Preparing for it is like going through the Kübler-Ross Model, or five stages of grief.
1. Denial: "Uh, I don't think so..." "Didn't you just go on a deployment?" "Surely they've made a mistake, let's not get excited until the paperwork is in your hand".
2. Anger: At everybody and everything.
Towards Hubby: "Are you flippin' kidding me?! What about _____ and_______ and ________ who have never been deployed in their whole career?!"
Towards insensitive RS President: "No, I am NOT ok with you changing my VT route and companion so that I now have to drive 15 minutes to get her (she doesn't drive) and then an additional 35 minutes to the people I am supposed to visit while my husband is away."
Towards the Military: "What about our camping trip, beach plans--all of our summer?" "What about our Pantomime tickets already booked?"
Towards Flaky Hubby: "So, you are deploying in a couple of weeks, but still managing to take time off to do a hike with your buddy?" "Really?!"
Towards Football Coach: "You have NOT divided the team fairly for these 5-a-sides. Yes, I know you have one strong defender, 2 strong midfielders and a strong striker on each of your two teams but that's not the point!"
Towards random strangers: "Why are those kids staring at me, haven't they ever seen a woman smash the front end of her car before?!"
(anger hung around longer than the other stages)
3. Bargaining: "Fine, so you go away for another 6 months and I'll go home". "Yes, I know that I will be alone at "home" just as I'm alone here, but that's not the point (nor is the fact that there isn't a "home" any longer since we've been moving for the last 15 years)."
"I need more scrapbooking paper to ease my pain...and Wii Zumba".
4. Depression: "I'll get out of bed when I'm ready, pass the chocolate please".
5. Acceptance: "I'm going to be ok, I can't change it so I will have to accept it". "We'll take one bite of the elephant at a time..."
I won't say which stage I am on now, but I can tell you that my mind is distracted (thus the little fender bender between me and an embankment only days before my car was supposed to sell). I'm having a hard time focusing and "being in the moment" which is sad for the kids...
Miss Ky was not in school on Monday, she was home with me. OMGosh that girl can talk! I didn't want to be short with her, but at one point I thought that if she didn't shut up soon, my head was going to blow into a billion abstract bits all over my house.
My thoughts are on automobiles, tv taxes, car taxes, the pool winterizing I'll have to do on my own, Number One Son in Tech school and his wife in Arizona, school fees that hit hard when we got back from the states and older, established trees dying left and right in my garden due to the drought we're suffering...not the constant ramblings of a four-year old.
I decided that the best thing to do with little Miss Chatterbox was put her to work.
"Miss Ky, how about you come out and help me in the garden, would you like to move the water to the apple tree for me?"
"Okay!!! I'm going to get my shoes! I'm wearing my school shoes because if I wear my sparkly shoes they might get mud on them Livvy wears her sparkly shoes to school sometimes and she takes her bike, I want to take my bike to school because I'm a big girl and I don't need a helmet because I can ride with one hand...."
and she sets herself smack on my heels, following me out the door... singing.
"Weee're going to move the water! Weee aaare going to moooove the waaaahhaaahhhaaater, we're moving the waaaater, we are going to move the waaaahaaater..."
She sings for the mile and half (slight exaggeration) we have to walk to where the hose sits.
Then she picks up the hose and turns to me to ask, "Which apple tree do you want me to water?" as she soaks my legs.
We can do this, some days are just going to be a lot less fun than others.