My husband has been in the Army since late March 2010. Let me count the times that I have actually seen him since then.
1. Three days at the end of May for boot camp graduation.
2. Four days at the end of June. (This was without our son.)
3. Two day weekend in September
4. Two weeks (roughly, I can't remember) at the end of September through the beginning of October.
5. Thirteen days at the end of December.
6. Six days in March of this year.
7. Sixteen days at the end of June through beginning of July.
So, roughly I have seen my husband for 58 days. That is at the most. The least I've seen him is 54 days. I know that the Army isn't fair. But where is the fairness in that?! I would have had five months added to that if people actually did their damned jobs here and got me the sponsorship to make it out to Germany beforehand.
I just don't know what it's like being an Army wife. I think maybe I have washed my husband's uniform at the most 3 times. Never seen him in class A's. Never got a chance to be woke up for a good-bye kiss before work. Never got a chance for my husband to come home after a long day and eat a meal. Never once have I heard about what he did all day at work, or watch him sit and relax after working. I've had to say good-bye seven times in the past sixteen months. And all those times, I didn't know when I was going to see him face to face again. I'm angry, emotional, and feel as though I'm being made an example of. I'm so sick of being alone. Every night I make dinner, knowing that my four year old will only have a few bites. I have a plate. Then it goes in the trash. I make dinner what seems like for no reason. At night, after the baby goes to bed, it's silence is so deafening I can barely stand it. I have crazy dreams. I get scared and anxious if I don't hear from him, either facebook messages, skype, or phone call, everyday. My nerves are shot. The only way I go to bed is when my arms, hands and toes start clenching and curling painfully out of fatigue. (That is a new stunt that started while he was actually home for a change.) It's sad, I consider it 'normal' when he's gone now. When I said my last goodbye, and finally got back home, I said out loud, "now we can get back to normal." How sad is that? What in the hell did I sign up for. None of my neighbors had to deal with this. I feel robbed, and cheated.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Lost
Ever feel that you are falling apart at the seams, but you just can't change it? That's where I am. For the past ten and a half months, I haven't been able to live. Living under someone else's roof is hard. Abiding by their rules, raising a three year old and trying to stay out of the way. Not able to say what's on your mind, in fear of any hostility.
For the past ten and a half months I have emotionally wanted to go home. Being with my husband is home. I have done everything under my power to be with him. It just isn't good enough for the Army. I have lost all faith in humanity, the Army, and God. Nothing I could ever do will be good enough. I have cried myself to sleep begging for God to please let me be with my husband since October. Why can't I just be with him? WHY?! I have less than a month until the d-word, and I don't think I will be able to hold him before he goes. That means another whole year without him. That will make it two years without him. It just doesn't seem fair. I played by the rules. I have been patient, entrusted that when my husband turned in the paperwork to the woman in Germany that it was all getting taken care of. Come to find out, in January, she literally did nothing since October and the paperwork was then given to another person. And here I sit, on Valentine's Day, alone. I have lived more poorly than any other person I think ever has. I have gone without so much, to ensure my husband has enough to live on, and the baby has what he needs. Who else lives off of $200 a month? And when you are with the military, that means $100 every 15 days or so. Now do that for the last ten and a half months of your life and check your mental stability then. In the meantime, you are living with other people, mocking and question you, and your parenting skills, and never getting a break.
I guess I really don't understand my husband. If it was me that was separated from my son and spouse I would be down at that office asking and questioning what is being done and what the hell is the damn hold up. I would camp that office like a store giving away a free 60" TV. My first thought would be to get down there and see if there was any good news that they were coming. And if there wasn't I would ask why, and who isn't doing their job. I feel like I'm being neglected from him, and the Army. Like me and the baby mean nothing, and that he really doesn't want to see us before he goes to the most dangerous place in the world. I don't understand why.
