. Is it still cool to see them in the bright lights of Vegas? Yes, again.)

Our home for the weekend.

Now if my husband had been there, loaded down with suitcases,

it would have been just like our honeymoon.

I've never been to Paris, but I imagine

it's got to be as pretty as this.

I don't remember the horse being quite so menacing

at the real Trevi Fountain.

God bless the U.S.A.

I'm also not much of a hard drinker or crazy dancer in my normal life, but Vegas seems to change a lady...(But not too much change! No poles were involved in any of my dancing.) 

This was the party bar...

...and this was the party tub.

Gold! Glitter! Stilettos! Nothing I would

wear to work!

Get it, gurl!

OSU Gurl.

These shoes were not made for walking...or dancing...or even standing.

The only bad part about Vegas? Leaving. 

Helloooo, traffic.

The commo's wife (...that would be me)

brought walkie talkies (Ahem...radios.)

 They were a huge hit. HUGE.

Mountain. Mountain. Desert. Mountain. Desert. Mountain.

Aaaand now...the world's tallest thermometer!

The sun sets on another fabulous Vegas vacation.

My wallet is a little lighter, but my gambling fix has been...um...fixed.

And my happiness level has been reached.

Until next time, Sin City!

(Not that I sinned. Unless slot machines count...?)