So. Like. Okay.
We just had all of the family come visit over the last two weeks, and while it was nice having people over and laughing and watching C freak out because people he didn’t know were looking at him, I AM SO GLAD IT IS OVER. I have two kids (three if you count my husband), and trying to keep my house from looking like “there appears to have been a struggle” for two weeks straight is impossible. I’d have better luck just lighting it on fire and roasting marshmallows in what used to be my bedroom.
In other news, my anxiety has shifted, and I’d like to thank Homeland for that. Because, you know, when your husband is about to deploy, watching a show about terrorists killing all of the people is definitely the way to go. Instead of being anxious about having to raise two kids solo, I’m now anxious about how I’m going to keep my husband alive from the other side of the world. Dumb, I know. I keep telling him to be brave — but don’t be an effing hero — but I won’t be there to make sure he follows through.
Other than that small hiccup, everything is okay. Really. And I wasn’t expecting that, because when you hear about spouses deploying, one of the shitty sides of it is the fighting over stupid crap increases exponentially. Something about it being easier to handle them leaving if you’re mad? I don’t know. At any rate, our relationship is going suspiciously well. No drama. No arguing. We are just a really well-oiled machine now. Great time to leave, asshat. (Computer didn’t autocorrect “asshat.” Score.)
M wants me to get his dad an Army cake for when he leaves. Excuse me while I go figure out what the hell that means.
Sleep is for Dads 