They say, 'if you want it done, you have to do it yourself." But there is nothing more I can really do from where I'm at. What am I suppose to do? Go see my congressman? I surely can't take my husband by the hand and make him go down there. And I'm two and a half hours away from the army base. I"m tired and I just want to get on with my life. Live in my own home. Raise my baby how I want. And make my husband our favorite meals before he deploys. I guess it's just asking too much. I have no feelings anymore. I'm high strung, angry and on the verge of tears from the second I wake up, until the second I go to bed. I'm just so tired of all of this. I want to go back from before the Army ransacked our lives. When everything was normal.
For the past ten and a half months I have emotionally wanted to go home. Being with my husband is home. I have done everything under my power to be with him. It just isn't good enough for the Army. I have lost all faith in humanity, the Army, and God. Nothing I could ever do will be good enough. I have cried myself to sleep begging for God to please let me be with my husband since October. Why can't I just be with him? WHY?! I have less than a month until the d-word, and I don't think I will be able to hold him before he goes. That means another whole year without him. That will make it two years without him. It just doesn't seem fair. I played by the rules. I have been patient, entrusted that when my husband turned in the paperwork to the woman in Germany that it was all getting taken care of. Come to find out, in January, she literally did nothing since October and the paperwork was then given to another person. And here I sit, on Valentine's Day, alone. I have lived more poorly than any other person I think ever has. I have gone without so much, to ensure my husband has enough to live on, and the baby has what he needs. Who else lives off of $200 a month? And when you are with the military, that means $100 every 15 days or so. Now do that for the last ten and a half months of your life and check your mental stability then. In the meantime, you are living with other people, mocking and question you, and your parenting skills, and never getting a break.
I guess I really don't understand my husband. If it was me that was separated from my son and spouse I would be down at that office asking and questioning what is being done and what the hell is the damn hold up. I would camp that office like a store giving away a free 60" TV. My first thought would be to get down there and see if there was any good news that they were coming. And if there wasn't I would ask why, and who isn't doing their job. I feel like I'm being neglected from him, and the Army. Like me and the baby mean nothing, and that he really doesn't want to see us before he goes to the most dangerous place in the world. I don't understand why.
They say, 'if you want it done, you have to do it yourself." But there is nothing more I can really do from where I'm at. What am I suppose to do? Go see my congressman? I surely can't take my husband by the hand and make him go down there. And I'm two and a half hours away from the army base. I"m tired and I just want to get on with my life. Live in my own home. Raise my baby how I want. And make my husband our favorite meals before he deploys. I guess it's just asking too much. I have no feelings anymore. I'm high strung, angry and on the verge of tears from the second I wake up, until the second I go to bed. I'm just so tired of all of this. I want to go back from before the Army ransacked our lives. When everything was normal.
Friday, January 28, 2011
My chances have greatly improved.
Finally! Finally there is some good news! My labs are back! Which means, come Tuesday, Gerry will have his evaluation done by speech therapy and everything will be complete. This has given me such hope, such promise that I can see my husband before deployment. This is the first time, since October, that I have been really happy on the inside. To know that I can see him, gives me such a great joy, no words could even compete.
Gerry had seen the speech therapist on Thursday. He did really well. A little better than maybe I had planned. She said that Gerry says all of the consonants and vowels correctly, but sometimes mistakes letters. For example, he will say 'take' instead of 'cake'. He scored a 79 on the testing. Normal starts at 86, and it goes all the way to 115. His case is mild-moderate, but leans more toward the mild side. I"m excited. They also said his understanding skills were exemplary. He knows and understands more than children his age. That was some pretty cool news. Speech therapy twice a week, Tuesday's and Friday's until we leave. Which could be as early as next week. I'm so excited! So grateful, and so happy.
We're coming baby!
