Thirty Days

I think Lilyana might be watching her Bible videos too often.  She asked me if Lazarus would be coming to Katie’s birthday party.  The other morning she told me her teddy bear didn’t feel good.  She told me he has leprosy.

The ticking of the clock on the wall and the calendar don’t bother me anymore.  They are both packed up in a box.  We are near the thirty day mark.  Boxes have appeared in nearly every room and reality is setting in.  For reasons beyond any human understanding we have decided to move ourselves. (Well, you other Army people know why) The Army calls it a DITY move.  “Do It Yourself” move…or “I guess you have forgotten that the Army will do this for you and that your small children will make this an impossible feat” move. 

   

Things are getting very hard.  I really can’t think of a good way to describe it but it was good to hear Whitney singing the national anthem over and over this week.

This situation happens all over the country I imagine.  In many houses people cry and wait for daddy.  I don’t know, maybe they don’t cry.  This story isn’t special it’s just mine.  It’s how this is changing MY family.  The last time my neighbor went without her hubby she had three little ones, home schools and he was gone for over a year.  A young friend finds out she is miscarrying but her husband isn’t there to hold her.  A girlfriend comes over and her five year old has a melt down and cries for daddy when Mommy scolds her.  It’s everywhere.  A heaviness.  The knowledge that things just aren’t meant to be this way. 

I am by no means a seasoned Army wife.  We have being living a dream because John has been home for a solid year.  To me, it doesn’t matter if he’s two hours away in training or on the other side of the world, gone is gone.  The last time he was gone for an extended period of time it wasn’t this hard mostly because he was originally slotted to be home in three months.  It was extended to 14 months.  I am told it doesn’t get easier.  I hope that it does.  At least when the girls are older I can explain that Daddy didn’t just vanish.  Right?  Anyone?

I will miss living here near other wives.  Other women who know that it’s Friday night but you have nothing to do.  Women who know how exhausted and lonely you are.  Women who can laugh about subjects most people avoid.   Women who can speak in acronyms. 

When I was packing I came across a stack of letters he wrote me last time.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder.  I still think there’s something special about getting a letter that e-mail doesn’t have.  I told hubby last night that I know when God created me he knew all this was coming.  God knew I was going to be an Army wife.  Why didn’t he make me stronger?  I think we were the only couple in Carrabas getting teared up on Valentines day.  The other couples looked happier. 

Me:  I feel like someone is dying.

Hubby: Yes, you’ve said that before.

There are other things I haven’t said.  Things I know he thinks about but I don’t want to confirm his concerns.  My Mom reminds me that things will not be as bad as I think.  I know that’s true.  I’ll get settled, stay busy and try not to stare at the calendar.  Again. 

I see Katie waddling to him at her top speed when he comes home from work.  Lilyana calls down to him at bedtime “I loooooove you Daddy” and I feel like I was just punched in the gut. 

We will go my Mom’s in about three weeks and he will leave a couple days later.  He will be gone for five months, we will see him for three weeks, and then he will be gone a year.  In total, about 18 months. 

18 months.

When I was pregnant with Katie and we talked about the future we thought about how fun it would be when the girls are two and four.  Two was such a great age.  We thought that would be a really sweet time.   Now, it's a time he will totally miss.  Lilyana will be almost five when he gets back.

I probably won’t post another blog until he’s gone.  It’s just too hard and would just be more depressing rambling.  Keep us in your prayers but pray mostly for him.  I can’t imagine how much he will miss the girls.  He would go to the end of the earth for these girls, actually, I guess he is doing just that.  That just occurred to me as I am typing. 

We had a yard sale today trying to sift out what we don’t need and get rid of some baby stuff.  When someone drove away with the last major baby item I started to cry.  Lilyana saw a tear falling beneath my sunglasses.

Lilyana ”awwww, what’s wrong Mommy?” (she pats me)

Me: “Well, I’m just sad thinking about Daddy leaving on his trip”

Lilyana “oh Mommy, it will be ok,”

She walks away and comes back with her teddy bear and hands him to me.

“This will make you feel better Mommy”

Good thing Jesus healed him.  Leprosy is highly contagious J


But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory and the lifter of my head
Psalm 3:3

Two small kids - A recipe for insanity

John came home about 7 pm tonight.  He walked up the stairs to find all three of us in the hallway in various states of undress and completely soaked.  “Hey guys”  It’s his complete lack of alarm or shock that describes the last year of my life.  Life as usual around here now.  Katie is almost one.  There is a reason most people have kids in their twenties.

I have concluded that people who have children less than three years apart

a.       Don’t know where babies come from

b.      Are clinically insane

c.       Weren’t expecting to be able to have any (that’s us)

I think mothers of children in that category are in a special club that other women can’t understand. 

We usually always leave the house covered in crackers

Or someone’s bodily fluid of some sort

We cry at any given moment

We live on coffee

We slump around in a constant state of sleep depravation

We rarely get to sleep in our own bed.

