Ordinary and Weird.

What does it take to be who you are? I let a lifestyle define me, but not to a fault. I was a military spouse. Surely, still myself but at the end of the day I wrote here as an Army EOD wife. I wrote about training, deployment- living in the barracks together for the first four months of our marriage. I had my own passions (TSA horror stories, annoyances, alternative lifestyles, being socially liberal), but  it was fantastically ordinary, for the most part. I felt the appropriate level of one percent-ness: that "only so few of our citizens go and do this for everyone else" explanation for why I was special. But for the military, it wasn't special. Spouses go train and come home, they deploy, it sucks. We argued about money. We missed each other and wrote sweet emails. All the usual stuff. I thought it was special, but I have emphasize that it wasn't. I took for granted how "business as usual" our life together truly was going, until September 7th, 2011.

I guess we're special now, right? Not as unique as we should be, because there are far too many service members here. It doesn't even make sense how all this sacrifice makes our country a better or safer place, because I don't think it does at all. But that's not the point of all this (do I have a point?). I just wish I knew how much of a blessing ordinary was when we had it.

It's resonating with me right now that I had a pretty ordinary day. I did a mountain of laundry, pretended to do schoolwork, cleaned up, cooked. Aaron had his stitches pulled out so I went with him to do that. I knew it would be a little rough so I wanted to be able to push him back. Grateful for how ordinary it all was, but still a touch of our new life. Everyday, folks.

Obviously, I'm going through a lot emotionally. I'm not as okay as I was, but I'm not doing too poorly, either. I am actually revisiting an old familiar place that has gotten me through some other tough times in my life. It's not that I feel that I am going through some crazy and moody identity crisis but I'm just allowing some other attributions of my personality to shine through for a bit. It's nice to have these familiar bits back in the game, even if it does complicate me a bit. I've having to let go of my "active duty wife life" and find whatever is going to be the next defining thing. Warrior wife? Hopefully I don't need to be her all the time for too much longer. I don't really know who I am most days, outside of being the same weird kid I've always been. I mean, what this takes to do everyday- I don't know who does it all. I don't feel like it's me because I freak out a lot. Maybe I'm the same person, just now a 30-year-old punk kid with unconventional ideas and a curious mind. What is adulthood? Was I ever a young professional? Me and my friends from Roswell- the last place I was before I got married- were more like the young unprofessionals. None of us were working jobs that exercised our talents, or realizing our full potential, or even making enough money to get by. And to be honest, those people are the smartest people I've ever known. We were just so unaffected by everything else, everyone else. We couldn't really afford cable so we missed out on what everyone else was doing. We were pretty happy, too. And drunk.

Who I was there might have been more raw than who I've been now. I can get through these rough times by expressing my raw self. I feel more anti-social these days, less inclined to make small talk. Definitely not wearing a lot of pink and skipping about. I'm not saying I'll actually pierce my eyebrow- but these days, I feel like my exterior should match my interior a little bit.

It's not an existential crisis at 30. I'm not confused about who I am. We all have personality complexities because we're all unique human beings. My path to individualism just began a lot sooner than most people's because my home life was a little interesting when I was young (that's an understatement but I don't feel the need to elaborate). I learned to layer myself, to be a little more presentable, to edit myself a bit more (which honestly, isn't such a bad thing for me). But occasionally, I feel like I just need to express myself inside and out. I'm pretty comfortable being a weird little woman because I was a weird little kid. Maybe a new tattoo and a summer of this and I'll feel a bit more like my grown-up version. The one who minds a bit more. And wears pink.

I never had a lot of ordinary in my life and I relished it when it was present. I just wish I knew... you know?

What I Feel LIke Looking Like.

Over the past year, I've tried to "grow up" with my make up and clothes. I try on cute H&M outfits and buy them. I love Guess, mainly because it fits me (sue me, I'm thin and it looks good). I definitely have a little edge to what I wear, though. I recently bought a bunch of loose distressed tops to be worn over tank tops. I have a lot of skinny pants because I never take time to hem my jeans. Anyway, I mix it up with boots and heels or whatever. I'm kind of a little punk sometimes. But most days I do what looks good, which is pretty. My make-up is just so, I look fine- but I'm not feeling it. Lately, I've had very little sense of ownership in all aspects of my life so I'm feeling more rebellious than usual. Or maybe more myself? Anyway, I put on clothes and pull this off alright:

I don't ever really look this cute, but I feel like I try to look like this and usually fail. It's a general idea.

