It's been a while..... well, it's been too long actually. I've been so self centered, worrying about how things will be once TS comes home. And he is, soon. I am so overjoyed that he will be home soon, to help take over the chores of the newly purchased house, and share, once again, the wedded bliss we have so missed. I am also looking forward to having him here when I have my surgery on my stupid foot. It will be an amazing help, and such a comfort, if only the Army can get him here before the surgery. I'm mostly worried about how things are gonna go after the "new" wears off again.
We all remember that stage of wedded bliss, or relationship bliss. The stage where you stop shaving your legs, getting up early to brush your hair, let alone your teeth before they wake up. And we all know that's
WAY before the "letting go" of them leaving their boots and socks all over your house/apartment/cottage/loft/ whatever has passed. That time when you really learn about the other person, when the "OM MY GOD if he leaves another dish in the sink I
might actually kill him/smother him in his sleep/poison his food." (no?!?! just me???? whatever!). Don't lie, you know you've been there, if you haven't then bless you, you're still in the beginning stages of your relationship, where it's all shiny, sparkling, and new. For those of us who have, and I say us loosely, because I am still considered a "new" wife, but like one of my FAV LTC's told me, that being married during a deployment, the years are like dog years, you know what I am talking about. When they leave their "stuff" ("Hey where's all my stuff?" or "Hey, what did you do with my stuff?" ) stuff = their crap, electronics, cables, cords, plugs, remotes, special fabric to be used to clean the damn TV screen, ALL OVER YOUR (both of your's) HOUSE. I find this one particularly interesting. My Love, my handsome hubby, the man that I love more than anyone in the world, used to get "stuff" out to use for whatever particular reason, and then would leave "
it" out. I would pick up, at that time I was unemployed and had, quite literally, NOTHING better to do, and I would put "it" somewhere. Now, had
"it" been my "stuff" I would have know where
"it" came from and put
"it" away where
"it" rightfully belonged, but since
"it" wasn't mine, I put
"it" where
"it" made logical sense....... to me. And when I was faced with that ever frequent and frustrating question "hey, babe, where'd you put my "stuff"?" I would say, I don't know, maybe if you put it away, you'd know where it was. Anyhow, long story short, cause I am rambling now, we determined one specific drawer, and I put all his
crap "stuff" that was left out in there, and WHALA, he could find
"it" once again.
See that long, drawn out, overly narrative, but totally logical statement was to highlight that we no longer have that drawer(literally and figuratively). Everything is different now. Heck, last time he was home (other than RNR), that was before this house and an apartment in the middle. Two "homes" ago. So what I am exhaustingly getting to is we have to figure out the "drawer" where all the "stuff" goes. If that makes sense, cause it does to me, and well, that's all that matters here anyhow. Ya ya, self centered at the moment. As Kathy Griffith would say, "suck it". I just can't help but wonder how long it's going to take us to find that proverbial drawer. And how much things have changed, for both of us, I've gotten a job, moved once by myself, searched for and bought us a house, moved into that house by myself (ok, with help, both times, from a brother that is a saint when it comes to moving, but that is all together another blog moment) dyed my hair multiple colors (what I do when I get bored), told the stylist never to let me cut bangs..... cut bangs..... went back today to change colors again and get a trim..... and remind her that I told her NOT to let me cut bangs.
He's been away, completely devoid of all things "normal". He doesn't know when trash day is, what days we are "allowed" to water the grass, how much I truly have been fighting the dreaded crabgrass (I've come to the conclusion that crabgrass is the DEVIL - more on that later), how many spiders I had to kill by myself, how many times I left dishes in the sink, just like I used to yell at him about. So many things have come and gone, and he's been in a holding pattern for the last year.
Well, I truly have to go to bed now, I have to be up early to SRP a bunch of soldiers at 0700. I can only hope that when TS gets out of this holding pattern AKA Iraq, he hasn't seen too much turbulence, had too many inflight meals, or brought home too much baggage. Don't get me started on foot lockers.
