The last weekend

**Post 2 of 3 in the Pre-Deployment Nightmarish Posts. We will be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon, I promise.**

Our last weekend before the deployment has come and gone. Steve spent a lot of time today laying out, folding up, and packing things carefully into his bags. He goes back to work tomorrow through Thursday, and then poof. Off they go.
I thought I would be a crying, blubbering, snot-covered mess by now. Especially watching him pack his things. But I'm not. I'm numb to this, it seems. And I think I'm still telling myself that this isn't happening. I mean, he's supposed to leave in less than a week and HE STILL DOESN'T HAVE ORDERS. (Way to go Fort Campbell! You rock our socks right off with your level of preparedness! Especially since you've been planning this deployment for a full year now! Sarcasm!) So maybe that's why it doesn't feel real yet. I dunno.

The only times I've cried so far have been at night while rocking Molly to sleep. I can hear Steve and Sam playing around in the bathroom, finishing up bath-time and brushing Sam's teeth. It always hits me then. The Jesus-Mary-and-Joseph-how-will-I-ever-manage-without-him-? thoughts start hitting me hard.

Ok, I lied. I also started crying at the commissary the other day. I escaped there by myself (another perk of having a husband at home!) and wandered down the Oriental aisle to get some rice. Instant rice, to be exact. It took us something like a year to use up the family size pack of rice baggies and we were finally out. But standing there between the soy sauce and 50lb bags of jasmine rice (seriously, who eats that much?), I started to lose it. "I don't need the family size baggies anymore. I'll never eat that much rice by myself.... waaaaaaahhhhhhh..... Pull it together Jenn. No tears. You gotta at least wait til you get back in the car. Then you can ugly cry. Don't do it in public." Then I went to get milk. The expiration dates were all after Steve's deployment date. Losing it again....

Sweet Sarah volunteered to come over on Sunday to babysit so that Steve and I could go on one. last. date. Sam was down for a nap but Molly was being a diva. So to save Sam's nap and Sarah's sanity, we took Molly with us. No big deal since we didn't have anything really planned. I had to return a couple of things at Target and we planned on getting a new plunger. (Being prepared is priority numero uno around here.) (Also, hot date, huh?) Target was fun (duh) and we hit up the commissary for more produce and a frozen pizza (dinner!) before heading home. Sam did not try and hide his feelings about us invading his alone time with Sarah and he was quite the pill until bedtime. Luckily we got both of them down at a fairly decent hour and cooked our pizza in peace. We got really crazy and ordered our first ever movie on-demand. I know. We are so 2005. But there wasn't jack-diddly on Redbox and we weren't feeling like watching the other four channels that we get (NatGeo, I'm lookin' at you.).

Today was spent going to the park, watching Steve pack, pretending that nothing out of the ordinary is going on, and hanging out in the gorgeous weather that has somehow made its way to us. (Maybe God is trying to make his leaving slightly gentler by not having me cry AND sweat all at the same time?)

It feels like there is still so much left to say to Steve before he leaves, but that saying it will somehow cause this deployment to come faster than it already is. So we just smile at each other and laugh at our kids and talk about how nice the weather is and try to soak up every last second. Because ya just never know.

So now I'm going to post these pre-deployment thoughts. Try to remember that I am still sarcastic and definitely eating cake.

**This is the first of three posts that I wrote before Steve deployed. Obviously I couldn't post them then because of OPSEC, but I needed to get it out, so I wrote it as a draft. I'm posting it now in case someone else is going through the shit-hole that is pre-deployment and needs to hear that someone else felt like they were trapped in a Groundhog's Day-esque living nightmare and made it out on the other side ok. (I'm ok!) I'm afraid it isn't a very humorous post, so feel free to skip it! We will be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon!**

It happened overnight. Everyone here on post is wearing multi-cam. I see neighbors loading up bags and equipment in their trucks. I see families doing everything together, trying to soak up these last few days/weeks. It's heart-breaking. I feel for these families. They're losing a very important member of their family for a very long stretch of time. Their soldier will miss birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, weddings, first words, first steps...

