Catch up

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone! I have not updated since we arrived in Arizona, because my parents' house did not have internet access. We finally got it today, after years of being in the dark ages, and so here I am!

I hope you all are enjoying your holiday season. In the spirit of being honest, I have to say, the holidays have unfortunately been the hardest, slowest, longest, and loneliest time of this deployment for me. I never would have guessed that being with Caroline and Rocky in the comfort of our Yucca Valley home would at times be easier than being surrounded by family and having a schedule packed with parties and activities, but it really is. When I am at home alone, sometimes I can almost convince myself that Greg is just at work for the day, and everything is normal. On a holiday, there is no pretending. The hole that is left by a deployment just rips open more and more when you are quite literally the odd man out.

Arizona has been particularly hard because this is where Greg and I come on many of our long weekends. We have developed a routine, mainly surrounding off leash golf course walks with Rocky, but being here without him and doing those walks is hard. As the vacation has moved on, however, I've started to enjoy these solitary moments, as I can think clearly and really just be with my two "kids" by myself. It's become the best part of my day, because of the peace and stillness is provides in an otherwise fast paced household (currently chock full with my parents, two sisters, and two brother in laws, not to mention R and C). I know in four months we will be back to normal, but it's just so hard. It's also been hard to feel like the courtesy pick for a kickball team. While my family happily hangs out with me, it's tiring always being the 3rd/5th/7th wheel. Cuddle in the jacuzzi with your significant other, next to me awkwardly by myself. Same thing at the dinner table. Or the Suns game. As fun as all of these activities are, again, they just magnify the hole that I can sometimes forget when I'm alone.

Something that has also being increasingly hard during this deployment is the shift in dynamic now that Caroline is here. I love her to death, of course, but (as people love to joke) when you have a baby, people stop caring about you and start caring about your kid. I know that's not really true, but on a very basic level, it's frustrating to feel like everyone comes up to me then bends down to pick up Caroline, ask how Caroline's doing, sleeping, and coping with deployment. When all I want is for people to ask ME those questions. Caroline is in capable, loving hands, but there are many times when I am just one snippy comment or compliment (goes both ways, strange) away from tearing up.

I'm not quite sure why I'm explaining this. It's very typical of a deployment, especially since we are stuck in the middle right now and it seems like Greg has been gone forever, and will never come back. What frustrates me more than anything about this is that I truly feel misunderstood. I know that's usually an adolescent term that's thrown around a lot, but quite literally, most people who I interact with do not understand the deployments, so they don't understand the sadness I feel, the loneliness I get sometimes, the need to be quiet and center myself, and just in general what I'm going through. So I've found that many people have sort of given up and gotten frustrated with me, and rightfully so, because they can't put themselves in my shoes. Moreover, most of the people I interact have never had the constant (joyful, tiring) chaos of having a dog and a baby. Combine that with a deployment and it's a true circus. But because I only know a handful of people (who are all USMC wives currently or formerly in 29 Palms, by the way) who have gone through this, it's extra difficult.

I can't wait until I am truly over the hump, but right now I just want to say thank you for all the support thus far, and please keep us in your thoughts and prayers now and in the near future. Deployments are always hard, and it's even harder feeling suspended in the middle of one.