And then I throw in my "understated Lancome" make-up:

I actually do the make-up pretty well.

But what I really want to do is this:

And there you have it, folks. One of many reasons I'm back in therapy!

Have good weekends!

Feeling Defeated. Go. Army.

This morning we were woken up by a 730am text message from the Army squad leader. There is formation twice a week and room inspections (we've been over that here a few times).

I was going to care today about "healing" and being happy, but I'll find something else to do with my time.

I feel like these people are more concerned with the PATIENTS being soldiers than the other way around. We're here for them; they're not here for us.

I quit today. I think I'll have Ativan for breakfast instead of cereal...

I am the Warrior Wife. Hear me roar! (And watch me fall out!)

Oh, man. I know anyone who loves their spouse wouldn't think twice about doing whatever it took, but even I am beginning to understand how challenging this life can be. The shower, would care, and general getting-it-together this morning was all the productivity I think I can handle today! I'm really impressed with us, as we've learned there is nothing a lot of laughter and a healthy dose of patience can't accomplish. As we stumble through all the steps back and forward, revisited painful territory and new horizons, I can't help but feel incredibly humbled by the fact that we're here. Even though I am very clearly "in the bubble" I do realize- on occasion- that this can't be easy. Most days I don't even think about it like that because we do what has to be done. The recent hospital stay was incredibly difficult but it's all water under the bridge. I am so, so lucky to be here. I know that it must be a struggle but it just feels like life to me. Our life, and I love it.

And today, since we got it all done by 10am, I am going to take a nap!

Tired and partially clean.

Oh my God, I've been so tired! The regression back to "normal" hospital behavior was quick and fairly unexpected. I mean, I didn't know what I expected when I decided to sleep there with him. I got a sweet little note about how messy my apartment was so my MIL and I spent a little time on it today. There is a note on the bedroom door, however, that reads:

Fear not, for the bedroom will be restored to its former glory Wednesday afternoon. The lady of the house can only do so much while tending to the man in the hospital (and sleeping there). It's all gonna be okay!

I get so tired of all the not-important pressure. There are guys pissing in cereal bowls and putting holes in the walls- no one needs to worry about my messy bedroom. It will all be good for Aaron's return, due later this week. I hate having to take time out for not-real problems.

Everything's good, just exhausted. Hopefully we only have a few more days left and then back to my disgrace of an apartment we go!

Fine.

Everything went great with the surgery. It was a very early morning and quite a long day. Didn't see that coming. He has been high as a kite since then (an epidural, Dilaudid and two other painkillers will do that to you) and extremely needy. My in-laws are here so I have some time to slip away and catch up on late school work. This first semester back has been harder to manage than I could have imagined. Holy time management batman, throw in a recovering, handicapped husband and you have yourself a deadline nightmare. Let's hope I don't bomb three whole intro classes. Yeah, I'm a whiz.

Also more difficult than expected is this whole second hospital stay. The first was two months, and this should only be a week but it's brought a ton of old feelings back. Him being incredibly loopy and demanding (duh) is weird, as well. He was really independent just the morning of surgery, how are we back here again? But I know better, it's just temporary and everything will be back normal in a week or less.

Isn't that just a funny thought to end on- "back to normal." HA!

Happy Birthday To My Very Much Alive Husband!

Aaron's Caring Bridge Update

Today is his birthday! 33 years of awesomeness... and to think he almost didn't make this one! Last night, we met up with friends at Ruth's Chris, most of whom are wounded EOD techs and their family members. Throw in a few great friends and you have yourself a party! One good friend ordered the appetizers, I made sure everyone had a glass of champagne, and we all ordered steaks. We were ready to enjoy our damn good meals! And we did. We were ready to pay for them too, but some anonymous angel called the restaurant and picked up the whole tab. Crazy! Speaking of crazy, I pretty much bought Aaron everything for his birthday. He wanted a 7-day set of straight razors so I bought him three pretty ones. I got him a Soda Stream and Lincoln Logs. The list goes on. How many "you're not dead" birthdays does a man get? Hopefully one's enough! One is too many but I'll take any reason to celebrate his living, breathing, amazing, sexy body! So I went all out. His mom arrives later today and we're meeting family out for dinner tonight.

Tomorrow he has his HO surgery. We're all nervous and hoping that everything goes as planned, and by July he can be walking. Dear God. Please. This has got to be a game-changer. We're ready!

Have great weekends, everyone!