It almost feels as if this isn't going to happen. Life is still going on just like it always has. He still gets up and goes to work everyday, coming home at the same regular time, sometimes later. We talk about what we're having for dinner, who said what at the post office, how he needs more deodorant and body wash the next time I'm at the store. We go to bed and do it all over again the next day. We haven't made any plans for any time after September, but that's not unusual for us. We don't make plans for the weekend until it's upon us. So besides the multi-cam, it seems as if everything could just stay the same. We could avoid this if we just keep doing our regular routine.

I was left momentarily speechless when I called USAA to request a new credit card recently (we think Sam "recycled" mine), and the lady on the line asked when Steve was deploying. I told her "next month," and she insisted that he call her back to make sure he had enough life insurance in case "something" happened. I wanted to scream at her that NOTHING is going to happen because he's not going. Where can I get him a doctor's note. Can I just sign a waiver myself saying he can be excused from this trip? I keep saying "next month" like it is so far into the future. Molly is five months now. I swear to Mary that she was just born a week ago. So I'm fully aware of how quickly a month can go by. Yet I've been saying "next month" for ages it seems...

I have been able to preoccupy myself with my friends' husbands' deployments. Their husbands left sooner. I need to support them. It's not my husband's turn yet. I don't need to think about that yet. But I was reminded today that our turn is coming, whether I'm ready or not. Steve put on his multi-cam today. It's getting close. I might still be able to say "next month," but this month is only a few days from being over.

I get excited with the thought of Sam starting preschool. But then I quickly realize that not even two weeks after that much-anticipated day, I'll be sending my husband off to war. So I want time to slow down. I want it to STOP. I wanna hold my chubby baby and my (usually) sweet toddler and my ridiculously caring husband in my arms and make time stand still. I don't have months to savor. I have a couple of weeks.

We usually save grocery shopping for the weekend. Steve switches out carseats, loads up the kids, and gets the a/c going while I jot down last-minute things on my list for the commissary. He always finds a special cart for Sam (a rocket ship, truck, etc) and pushes Sam around while I strap Molly in the Ergo and load our items into the cart. Shopping with him is a breeze because I feel like I'm only responsible for one child and none of the heavy lifting. How will I manage both kids in the commissary on my own?

When Steve gets home from work, he usually takes Sam and Molly outside so that I can prepare dinner. Sam shows him his finest lawn-mowing skills, while Molly appears to just soak him in and constantly smiles. I have a few blissfully quiet minutes alone to get dinner ready and then I sit outside with my family. How will I ever cook a meal without his loving hands to hold my children?

As I sit upstairs at night rocking Molly to sleep, I can hear Steve giving Sam a bath and putting him to bed. They're so sweet together. How will Sam cope without his Daddy around? How will I ever get two babies to bed at the same-ish time every night?

After the babies are in bed, I am usually pumping one last time for the night. Steve goes around getting his things ready for the next day of PT and work. After he finishes that, he feeds Odie, checks on laundry, usually hangs up the diapers I never got around to, finishes the dishes and checks one last time to make sure we're locked up for the night. He leaves all the right lights on for me in case I have to get up in the night with Molly. He will rub my back if I beg ask him to. He curls around me and holds me until we are both dead-asleep (which usually takes no longer than a few minutes). Who will tie up all of my daily loose ends? How will I fall asleep knowing that he's not just on the other side of post, sleeping in a tent, planning on returning to me in a week or two? Who will I talk all of my daily, stupid problems over with? What do I do if I can't be mother and father to our children?

I knew this day would come eventually. I just didn't think it would come so soon.

Because I'm such a fashionista and I know you care- what I wore one day recently-ish

Well first things first. I got to take a shower (it's a MUCH bigger deal than you think, people). Then I put on my black yoga capris. Then a white tank top that I think is considered to be "work-out gear." I think my yoga capris are actually supposed to go to yoga too, but let's not get caught up in semantics here. I put a jewel-toned purple hoodie on top of that. (Some magazine I read forty forevers ago when I had time to do things like read magazines said that jewel-tones look good on EVERYONE and don't you know they wouldn't lie to me. Whoever they were.) And then I added a touch of fresh.