Pepsimama19
Gerry had seen the speech therapist on Thursday. He did really well. A little better than maybe I had planned. She said that Gerry says all of the consonants and vowels correctly, but sometimes mistakes letters. For example, he will say 'take' instead of 'cake'. He scored a 79 on the testing. Normal starts at 86, and it goes all the way to 115. His case is mild-moderate, but leans more toward the mild side. I"m excited. They also said his understanding skills were exemplary. He knows and understands more than children his age. That was some pretty cool news. Speech therapy twice a week, Tuesday's and Friday's until we leave. Which could be as early as next week. I'm so excited! So grateful, and so happy.
We're coming baby!
Pepsimama19
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Childhood
Remember when you were a kid and nothing really mattered? I remember when I was young, my older brother said to me, you may wish you were grown-up, but when you get here, you'll wish that you were a kid again. I didn't believe him. He is ten and a half years older than me. So if he told me this when I was ten, he was twenty going on twenty-one.
My childhood was awesome. I wish I could go back to that care-free lifestyle again. I grew up in Las Vegas. The summer's were excruciating. I just cannot remember a day that I wasn't outside though. I LIVED on my bike. When I was younger, I had the coolest girly bike around. It was blue and pink. I had huge handlebars, to give my friends rides. It had a banana seat, and these fenders over the tires. I was a stunt-man on that bike too! I would ride up the long row of houses as fast as I could slam backwards to put on the brakes and leaves skid marks that would be houses long. I learned how to ride a bike with no training wheels by four. I learned how to ride with no hands, and learned how to go put my feet up on the handlebars and "relax" down the neighborhood. I learned how to ride my bike, jump off and run next to it, then jump back on my bike without missing a step. My friend had a half pipe in the driveway of his house, I would be on that a lot. And when he wasn't home, we would make our own ramps out of scrap wood laying around. I had another friend farther down the street, who didn't play with the rest of the gang. I would go there every once in a while. We would play cops and robbers, and eat "astronaut" ice cream, and just do the most odd things. He was that one friend that collected snakes, tarantulas and lizards. If they died, I would help him bury them. We would often jump his back concrete wall into a bike heaven. It was still an undeveloped area in Las Vegas. Still is, but now it's all covered and not fun. There was 'real' danger here. broken wood. A giant jump that was all dirt and about 10 high. Pipes, rusty nails. You name it. It was one of those areas that, if you got hurt, you didn't tell your parents. You didn't go home crying, because that would end all the fun.
I got back in touch with a best friend of my childhood again. Angelina. I sincerely doubt that she would ever read this. Anyway, there was a picture on her facebook of her in a tree. She was the friend that was the tree-climber. We were always climbing trees together. Taking risks of jumping down from the trees. There was a picture of her, all grown up now, in this tree, just sitting there. As though she is deep in thought. That's what inspired this blog. It reminded me of when I was a kid, if there was something on my mind, I would climb a tree and sit there until things started making sense again. (yup that's the actual photo)
I wish I could go back to the time, where sitting in a tree to figure things out was just part of the norm. I wish life was as simple as it is through the eyes of the child. Maybe everyone should climb trees more often and just sit. Or ride a bike until your legs fell off. When sundown meant time to go home and eat dinner. When life was about being lived, without the worry of someone else watching you. Waiting for you to mess up. When life was about learning and doing what you think is right and not following protocol. I leave with this: What can you do, in your life, to bring back the care-free lifestyle of a child?
