Not Today

We’re counting days now instead of months. And I’m not ready for him to come home. I’m just not ready.

I haven’t finished the basement. I haven’t organized the playroom. I haven’t finished the refi. It feels like I haven’t done anything.

It feels like all I’ve done is laundry and dishes and grocery shopping. Over and over. And over.

But I have hugged the kids. Over and over. And over.

And there was the half-marathon. And there was that little writing project that, well, kinda went viral. And there was that nonprofit-thingy.

And other things.

I’m horribly insecure about my failings and yet entrenched in what may be my own stupidity. I’m really dialed in to the well-worn track of my own complicated routine. I’m not ready for him to come here and retrace my steps and attempt to create efficiency out of chaos. I don’t want him to put me on an alternate track, even if it’s better. I don’t want him to tell me I’ve done it wrong while he’s been gone. Even if I have done it wrong. I’m not ready for that.

And I’ve developed bad habits, some he won’t tolerate well. I turn the TV on too loud to drown out the silence, sometimes. I spend too much time on the computer, sometimes. I escape from the kids by disappearing in the bathroom, sometimes. I drink wine with dinner too often. I kick and flip and toss and don’t sleep. I feel antisocial on Fridays at the end of the workweek. I use too much ketchup on the turkey burgers that I keep making even though I’m the only one that likes them. And I’m stupidly late, all the time. Too late. Too often.

And other things.

october 2011

October 2011: Tabula Rasa

I’m ready to look up past his chin toward his clear blue eyes and know that he remembers the real me. But I’ve changed a little too much for him to find me. I’m ready for him to get off the airplane, hold me in his arms tight, and promise me he’ll never leave for that long again. But he won’t be able to make the promises I want. I’m ready for him to sweep me off my feet and tell me we will live happily ever after. But happily ever after is a lot more work than that.

I’m not ready. Not today.


19 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Trackback: Happy Birthday from a Navy Spouse «
  2. The New Normal
    Sep 16, 2011 @ 09:50:53

    We are still months away from my husband coming home, but I’m already starting to feel exactly as you do. I feel like all I do is laundry, homework, cleaning…all the mundane things but nothing outstanding. And I too have developed those same habits! Thanks for making me feel “normal” at the moment – I felt bad for feeling not ready for him when he comes home, but I think we all go through that aprehension! Great words!
    Visiting from the Friday Fill-In (as well as a follower!) Have a great weekend! 🙂


  3. Kathy
    Sep 15, 2011 @ 16:49:34

    If anyone can make it through with minimum trauma, you and he can, Lori. Hugs.


  4. DogBoy
    Sep 14, 2011 @ 15:26:00

    Back to the marathon metaphor….you are tired, you worked so hard, you want to rest, you want to be cared for for all you have done, but you still have less than a mile…less than 10 more minutes of churning your burning aching legs. Done, but not finished. You know there will be pain in the days after, but it will be coupled with the thrill of accomplishment. The “ice bath” will help the aches and pains from the punishment you bestowed upon yourself. Now, you must figure out what is your “ice bath” going to be in non metaphor land…


  5. jenschwab
    Sep 14, 2011 @ 06:29:53

    I have, and it helps me understand his experiences and his frustrations in coming home…but reintegration still sucks dirt sometimes. All the understanding and preparation in the world doesn’t change the fact that it’s just plain weird, awkward, and riddled with tension and excitement in every minute to make a family out of two people who haven’t made joint decisions in a year.

    But it gets better. I’m almost at the point where I’m ready to write about it all. Had to let it marinate first.


  6. Amy
    Sep 13, 2011 @ 17:30:06

    I almost typed THIS:
    I haven’t finished the basement. I haven’t organized the playroom. I haven’t finished the refi. It feels like I haven’t done anything.

    It feels like all I’ve done is laundry and dishes and grocery shopping. Over and over. And over.

    Word for word on my blog post today. And my husband only goes to work every day.

    Big hugs and prayers always. So many adjustments and right when you get a new normal, it’s time to adjust again.


  7. Luise
    Sep 13, 2011 @ 14:11:36

    What you have done is amazing! It’ll feel weird for a little bit, but you will get your happily ever after, because you have the love to make it happen. After all, if we didn’t have some hard times we would not know how great happily ever after really is.


  8. deyank
    Sep 13, 2011 @ 13:37:27

    Hang in there, Lori. My wife is pulling for you. She spent my five tours of Vietnam learning how to cope, but forgetting in-between. It’s the in-between that makes it all worth while.


  9. Courtney Emken
    Sep 13, 2011 @ 13:13:56

    Big hugs from your Texas family. I think you’re doing GREAT, and I think you’re awesomeness is going to outshine the chaos. I am basking in your glow!


  10. Jenni Segura
    Sep 13, 2011 @ 13:13:41

    I soooo know how you feel. Everytime my husband comes back, I feel the same way. And sometimes it feels like it takes forever to get back in the groove again, be a family again, and then BAM! A new set of orders come down and here we go, AGAIN.
    Thanks so much for your blogs, I just recently came across them. And like you, hubby is with the Navy (Seabees). We’re currently on deployment #5, and our calendar countdown goes into October of next year, (he left on Memorial Day). If your hubby goes again, feel free to contact me.


  11. jenschwab
    Sep 13, 2011 @ 12:58:18

    I felt the very same way. My husband made it back about two weeks ago, and today I’m starting to feel a little more normal. You don’t have to be ready…because I don’t think it’s actually possible.


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