A girl never knows when she's gonna sweat. Actually, wait. Yes she does. ALL THE LIVELONG DAY I WANNA MOVE TO ALASKA STAT. After my sweet-smelling prescription-strength deodorant was applied, I proceeded to not put on any makeup. Au naturale today, baby. Then, a piece of jewelry.

Yep. It happened.

I would love to tell you that this bracelet is equipped with super coping powers and an endless supply of chocolate and wine, but.... wait. That's my fridge.

He left at some god-awful early morning hour when good people (and Army people- HARHAR) are still at home in their beds. I am blessed enough to know Sarah, who came over to supervise the two (supposedly sleeping) babies while I did the deed. I thought I would be an ugly, sobbing, emotional wreck there. But when it came time to say our goodbyes, I remembered some things I had read earlier and somehow managed to keep it together.

Before the final farewell, we had some time to hang out (you know, to spread the torture and pain out just a teeeeensy bit longer) and since we were kinda over the whole wailing and gnashing of teeth phase, we decided to try and get a picture of us together. With my phone. In the dark. I promised Steve that I would post every last picture I took. Because they are just that awesome. And even if we tried, I don't think we could come up with this many horrible pictures in a row again.

Let's try to ignore the fact that I look like I've been beaten in the face with a club. (I am kind of an ugly crier, and the ugly effects last long after I've stopped crying.) Let's focus on how Steve looks as drunk as a skunk and cannot keep his eyes open during the flash to save his life. Luckily we wised up on the last picture, used his phone for light, and took one without a flash.

Ahhhh. Normal people.

We heard the final call for farewells, the buses started pulling up, and it was time for me to leave. I got into my car and was immediately blocked in by buses. So I decided to walk back and watch them load up. I stood at the first bus and found Steve sitting there. I creeped on him for more than a few minutes before he noticed me. Somehow my flash got turned back on on my camera, so the last picture I have of him is very hard to see.

He's right behind that window that appears to be lit up.

But as soon as I took that picture and turned off my flash, they shut the lights off on the buses and rolled out. I blew kisses at the dark and hoped that he could see me. Then I stood with the other wives and waved at the rest of the buses as they drove out, pretending like I actually knew someone else on there.

While we miss Steve more than a fat kid misses cake (seriously, where did all the cake go?), we are settling into our new routine and trying to stay busy. We are successfully doing that by completing some basic household chores. (HELLO dust bunnies! "Go forth and multiply" did not necessarily apply to you.) And when I say "we" I obviously mean "me." Sam helped by picking up every strand of my hair that he could find (I lose a lot of hair around here) and bringing it to me. Molly chose to nap and drink milk. (What a life!)

I've got a few posts that I wrote pre-deployment that I'm going to post soon (they are not all so light-hearted unfortunately!) and my baby is turning 2 and my other baby is turning 6 months, and I need to update on cloth diapering two under two, and what happened when I mailed my first care package (y'all know there's a story there), and I think I will still be expected to cook and clean and care for these two dependent humans I am responsible for, so we will see how all of that goes.

I apologize for the wacky picture spacing. I tried and tried and tried to get it to look normal, but in the end, decided that I cannot waste any more time on it. I don't know why they look like that.
I need technological assistance. And cake. STAT.

*Also. My sweet blog friend Jane made this bracelet for me. You can find some just like it in her Etsy shop!

Now that everyone has stopped doing these, I guess I'll go ahead and post mine

Recently (or not so recently maybe), I have been nominated by a few sweet ladies for the Liebster Award. Basically, you must answer eleventy billion questions about yourself and then ask just as many to other folks that you nominate. I exaggerate... It's only 11 questions and facts. But I have this general feeling that no one wants to read 50 facts about me. I honestly can't come up with that many things anyway. Unless we list every type of chocolate I like and why, the one peanut butter I'm addicted to and why (it's Planters, by the way), and how, if I could change one single stinkin' thing about my house, I would make the stairs not creak. Great alarm system, horrid for keeping sensitive sleepers asleep. Ok let's get to the Liebster thing. I think I am just going to answer questions that I have witty answers for. But of course.