My childhood was awesome. I wish I could go back to that care-free lifestyle again. I grew up in Las Vegas. The summer's were excruciating. I just cannot remember a day that I wasn't outside though. I LIVED on my bike. When I was younger, I had the coolest girly bike around. It was blue and pink. I had huge handlebars, to give my friends rides. It had a banana seat, and these fenders over the tires. I was a stunt-man on that bike too! I would ride up the long row of houses as fast as I could slam backwards to put on the brakes and leaves skid marks that would be houses long. I learned how to ride a bike with no training wheels by four. I learned how to ride with no hands, and learned how to go put my feet up on the handlebars and "relax" down the neighborhood. I learned how to ride my bike, jump off and run next to it, then jump back on my bike without missing a step. My friend had a half pipe in the driveway of his house, I would be on that a lot. And when he wasn't home, we would make our own ramps out of scrap wood laying around. I had another friend farther down the street, who didn't play with the rest of the gang. I would go there every once in a while. We would play cops and robbers, and eat "astronaut" ice cream, and just do the most odd things. He was that one friend that collected snakes, tarantulas and lizards. If they died, I would help him bury them. We would often jump his back concrete wall into a bike heaven. It was still an undeveloped area in Las Vegas. Still is, but now it's all covered and not fun. There was 'real' danger here. broken wood. A giant jump that was all dirt and about 10 high. Pipes, rusty nails. You name it. It was one of those areas that, if you got hurt, you didn't tell your parents. You didn't go home crying, because that would end all the fun.
I got back in touch with a best friend of my childhood again. Angelina. I sincerely doubt that she would ever read this. Anyway, there was a picture on her facebook of her in a tree. She was the friend that was the tree-climber. We were always climbing trees together. Taking risks of jumping down from the trees. There was a picture of her, all grown up now, in this tree, just sitting there. As though she is deep in thought. That's what inspired this blog. It reminded me of when I was a kid, if there was something on my mind, I would climb a tree and sit there until things started making sense again. (yup that's the actual photo)
I wish I could go back to the time, where sitting in a tree to figure things out was just part of the norm. I wish life was as simple as it is through the eyes of the child. Maybe everyone should climb trees more often and just sit. Or ride a bike until your legs fell off. When sundown meant time to go home and eat dinner. When life was about being lived, without the worry of someone else watching you. Waiting for you to mess up. When life was about learning and doing what you think is right and not following protocol. I leave with this: What can you do, in your life, to bring back the care-free lifestyle of a child?
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Water in the ears.
Be sincere; be brief; be seated. Franklin D. Roosevelt
Every night since October 5th, I have prayed to be with my husband. Every 11:11 and falling star I have wished to get to Germany. Every night, I prayed to God, "please let me get to my husband, and please let him stay safe during his deployment. I am not exceptionally religious. When I was a child, my parents would take me to church on Sunday's. I attended Sunday school. I believed that there was someone, somewhere watching over me and protecting me in some way. My brother and I was baptized at the same church. One day, my Mom was asked to leave and not come back. They laughed at a guy crying, apparently during the whole sermon. That, I believe, is when I started to lose faith. When I really started to question why a person of God would deny a lamb to be with their flock. I questioned why someone who would divorce to not enter Heaven. I know some family members back when I was a child who were divorced and not being allowed into Heaven. Why would God allow such good people be put to Hell. My mom divorced her first husband. My father who also is divorced. That would mean my parents would not be with me when I die? Why? I do take what some of the bible says seriously, the divorce thing for one. Honor thy Mother and Father. And although they have hurt me in the past, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to them when I was mad at them. I do believe your actions will make you suffer in the long run. I would often read "the footprints" plaque my mom had and often thought of when I die, will they show how often only one set of prints were pressed into the sand? Based just on the last ten years, there will be a lot of "one set of footprints".
I lost my faith a while ago. The pain I went through as a teenager, I think God had lost faith in me. He left me behind. I struggle now to find religion. The correct religion. The religion where God actually listens to me.
I would say last year, I started to find God again. I read the first book, "Left Behind" in the Left Behind series. It really opened my eyes. It is a semi-religious book. Had I had known that it was a book with God content in it, I probably wouldn't have picked it up. It captured me, it lured me in. They say when you come to a point in your search to ask God for a sign that he's here. I asked him, and I do believe he gave me a sign. He has given me several signs that someone is watching me. I just hope whoever it is, that they love me and answer my prayers, instead of doing the opposite to my prayers.
