Alright...it's time to dust off this blog. I'm blowing...big dust bunnies. I haven't posted for eons. I guess I figured no one was reading. But now I'm committed. I'm committed because this is going to be the saga of my life while my husband serves as a computer consultant to a company...in Afghanistan. Yeah, that's the kicker. He's going to Afghanistan. He isn't quite gone yet. He had to go to North Carolina for some training for a few days. But Saturday will come despite my attempt to shove the week into a closet and cram the door shut with my feet. Oh yeah, that Saturday is in there with the old clothes, coats that don't fit, and toys that no longer get played with. But sadly, the door is going to pop open and spill that Saturday out into my life to deal with whether I like it or not.
So, I have decided not to mope. I'm not a moper by nature. I have the will to succeed. I have decided to take my lemons and make at least watered down lemonade. So he is going to be gone for 6 months, wherein we will see each other for a 2 week leave, as a family, and then he'll resume duties in Afghanistan for another 6 months.
Someone told me I can do anything for a year. I suppose. I don't look at it in time passing but I look more at the things that will be missed, on both sides. He will miss birthdays, scouting events, camping trips with the boys. I will miss snuggling with him, talking with him while we sit in bed doing our nightly routines..he on the computer and me willing a ball of a yarn into a baby blanket for some poor unsuspecting mother who has no idea she's about to get her 6th yarn blanket for this poor baby...and it's not even Winter. What I have found already in his being gone since yesterday is that I have this intense will to survive and not just survive but excel. I can do it! And I can take charge and wield my wiry household into shape. So let's go to it.
One thing I have to laugh at is the things that seem to just rear their ugly heads. When I'm in my plain Jane life with Rob, nothing seems to really go amiss. There is the occasional foray into things unmastered before. But for the most part, we are self sufficient people who just go through our life, driving on the same roads every day, going to the same store (it's Groundhog Day, the movie..only I don't feel trapped by it). So lo and behold...the drama that seems to be lurking in the corners...waiting to come out when Rob isn't here.
Case #1: Monday was test day. The kids were due to walk home from school together for the first time in order to make life easier as I have to change my work hours to accommodate the new life changes. So they were instructed to gather together in the walker area and walk home together on a specified route. I'm at home for lunch and the phone rings. It's Laura, my 7 year old adult daughter. She happens to be Diane Keaton, stuck in the body of a 7 year old. So she's telling me "Hey Mom, can you come pick me up?" Rewind...pick you up..where you be child? She tells me that her new classmate wasn't sure how to get home so she walked her home. Oh crappo. I know right then that poor Aedyn is at the walkers area of the school, worried sick about why his sister is MIA. So I panic. Let's say I don't make the best decisions when I panic. I tell Laura I have no idea where she is. Common sense Eva would have said "Let me talk to your friend's Mom and find out where you are and I'll come and get you". But Common Sense Eva hangs out with 7 year old Diane Keaton only on Saturdays when the housework is done. We chill out and watch Hello Kitty movies together. I digress. So I told her to walk right back to the school and get to walkers area and I would meet her there. I drive over to the school in 10 seconds flat (it is after all just across the street). I am beyond normal behaviors at this point. I'm driven to find my daughter. She's now a little stray on the streets and perfect target for the many psychos that exist out there (or maybe they're just all in my head...but they're there). And yes, I'm going long here...bear with me. So I am running around at the back of the school, in the soggy baseball field that leads to a path that leads to the neighborhood where I believe my little Diane Keaton to be. So I'm calling her name, trudging through mud and debris, splashing it all over my work clothes. I don't care. I'm feeling helpless and stupid for telling her to walk back. She's not where I told her to be and it shouldn't be taking her this long. So I'm worried, I'm screaming, I'm crying...I'm a mess. I know my boys are in the school, probably in the front office because they don't know where else to turn and soon enough, my cell phone rings and it's the front office, wanting to know if I know where Laura is. I think this couldn't be any worse..nightmare is unfolding. I thought I might go all Gone With the Wind at that moment and get down on knees, in the mud, and cry out (only note I'm not wearing a dress made with the drapes from my window. I'll save that for when I'm institutionalized). So I go into the school to retrieve my brave little boys. I come back out and head to the field. Grant is suggesting I call 911. Oh I can't possibly be there at that point yet. I haven't exhausted all resources. I tell them that if I don't see her coming down that path in 3 minutes or less, we're heading home so I can call the phone number that Laura called me from and pinpoint the area where she might be. Then I see movement coming down the path and I feel in my gut this is my baby girl. And sure enough, I see that purple coat. Only, she's accompanied by two taller kids. I think at first they're just walking back to school and she happened to join their throng. I find out later that she was walking, or attempting to walk back to the school and got lost. Oh my heart breaks at hearing that. Dumb stupid nonsensical me...telling her to walk back to the school. But the boy, his name is Garrett, saw her crying and asked her her name and asked about her situation and then in the great goodness of his little 5th grade heart, he walked her back to the school and into my waiting arms. I wrote a gushing note of thanks and gave it to Aedyn to take to him (as Aedyn knows him) the next day. I can't express enough thanks to his parents for raising such a caring boy. Day 1 of walking...FAIL.
Case #2: Last night Grant was in the bathroom and thought it would be a great idea to try out the lock on the door. He's never used it before. He's 8, not at that trouble making age where they have to test and try out everything. But he did it. And then wouldn't you know it...he thought "What if..." and shut the door, light on. I can be glad at least he didn't have the water on. So no fear, we have keys. Yeah we have keys. We have keys to every lock known to man in the house...except the keys for that particular bathroom. THIS STUFF NEVER HAPPENS TO ME. Only when my husband makes a declaration to leave the country do these things seem to come out of the woodwork.
So with that, I bid adieu. I am looking with an eye to God, praying every day for peace and patience and a spirit of doing the best job I can do. That woman's poster from the 1940's WWII era, with her fist pumped and her do-rag on..THAT'S ME PEOPLE.
P.S., the bathroom door is still shut. Anyone know a locksmith?
2 comments:
Oh I love you! This blog is going to be good for so many of us. You're a great writer. Don't call a locksmith. We can help you out. I could come over tonight and we'll figure it out. I'm calling you. You are woman hear you ROAR!
Oh my dear friend! You are wonderful. Thank you for sharing your words of real life. I know I'm across the country but remember I'm only an internet away if you need to vent. I'll keep following your saga and yes You can do it!! :)
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