I'm kidding. I love to talk about myself, and I'm pretty sure people like to hear about my fabulous life as well.
So here we go.
Justin is an active duty airman in the Air Force. In less than a year, we went from happy little couple living in a crappy one bedroom apartment in Lawrence.
|My very sunny Graduation Day, January 2007|
To a happy little couple that was now owned by the United States military.
|Basic Graduation, July 2007|
What I can't believe is how gross I look in January compared to July. Buzz's girlfirend...woof.
His job takes him away... a lot. Since 2010, he has been out of the country for six months of each year. I mean, I like the house to myself but this is just ridiculous. The other day I told him I miss doing life with him and he said, "This isn't a life, this is just surviving." Amen, brother.
It's hard on our family. Milo knows his daddy, and he will not hesitate to point out that he is gone. Almost every meal has a moment where he says, "This is where Dad is supposed to be." Thanks, son. I love being reminded we are short a member. He also told us that when he is a big he will go to work with his dad. Ugh, stop it Milo. We get it, you're cute AND you love your dad. Now quit making me cry.
Lucca has had two birthdays, and Justin has been somewhere far far away for both of them. Lu doesn't care, because she's two. But I know it hurts J to miss things like that. And honestly, I don't know what to do about this one. I guess I'll just cross my fingers and pray that he will be around for many birthdays to come.
Maybe I'm not the only military spouse you know. Maybe you know like 600 of them. And I'm sure you're sitting there thinking, "I wish I could help." You aren't? Well aren't you a little selfish.
But seriously, if you want to help, actually help. There is nothing single parents need more than an extra hand once and awhile. And by once and awhile I mean every day. Single-parenting is by far the most exhausting thing I have ever done, and it makes me feel for Farrah and the rest of those Teen Moms. Except for the ones that live at home and clearly only hold their children when there is a camera around. But back to what I was saying. Please don't offer help if you don't mean it. I already live with two house guests that are full of empty promises, I really don't need anymore to deal with.
Secondly, stop asking if I'm okay. Because I'm not. I will always say I am, and some of the time I might actually be. But most likely I have turned on auto-pilot and just trying to get through the day, the week, the month.
Until he comes home I will just, as Justin so appropriately said, survive. I carry him with me in every moment. Every sweet second with the kids, I imagine him there with me, admiring our handy work. Every time I catch them breaking something semi-important, I imagine him there with me contemplating adopting them out and starting fresh with a new set.
When I lay down at night, I imagine him there next to me. But as I'm falling asleep, I remember how much I don't like sharing a bed and suddenly I'm not so sad anymore.
Come home safe. Come home soon. I love you.