Kathryn asked:
Where did you attend college?
Well Kathryn, as much as I love yelling "War Eagle," I have to be honest with you. I actually attended two schools. First, I did two years at Troy University. Yes, you read that right. Before I bled orange and blue, I was yelling "Go Trojans!" and living in a very creepy dorm with my best friend from high school. You might have one of these schools in your town, possibly in a strip mall even. They seem to be cropping up everywhere. But I went to the ORIGINAL Troy University in Troy, Alabama. Not Troy-Dothan, or Troy-Montgomery, or Troy-Taiwan. Troy-Troy. What led me there? Free tuition. But then I got the feeling that I did not want to major in chemistry (firstly, because I do not like chemistry, secondly, I kind of always smelled like rotting eggs after leaving the chem lab. Nothankyou). So I transferred to Auburn University. There, I lived in a trailer or two, met my husband, got my degree in Exercise Science, and then a secondary MRS degree.

What annoys you most about milspouse bloggers?
Ugh, what really annoys me is how they turn out to be such great friends, true battle buddies, and then don't live where I live. How dare you all for being so nice and not living next-door to me.

Allison asked:
What was your very first post (link to it)?
Here it is:
http://lifewiththelieutenant.blogspot.com/2011/01/now-he-sleeps.html
I was clearly a sleep-deprived mess at this point. I just started talking to the internet- no introductions, no real purpose, just whining about my lack of sleep. (And OMG look at how teeny weeny Sammy was! Bless his heart, still reeling from the baby acne.)

What unique item do you always keep in your fridge?
Lately, a quarter, a pacifier, an unidentified fuzzy substance in a jar of pasta sauce, and liquid-y feta cheese. Also, usually Sam. He is fascinated with picking his own grapes out of the bowl and generally treating the open fridge door like a personal invitation to an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Bonnie asked:
What is your favorite season?
My favorite season is, by far, fall. (Mainly because it is the gateway season to winter.) Not 80-something-degrees fall, but actual fall. Leaves-changing-colors-and-falling-off-the-trees, pumpkin-candle-burning, cool-enough-to-not-sweat-through-your-shirt FALL. Anyone that is still lusting after summer needs to do a good 8 months of *super-fun summer* time in the South. Sweating and bug bites and coating multiple layers of sunscreen on squirmy children cannot be classified as fun. I am so sorry, summer lovers. Also, if you care to learn more about my hatred of hot weather in general, you can click on the label "I hate the heat" in the sidebar. You're welcome.

Bethany asked:
What is one hot-button issue you wish everyone would just shut up about?
Honestly, the only place I see any "hot-button issues" is twitter. And I just ignore it all. I got off Facebook many moons ago because I'm sick of what that website does to people. But here I go creating hot-button issues of my own. To answer the question at hand- I wish everyone would just shut up about politics and how other people choose to live their lives. Let's strive for peace. I hope that is specific enough, yet also too vague to piss anyone off. Also, vote for me as Miss America 2013. Peace, love, and big hair, y'all.

What would your significant other say is your best quality?
"Bodacious Bahama Mamas." And that is a direct quote from the man himself. I also have a brain and seem to take decent care of our children too, for what it's worth.

Kiki asked:
Do you prefer sweet or salty?
Yes.
And I'll have a glass of wine with that too.

The first day of preschool

Have you seen those pictures on Pinterest where the parents take their child's picture on the first day of every school year holding some sort of sign detailing what year it is and how old they are and they look so put together and, generally, full of time? Yep, I had those ambitions. I at least wanted a cute picture of my son's first day of school. Sadly, life gave me a big ol' smack to the face and said, "You either get a cute picture of your kid or you get to change out of your pajamas before drop-off. DON'T GET GREEDY and expect both." So I opted to change clothes because I don't want to (immediately) be labeled as that mom.

So instead of the cutesy photos of my child in front of his new school, holding a perfectly handwritten chalkboard with the date, his age, his favorite color, football team, allergy, and a teacher gift, there is this.

