Anyways, all this not sleeping business leaves me forgetful. I forget what I was going to write. I forget what I was going to say. I forget why I walked into a room, and why do I have this in my hand? I forget to send birthday cards and return phone calls. Oh wait- I've never remembered to send birthday cards or return phone calls, so never mind. I forget my own birthday, relax. Conveniently, I forget that life hasn't always been me as a single mom of three kids. It's simply life. Olivia has adjusted very well to Shawn being gone. Since she tends to be more of a... thespian in nature, I expected histrionics from her. She has fluidly moved from one day to the next, stronger and more resilient than I ever gave her credit for. Last night seemed to be her first real breakdown about the deployment since the departure ceremony. She started crying and asked when Shawn was coming home. I told her "soon", which I'm certain is not reassuring at all to a ten year old. Tough as she is, she knows that if I have been told a date for Shawn's return, I can't tell anyone anyways. She doesn't beg or ask if I know. In this, she behaves better than most adults. She comprehends military protocol and safety, and she understands that even if I had a date that I could tell her, it would end up being wrong anyways. Nothing is certain with the military. How can she be so assenting and wise with only a mere ten years of life experience? I am humbled, as I watch her quietly accept my poor answer of "soon" by picking up the sweatshirt that we gave Shawn for Christmas. It was the last thing of his that we have that he wore. She buried her face in it to inhale his scent, and asked, "Can I wear this to bed?" Off to bed she went, wearing a sweatshirt that was approximately fifty sizes too big, wrapped up in the scent of her step-daddy.
Genevieve has had a harder time with all of this. She is much more likely to get overwhelmed by day to day things. I think what compounds everything for her is all of her food allergies and skin issues. They dramatically affect her sleep, and her sleep dramatically affects her health more than it does the average person; a change in her schedule means that she will be ill for days. She is doing very well in school, and enjoys every minute of it, but has been walking around with a broken heart. It has been torture to witness this. Again, I am amazed, because when my answer to Genevieve's hopeful questions about Shawn's return is simply, "soon", there is no resistance. I expect whining or maybe a tantrum, but there is nothing but acceptance. I hope it is acceptance. I hope it's not just that her faith has been beaten into the ground.
I don't even know how to categorize how I'm doing. I have attacked health and fitness head on and lost 68 pounds since Shael was born. I picked up tae-kwon-do where I left off as a teenager, and it has been great for me. I'll be testing for my black belt next, which has always been a goal of mine. Tkd gets me out of the house, gives me exercise, the girls and I get to do it together, and I get to talk to adults. I have also been taking classes at church that function much the same way (minus being good exercise, of course). However, I'm still overwhelmed. My house is dirty, and it pisses me off. I'm still pumping around the clock for a baby that never nursed. I'm trying to get taxes done, take care of a dent that I put in our new van and the insurance that goes with it, take care of the paperwork that is involved with Shawn's identity recently being stolen, sort out Shael's health insurance issues, and run a small business on top of the daily demands of being a mom and keeping a house/hobby farm. Even though it sounds like I'm complaining, I'm (mostly) not. I need to be busy, or I would go crazy. I work best under pressure. I am incredibly proud of the fact that I have hardly needed any help from others during this last year. Everyone says not to be afraid to ask for help, or not to be ashamed. I'm not afraid to, and I'm not ashamed to, but I'm not going to pretend like I'm dissatisfied with knowing what I'm capable of. You know, over a holiday dinner, when I said that I loved college and would like to go back to school, someone actually said to me that I love school because I don't know how to live in the real world. I didn't know if I should laugh or kick them in the junk. In hindsight, I probably should have done both. Deployment has a way of showing you who your true friends and supporters are, and showing you who is just waiting with gleeful anticipation to watch you fail. It stinks, A LOT, but it's good to know how people really feel and who you can really count on. I have found that during times of stress, I can't handle people being jerks nearly as well as I can when I am not as stressed. I'm pretty sure this is true for everyone, right? I'm avoiding "negativity", which always sounded like such a hippy thing to say. I've turned into a hippy. I'm not ok with that yet, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm a hippy.
So there you have it. I'm forgetful, I'm humbled, I'm proud, I'm crushed, I'm happy, I'm overwhelmed, I'm accomplishing goals, I'm social, I'm picked on, I'm cutting out BS, and I'm a total hippy. How was your year?
