It's Only a Month

What a funny Navy community we live in. We are so anesthetized* to what a normal balance is, that we end up saying things like, "How long is your hubby deployed for? Wow, only four months. That's a quick one!" Like they've won the lottery. When Erik left again this past month for safety school down in Florida, I fell into the same trap. "It's only a month," were my words as I noncommittally** shrugged in conversation.

Here's the deal: I don't care if its four days or four months. One month or one year. Time away is time away. The main difference is how you approach it. 

My "I am deployment strong" ego has been leaking air the past couple weeks. A sad little balloon, deflated and wafting down a hallway, bouncing half mast. I knew Erik was leaving for a month. I knew he would miss Landon's birthday (again). I knew he would miss out on the kids' favorite holiday (again). I didn't know I'd stumble. I think when you are going into a huge deployment and work ups and stuff, you have compartmentalized*** and braced yourself. So this time I didn't do that because it is "only a month." 

So by the end of week one, power struggles and personalities were running amok. By the end of week two, I was crying more than I am willing to admit. But I am up and trying to control the reigns again; this has been a lesson well learned.  

Sea tour, shore tour, less tour, more tour. Solo parenting is for the birds. But if you build yourself a nice little nest ahead of time (by way of daily scheduling/consistency for the kids and a nice beer supply for mom), it is a little easier to take flight.

*Holy shit. I can't believe I spelled that correctly on the first try.
**Wow. Two for two on the hard words. Sign me up for a Spelling Bee!
***Not so lucky. Disenroll me from said Bee.