Last night, I did my ritual of setting up the couch bed and laying down and watching the last bit of tv before I turn the room pitch black. When the room turns dark, I start my praying the exact same way: "Dear God, please let me be with my husband. I miss him so much. Please God, let me be with my husband, I am so tired of sleeping alone. Please God, let me go to Germany before he deploys. Please God, please? Please God, keep him safe when he deploys. Please God, keep him safe." During all this I cry like a little baby. I actually cried so hard last night that the tears streamed directly into my ears. It was like having water in your ears when you swim. I actually had to sit up and shake it out, they way you do when you swim. haha. After praying like this since October 5th, I'm starting to lose faith again. Why aren't my prayers getting answered? Am I not praying right? Was I left behind again. I feel so defeated. So tired.
Now, go have a Pepsi, it'll make you feel better.
Pepsimama
Every night since October 5th, I have prayed to be with my husband. Every 11:11 and falling star I have wished to get to Germany. Every night, I prayed to God, "please let me get to my husband, and please let him stay safe during his deployment. I am not exceptionally religious. When I was a child, my parents would take me to church on Sunday's. I attended Sunday school. I believed that there was someone, somewhere watching over me and protecting me in some way. My brother and I was baptized at the same church. One day, my Mom was asked to leave and not come back. They laughed at a guy crying, apparently during the whole sermon. That, I believe, is when I started to lose faith. When I really started to question why a person of God would deny a lamb to be with their flock. I questioned why someone who would divorce to not enter Heaven. I know some family members back when I was a child who were divorced and not being allowed into Heaven. Why would God allow such good people be put to Hell. My mom divorced her first husband. My father who also is divorced. That would mean my parents would not be with me when I die? Why? I do take what some of the bible says seriously, the divorce thing for one. Honor thy Mother and Father. And although they have hurt me in the past, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to them when I was mad at them. I do believe your actions will make you suffer in the long run. I would often read "the footprints" plaque my mom had and often thought of when I die, will they show how often only one set of prints were pressed into the sand? Based just on the last ten years, there will be a lot of "one set of footprints".
I lost my faith a while ago. The pain I went through as a teenager, I think God had lost faith in me. He left me behind. I struggle now to find religion. The correct religion. The religion where God actually listens to me.
I would say last year, I started to find God again. I read the first book, "Left Behind" in the Left Behind series. It really opened my eyes. It is a semi-religious book. Had I had known that it was a book with God content in it, I probably wouldn't have picked it up. It captured me, it lured me in. They say when you come to a point in your search to ask God for a sign that he's here. I asked him, and I do believe he gave me a sign. He has given me several signs that someone is watching me. I just hope whoever it is, that they love me and answer my prayers, instead of doing the opposite to my prayers.
Last night, I did my ritual of setting up the couch bed and laying down and watching the last bit of tv before I turn the room pitch black. When the room turns dark, I start my praying the exact same way: "Dear God, please let me be with my husband. I miss him so much. Please God, let me be with my husband, I am so tired of sleeping alone. Please God, let me go to Germany before he deploys. Please God, please? Please God, keep him safe when he deploys. Please God, keep him safe." During all this I cry like a little baby. I actually cried so hard last night that the tears streamed directly into my ears. It was like having water in your ears when you swim. I actually had to sit up and shake it out, they way you do when you swim. haha. After praying like this since October 5th, I'm starting to lose faith again. Why aren't my prayers getting answered? Am I not praying right? Was I left behind again. I feel so defeated. So tired.
Now, go have a Pepsi, it'll make you feel better.
Pepsimama
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I'm finally seeing a little light.
"It's not whether you get knocked down, it's whether you get up." Vince Lombardi
It seems as though I am in middle of the tunnel. I can see a small pin-prick of light now. I received a call yesterday that gave me some hope into Germany. I have to get some papers re-signed. I have to get a physical and some lab work. I'm still waiting on the paperwork to be emailed to me. I have an appointment on Tuesday. They said that the baby needs to see a speech therapist for an evaluation and to start up whatever program they put him on. Possible three consecutive visits before we can be cleared for proverbial take-off. My only hope is that I can get out to Germany before March. March is when the real test can begin. A test I don't even want to think about at the moment. I hope "the grass isn't always greener on the other side" doesn't imply Germany. I love my husband and I just want to be with him. I'm excited to see some movement.
