On Sunday night, the kids and I packed ourselves into the van with the husband, his sea bag, a guitar, and a few towels to catch the vomit that Spawnling #1 decided to spew forth (see previous post on military medicine). By 11pm, we sat in front of the USS Nimitz, the next aircraft carrier to deploy to the Persian Gulf. We kissed, said goodbye, and watched as husband walked towards the ship.
We won't see him until this fall, if we're lucky. I'm hoping he'll be home on schedule, but there's no guarantee, especially as my new arch nemesis Ahmadenijad starts twirling his man parts in a game of Who's Got The Bigger Dick. Either way, it's pretty certain that husband will have about three or so months at home before they deploy for
yet another 6+ month deployment in January.
Have I mentioned yet that IAs (where they send our servicemembers into Iraq and Afghanistan) are virtually a
when and no longer an
if in his community? He's past due for one, and it will probably be a year-long adventure, which means 14 months away from home total.
[spewage] This is complete bullshit. If not for the posturing of a yee-haw cowboy wannabe who seems to have gotten his education from Texas public schools, we wouldn't be in this position. Don't get your panties twisted. I'm the product of a Texas public education, and I know my kind when I see them. [/spewage]
Let's do some calendar calculations. Since husband checked in, I would guesstimate he's spent two full months at home. Of course, "at home" doesn't take into account long days and late nights, beeper duty when he's pulled away on a call (thank goodness for usually only an hour max) or has to go in for turnover on a weekend. All the inconveniences aside, we've been in San Diego since September. He left the day after we received our shipment (and have I mentioned the house full of boxes with two small ones? all by my lonesome? yeah) for a five-week underway. And it didn't stop. The underways have been aggregiously frequent and abhorrently long at times, so when he does return, his own sons don't always recognize him or even feel comfortable being left alone with him. It's horribly sad.
While he's gone on this deployment, he'll miss Spawnling #1's third birthday. He'll miss their first swim lessons. If the deployment is extended, he's likely to miss the second Halloween running (Spawnling #2's second.. which means Daddy has never witnessed the joy of that child's experience at Halloween) and possibly the same child's second birthday. During the second deployment starting next winter, husband will end up missing Spawnling #1's fourth birthday. Then if he goes on an IA next fall for a year (which is likely), he'll miss Spawnling #2's third birthday, another Halloween, a Yule/Christmas, Spawnling #1's fifth birthday, then another round of Halloween (oh, and I've forgotten Thanksgiving here, too), Spawnling #2's fourth birthday, and possibly another Christmas/Yule. How's that for hunky dory?
So we have begun Deployment, Part I. The worst thing I'm dealing with right now is the prospect of doing the parent thing alone for the next six months, plus the not knowing bit, plus having already concocted plans for the fall, including the 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk here in San Diego and a workshop I'd really been looking forward to... and I don't know if I'm going to be able to do any of it now. The second worst thing is the trite responses from family, friends, acquaintances, etc, including such pearls of wisdom as:
- The time will fly by! He'll be home before you know it.
- You're strong. You'll get through it just fine.
- At least the kids are young enough they probably won't remember this.
It's even worse when these comments come from the husband himself.