We know that all that matters is that everyone is full and had a bath...usually.  Everything else can wait.

We never take showers during the day

It’s that last one that led to my most recent bout of insanity.  I have no idea what came over me but I decided to take a shower during the day while both girls were awake.  Madness I tell you. 

“Lilyana, I am locking the bedroom door.  You and Katie don’t leave my bedroom for any reason.  And yell if she is eating something”

Things started out well.  Katie was trying to climb in the shower and was slowing getting soaked.  Lilyana yells “I need to go potty”  (Why does she still feel she needs to announce it?)  She sits down and then says “Mommy GET HER!”  Katie was, as usual, reaching around Lilyana trying to stick her hands down in the toilet.  “aaaahhhhh” “Poop Mommy!” she yells.  Cue my running across the bathroom soaking wet to grab Katie.  I stripped her down and put her in the shower with me.  I then realized I couldn’t use my soap on her because of her eczema and I sent Lilyana down the hall to get Katie’s soap.  Lilyana slid across the bathroom floor and returned with the correct soap, a miracle.  Holding on to a baby covered in lotion and Crisco was impossible when she was wet.  Yep, Crisco.  Refer back to eczema and remember that you shouldn’t judge.  I then noticed Lilyana was getting undressed “I want to get in the shower too Mommy”  I grabbed a towel for Katie and went trudging down the hall dripping all the way to her room.  It was then that hubby walked up the stairs.  “I’m running away” I told him.  “Going streaking?” he asks.

I look at Lilyana now and think how much easier it would have been if Katie was born now, when Lilyana is three.  But God continues to overestimate how much I can handle and that wasn’t his plan.

At the mall a couple months ago Lilyana was being particularly energetic.  We use the “family” bathroom.  It’s easier because it has a little potty, big potty and a changing table.  We’re all covered.  Lilyana does her thing and I help her wash up from head to toe.  “Now remember, don’t touch anything”  Katie had an explosion and I only had one wipe left.  Why does it always happen that way?  I was cleaning up Katie, who had started screaming that her lunch was late, and I noticed Lilyana was making a weird echoing noise behind me.  I turned around to see her grabbing the toilet seat, leaning her head down towards the water and saying “aaagggghhh” then moving to the other toilet to repeat.  I think I blacked out but I’m pretty sure I screamed.  I washed her down all over again.  “Are you going to cry Mommy?” she asked.  “Yes, I think so” I said.  We recovered and made our way down to Chick-fil-a.  While waiting it line it suddenly hit me, I left my wedding rings on the bathroom counter.  I said it out loud apparently.  The Chick-fil-A lady took one look at my crew and I guess she knew I wouldn’t make it in time.  “Which bathroom?” she asked and started out in a full sprint.  I caught up with her as she came out of the bathroom with my rings.  A miracle.  Have I mentioned that I love Chick-fil-a?

When Katie was about 7 weeks old I had to go to the doctor for a small procedure.  Just getting us all out the door was an enormous accomplishment.  Lilyana was just recently potty trained.  I waited almost an hour in the lobby.  Katie started to get hungry.  Now, both my girls had to be on special formulas for babies allergic to…everything.  I reached in the diaper bag to get a bottle and I was horrified to discover that I had forgotten her formula.  I couldn’t imagine repeating this insane scenario if I had to leave and reschedule my appointment.  I asked the receptionist.  “Is there any chance you have some formula here”  They did.  Of course, it was regular formula.  I knew Katie wasn’t going to be in any danger from drinking it but she and I would both have a long day.  I gave her the formula.  Remember, don’t judge.  While feeding Katie, Lilyana announced she needed to go potty.  I put Katie in the infant carrier, in the stroller and moved towards the bathroom.  I held the bottle in Katie’s mouth with one hand and held Lilyana’s hand with the other so she wouldn’t fall in the toilet.  Twenty minutes later I was lying down on the examination table with Katie lying on my stomach giving her the bottle with one hand and trying to keep Lilyana in a chair up near my head with the other hand.  If what the doctor did to my leg hurt me, I don’t remember.  I swear I will remember that day when I am eighty.

I’m sure stories like this are not exclusive to me.  I imagine that all Moms of little ones have these things happen…at least I hope so.  I never in my life thought it was possible to be this tired.  I have been changing diapers for over three years solid.  I wonder if I will ever get to wake up in the morning and shower again.  What will it be like to put on makeup without someone climbing my leg?  Will I ever get to sit down while we eat dinner again?  Imagine if we all used full size forks and were able to dress ourselves.  One day I will again carry a purse and my van won’t be full or rattles and cheerios.  The irony is that then, I will probably miss these days.  Maybe.

Tonight as I was changing for bed a piece of cheddar cheese fell out of my shirt.  I can think of no better way to describe this phase of my life but I remind myself that for years I prayed this would happen and we are so blessed.