I was reading today on http://www.education.com/reference/article/Ref_Social_Emotional_End/ that my son is doing everything he needs to be doing at three years old. A lot of the things he cleared on the four year old and five year old levels as well. This made me so happy, and a burden was lifted off my shoulders. He is behind on his speech, so some of the skills mentioned on the language aspect were not accomplished by my son. That is okay with me. Just knowing that I'm doing a good job, at least based off of that website, makes me feel like the greatest mom ever. Some people disagree with how I raise him, and what I'm doing, but I also have to take in stride that these people raised their kids before I was born, or don't even have children. Yes, my son plays Super Nintendo, and passes levels on Super Mario World with a breeze. Yes, my son plays games on Nickjr.com, and on the Disney website. Those games on the Disney website are hard too. Some of them I can't even do. I watch my son play Dino Dan online and he builds dinosaurs from the fossils like he's been doing it all of his life. I asked him one day, "how did you know how to do that?" he said it was easy. He amazes me. And yes, I will say, my son plays WoW. I watch him closely. The game isn't violent as many people may think. And to think that people would actually think I would allow my kid to play anything violent absolutely offends me. He flies around town on my dragon. Maybe kills a wolf or two. He doesn't last long on the game before he's wanting me to put up nick games. He doesn't play all day long, and is only allowed to play if he eats all of his dinner. (which is a very rare occurrence) This won't last for much longer. He's getting to that age where his memory is going to start to develop and I don't want him later on boasting that he was playing before he could remember. I never force my son to sit and learn this or that. I want him to love learning. To force a child to sit and learn will only take you so far. Today I watched him open up his flash cards of the alphabet and look at the letter and flip the card and stare at the picture. I sat with him and told him big A, and little a. So on and so forth. He can't say letters, but he knows what they are. I"m sure of it.
"The secret in education lies in respecting the student."Ralph Waldo Emerson
It seems as though I am in middle of the tunnel. I can see a small pin-prick of light now. I received a call yesterday that gave me some hope into Germany. I have to get some papers re-signed. I have to get a physical and some lab work. I'm still waiting on the paperwork to be emailed to me. I have an appointment on Tuesday. They said that the baby needs to see a speech therapist for an evaluation and to start up whatever program they put him on. Possible three consecutive visits before we can be cleared for proverbial take-off. My only hope is that I can get out to Germany before March. March is when the real test can begin. A test I don't even want to think about at the moment. I hope "the grass isn't always greener on the other side" doesn't imply Germany. I love my husband and I just want to be with him. I'm excited to see some movement.
I was reading today on http://www.education.com/reference/article/Ref_Social_Emotional_End/ that my son is doing everything he needs to be doing at three years old. A lot of the things he cleared on the four year old and five year old levels as well. This made me so happy, and a burden was lifted off my shoulders. He is behind on his speech, so some of the skills mentioned on the language aspect were not accomplished by my son. That is okay with me. Just knowing that I'm doing a good job, at least based off of that website, makes me feel like the greatest mom ever. Some people disagree with how I raise him, and what I'm doing, but I also have to take in stride that these people raised their kids before I was born, or don't even have children. Yes, my son plays Super Nintendo, and passes levels on Super Mario World with a breeze. Yes, my son plays games on Nickjr.com, and on the Disney website. Those games on the Disney website are hard too. Some of them I can't even do. I watch my son play Dino Dan online and he builds dinosaurs from the fossils like he's been doing it all of his life. I asked him one day, "how did you know how to do that?" he said it was easy. He amazes me. And yes, I will say, my son plays WoW. I watch him closely. The game isn't violent as many people may think. And to think that people would actually think I would allow my kid to play anything violent absolutely offends me. He flies around town on my dragon. Maybe kills a wolf or two. He doesn't last long on the game before he's wanting me to put up nick games. He doesn't play all day long, and is only allowed to play if he eats all of his dinner. (which is a very rare occurrence) This won't last for much longer. He's getting to that age where his memory is going to start to develop and I don't want him later on boasting that he was playing before he could remember. I never force my son to sit and learn this or that. I want him to love learning. To force a child to sit and learn will only take you so far. Today I watched him open up his flash cards of the alphabet and look at the letter and flip the card and stare at the picture. I sat with him and told him big A, and little a. So on and so forth. He can't say letters, but he knows what they are. I"m sure of it.
