This morning the kids and I said "see you soon" to Quentin again. We have become accustom to our see you soons being at the base cafe or the pier. Those always felt so cold and without emotion, even though the sadness and love was so thick in the air. I would have given anything to have done out see you soons outside that dumpy cafe today. Standing on the sidewalk at the airport departure door was worse than the cafe. I couldn't help but feel resentment in that moment as I watched couples hug and get teary-eyed, only to hear one say "I'll see you in a week."
The one thing I hated most about the cafe see you soons is how close it is to our house. I could watch from our kitchen window as the buses pulled away. For days after, I would glance out the window in hopes of see the buses come back, just in case they had made some mistake and it wasn't really time for them to go back out the sea. Although that never happened (even if there had been a mistake, I am pretty sure the Navy would never admit it and would keep the guys just so they don't have to admit they messed up), it was always a little comforting to go grab a sexy coffee after saying see you soon and seeing familiar faces, normally with mascara on their cheeks too and knowing you were part of a big family. And even when you were the only one ordering coffee while trying your damnedest not to cry, you were not the first one to do it and would promptly be given a reassuring smile or a hug. There is none of that at airport see you soons.
Another shitty thing about airport see you soons is how far away it is from Target. I am sure there are several Targets between the airport and our home, but they aren't my Target. Retail therapy always helps those first few days. I always pick up a little something to make the house feel more homey. I know that a few new baskets won't fill void, but it helps a bit and who doesn't like new baskets?
So far the kids are doing remarkably well. I am sure in a few months when we are used to getting prepared for homecomings, only to not yet be half way done it will hit us all like a ton of bricks. But for today, we are going to curl up on the couch, watch movies and be ok.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Homecoming...
I have to admit that one of my guilty pleasures is watching shows like "Coming Home" while the hubby is away. For those of you that have never watched the show, it is about military homecomings and spews love and pure awesomeness. If you are a military family, you know this really isn't how it happens. If you aren't a military family, let me explain how a real military homecoming works:
Days before arrival: You frantically clean and try to make sure everything is perfect only to have at least one child (or pet) sabotaging your efforts.
Day before: You break out the weed whacker and attack your leg hair that has no doubt been left alone for the last few months.
Day of: You primp for hours while taking caffeine intravenously because you are too excited to sleep. You then get all the children looking somewhat clean and cute into the car and go and wait for hours because the time you are told they would arrive and when they arrive are two very different things. You spend this day on cloud nine and your face hurts from smiling (this is where TV shows like to stop filming).
The following few days: You are happy to have your loved one home, but are growing more annoyed by the pile of stuff that smells like boat (which is a mixture of diesel fuel, BO and recycled farts) which has taken over your bedroom floor. At this time you are also trying to integrate service member back into routines, but end up getting frustrated because they don't do things your way.
A week after arrival: You are ready to have you time and will run just about any errand that comes up as long as you can do it alone. Most days I would volunteer to get the oil changed and sit in a stinky mechanic shop if I can just go alone.
What I would really like TLC to show is a week after homecoming when the wife is laying in bed, hears a man's voice and freaks the fuck out. That has happened to me twice in the last two weeks. I woke up to the hubby talking in his sleep and I jumped out of bed forgetting that he was home and wondering how a stranger made it past the dog (who really would be useless if someone broke in). Maybe I should suggest this to the show.
Days before arrival: You frantically clean and try to make sure everything is perfect only to have at least one child (or pet) sabotaging your efforts.
Day before: You break out the weed whacker and attack your leg hair that has no doubt been left alone for the last few months.
Day of: You primp for hours while taking caffeine intravenously because you are too excited to sleep. You then get all the children looking somewhat clean and cute into the car and go and wait for hours because the time you are told they would arrive and when they arrive are two very different things. You spend this day on cloud nine and your face hurts from smiling (this is where TV shows like to stop filming).
The following few days: You are happy to have your loved one home, but are growing more annoyed by the pile of stuff that smells like boat (which is a mixture of diesel fuel, BO and recycled farts) which has taken over your bedroom floor. At this time you are also trying to integrate service member back into routines, but end up getting frustrated because they don't do things your way.
A week after arrival: You are ready to have you time and will run just about any errand that comes up as long as you can do it alone. Most days I would volunteer to get the oil changed and sit in a stinky mechanic shop if I can just go alone.
What I would really like TLC to show is a week after homecoming when the wife is laying in bed, hears a man's voice and freaks the fuck out. That has happened to me twice in the last two weeks. I woke up to the hubby talking in his sleep and I jumped out of bed forgetting that he was home and wondering how a stranger made it past the dog (who really would be useless if someone broke in). Maybe I should suggest this to the show.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)