Just stand there (next to the trash can) and smile! Can you stop eating your breakfast for a second?

No, don't you squat down here with Mama, just stand up straight and smile at the camera! Cheeeeeeeese!  Gah this lighting SUCKS. Steve, can you flip on a lamp? Molly, we will GET TO YOU IN A MINUTE. 

We should have done this outside. The lighting in this kitchen is HORRID. But if I let him walk outside he's going to think that we're going out to play. And then he'll flip his lid when I put him in the car. How long do you think it will take me to get downtown at this time of day anyway? We're gonna be late aren't we. Where is that Epi-pen? Finish chewing, I just need one decent shot to soothe my guilt over not having a special chalkboard.

Sam! Look over here! Smile for just one second! We are so going to be late. And all of these pictures look like $#*+. 

We actually made it to preschool early, but clearly not as early as everyone else, as he was the last one to class (we were ten minutes early!). I then had to explain his allergies and the Epi-pen and how I didn't get the packet of papers to fill out at the open house and oh hi! there's the director! I'll come to your office and write you a check. Let's spend some time talking about Sam's allergies and Molly's cheeks and I have to wash his hands before he can go in the classroom? But I have a child strapped to my front. GAH. Ok. I'll see what I can do. Why do you think I'm trying to lure you into a bathroom, child? Just come in here so I can wet your hands and splash some soap on you. Who on God's green earth did they make these sinks for? Third graders apparently. Too tall for toddlers, WAY too short for adults. This bathroom is ridiculous. I think they're out of paper towels. Don't get Molly wet. Ok, just use my shirt. Let's go find your teacher. Sam! Can I take your picture?

Well I love you too. See you in three hours! (Except by the time I left, it was closer to two hours. Grumble grumble.)

While I often thought I'd be that mom who cried upon leaving my child with a veritable stranger or have a breakdown in the parking lot, I nearly skipped out of there. He has ZERO separation anxiety! He's going to have FUN! By the time I get home, I'm going to have to come right BACK! I bet my meter has expired since preschool drop-off took approximately 90 minutes! Come on Molly!

When I went to pick him up, the teachers commented on how great he did and how well-behaved he was. He appeared happy and held my hand while we walked through the church. Until we got outside and he lost his ever-lovin' mind. Whyyyyyyyy must I hold your haaaaaaaaaand????? (Loses his $#*+ on the sidewalk. I pick him up like a sack of potatoes and haul him to the car. At first I felt embarrassed, what with my child having such an ugly meltdown in the middle of the parking lot. Then I remembered that I was surrounded by parents of preschoolers and I knew that I was not being judged. Pitied maybe, but definitely not judged.) Sam proceeded to be a complete joy for the rest of the day. (SARCASM) My mama told me that he was probably acting out because "his whole world is being turned upside down with this sudden schedule change." I think that 1) I know why kids love their grandmothers so much and 2) that might be giving him a little too much credit. Sam is not known for his situational awareness. (Please refer to the multiple times a day where he runs into the same wall.)

The next day of preschool went smoothly, and Molly and I actually had time to go run errands! And browse Target! And sit in the car in PEACE! What a dream. Sam still flipped out when he had to hold my hand in the parking lot (does he suddenly find my yoga capris that repulsive?) but "recovered" fairly quickly (meaning: he did not scream the entire way home again). He was pleasant to be around the rest of the day and I'm hoping that his "transition period" is over.

So, um, yeah. It's official. I love preschool.

Just another excuse to give someone some chocolate and wine. Or alternately titled: How To Make A Deployment Survival Kit

I am in the camp of firm believers that military spouses and families can never have too much support (or wine. or chocolate.) during a deployment. So while I know there are a few blog posts and articles on "deployment survival kits" floating around the internet, I thought I'd add one more.

This one is easy to make and only requires you to pick up a few extra things on your regular grocery trip. Or liquor store run, in my case.

And if making an entire kit seems like too much to tackle, just taking a friend a drink or giving a hug or holding a baby or sharing some laughs can still mean a heckuva lot. So you don't have to do everything. Just do something.