"The secret in education lies in respecting the student."Ralph Waldo Emerson
Monday, January 10, 2011
Let's get to reality.
Even a clock that does not work is right twice a day. ~Polish Proverb
Well, lets get down to the nitty-gritty. I am an Army wife. Or at least, that's what they say. I became an Army wife on March 23, 2010. That was the day my husband left for basic training and to be sworn in. I still do not feel like an Army wife. He passed through basic with no problems. Basic training is for soldiers, yes. It is also, for the wives and mothers. It's a right of passage Per Se. The only time you heard from them is through letters. Once every three weeks we were lucky enough to get a phone call. I am sure that my fellow Echo wives would agree we were scared to be left with the children alone. To be taught to do everything ourselves and to be, as they say, Army Strong. I had no faith in myself that I could do it. A few days after he left for boot, I went back to my hometown of Las Vegas to live with my in-laws. When I look back now, I should have never went back. I wish I would have had more confidence in myself. Las Vegas backfired in the worst way possible. And honestly, if my brother and father didn't live there, I probably would never go back.
I don't feel like an Army wife. After boot camp, my husband proceeded to his job training. We talked constantly on the phone. The sound of his voice is what really carried me on some days. The day I found out we were going to Germany was the greatest day of 2010. I thought to myself, 'finally, we can just be a family. Just us. No outside intruders telling us how to raise a kid, or what we are doing is wrong. Finally we can become the family we should be.' I did all my paperwork they told me to do. I had to go to an Air-Force base to complete the paperwork for the military. I had everything done and on-time. I was proud of myself. I jumped through all the hoops, I obeyed every command given to me. I am accomplished. I faxed everything back to my husband with a week to spare. They give us more paperwork, I get that done just in the nick of time. My husband makes an appointment to turn it in. The appointment date is our anniversary, September 9th. On that day, I am on the road, heading back to my starting point, Utica, NY. He calls me and says, "the woman in the office that made the appointment didn't show up. I have bad news, that means they are going to start my out-processing paperwork and you will not be on orders with me for Germany. But don't worry all that needs to happen is when I get out to Germany all they need to do is sign it off and you can come out there." By the way, this was the same phone call that announced the deployment. Happy anniversary to me. Leaving my hometown, no Germany orders, and a deployment. My husband came home after graduated his job-training. A few weeks later, I watched him get on a plane to Germany. Our son and I cried the whole way home.
I still don't feel like an Army wife. The paperwork is messed up. My husband got to Germany in October. We found out the paperwork I worked so hard for, is messed up. It has taken over three months. They lost the paperwork, and as of last week it was re-submitted. I won't feel like a bona-fide Army wife until I get to Germany and live on a base. Every night I pray to God, plead with God, cry myself to sleep wishing and begging to get out there. I just want to be with my husband before he deploys. Why, someone please tell me, why this is such a difficult request. My heart is absolutely broken every night I go to sleep alone. I have seen my husband for 27 days since March 23, 2010. Three of those months were unnecessary separation.
Now go have a Pepsi, it'll make you feel better.
Pepsimama
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