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...?)

How do I love thee?

You know what? I like Valentine's day. A lot. I'm not just saying that because I have a man in my life (and have had him in my life for the past eleven years). I like the cards and the chocolates and all the red and pink hearts everywhere. (I have a pink heart tattoo, for crying out loud.) I like the cute decorations and the childrens' books covered in  hugs and kisses. I wore my red shirt and red earrings and heart necklace today and stood out as the lone "festive" bookseller. It irks me when people say, usually quite smugly, "Oh, we don't celebrate Valentine's day. We show our love for each other every day." I mean, really? Is that your way of saying I don't show my love for my husband every day because I do celebrate this holiday? "It's a Hallmark holiday." Great! Sell me a card, Hallmark! Even when I wasn't dating a special someone on Valentine's day, I still had my family. My dad would bring home roses for his three girls and we would all buy cards for one another. There was usually a dinner out for all of us, too. It's just a day to love and be loved. Sure, just like every other day, but on a way more public scale. Do I need Christmas to remind me that the Savior of the world was born? Nope, but I celebrate it nonetheless. Because it's fun. And it's happy. And it makes me feel good on a day that would otherwise just be.another.day. My husband is deployed (No! Really?) so I am without my Valentine this year. I'm okay with that. I have friends coming over tonight and we're going to watch sappy movies and eat all of the yummy chocolate I received today. I don't need my man to celebrate. Yes, the main focus of this holiday is a romantic love and it's not called "Singles Awareness Day" for nothing, but love is love. And I'm a lucky girl to have SO much love in my life.

So I wish all of you a very Happy Valentine's Day, whether you're with the one you love romatically or the one you want to love romantically. Whether you're with your best friends or maybe just with your best cat (or dog). It's a day to celebrate love so CELEBRATE.

It also didn't hurt that my very awesome husband

sent me flowers and a box of Godiva while I was at work.

     

As is the mother, so is her daughter.*

Today is my mom's birthday. (It's also Super Bowl Sunday, but I didn't watch a single second of it. Well, that's not true. I taped it, fast forwarded to the National Anthem, saw my husband's regiment being filmed live from Afghanistan, and then deleted it from my DVR. Loved me some RCT-5! Oorah!)

The ultimate multi-taskers: Protecting the country AND watching football.



I miss being home to celebrate these milestones with my family. I've been around to celebrate just about every birthday anyone in my (immediate) family has had for the past thirty-two years. I miss the birthday dinners after church and the opening presents and the cake and ice cream. It's even more difficult now that we have a little one in the family who still gets to have birthday parties and doesn't understand why her Aunt Shoe (adorable nickname, right?) isn't there. It's just one more thing to accept when living the military lifestyle. I know I will never (never say never?) live in Ohio ever again. I also know that my family will probably continue to live in Ohio for the rest of their lives. At some point, though, I will live on the east coast again and that makes the distance now a little easier to bear.

So yes, today is my mom's birthday. My mom has always been my biggest fan, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. Really. I lived with my parents for a long, long time. We always got along so well. I loved our dinners out at whatever restaurant we could all agree on and I loved our nights when we stayed home and had dinner at the kitchen table. My mom would visit me all the time while I worked at my bookstore. She would stop by on my breaks, on my lunches, and just randomly passing through. (Mostly it was for the frappuccino discounts, but I think a little bit was to see me.) We loved going shopping together, and she could even convince me to go into Kohl's on occasion. (Anyone who knows me knows what an accomplishment that is.) Target, Old Navy, and a coffee shop (Starbucks, Caribou, or the local one down the street) was our normal, weekly routine. (I miss that!) My mom will go to the ends of the earth if she knows there's something one of her kids needs. I get my sarcastic sense of humor and my absolute need for a bargain from her. When I was getting married, she was the one beside me through every decision. Seeing her with my niece (her very first grandchild!) has given me a whole new appreciation for my mother. I knew she loved her kids, but you can see that love even clearer when she's with that Sweet Baby. I can't wait to have kids of my own so they can see what an awesome grandma (and grandpa- I never want to exclude my dad from that!) they have. My mom and I have definitely had our disagreements, but I have never for one second doubted she loved me. I know how lucky I am to still have my mom in my life. She's my texting partner, my shopping guru, and my good example. Thanks, mama. Happy Birthday from your littlest girl (the original Sweet Baby)!      

And she always wants to visit me!

(The nearby beaches certainly help.)  

* Ezekiel 16:44