Three More Months...Done

Part of the fun of Foreign Service life is the daydreaming.  Most of us are constantly dreaming of the "what if's" and the "where to's."  What if we get assigned to (name your top or last choice)?  Where would we visit if we were in (name that country again)?  Maybe someday we'll get (name it)!

Turkey, baby!  We're Istanbul-bound, Summer 2017.

For us, our "what if?" is actually known; our bidding was done in September!  And we're excited to say we'll be moving to Istanbul, Turkey for three years, starting in summer 2017!  YES!!  It's always been a daydream assignment for us and we couldn't be more pleased.  I've already researched schools and housing and have looked at the potential job market for me because I just can't help myself.  If you're living this kind of nomadic life, you totally know what I mean.

But what absolutely sucks about this lifestyle is our inability to fully live in the moment.  And if you're trudging through an unaccompanied assignment (which, yeah, we're doing right now), it's all the harder.  For me, I'm currently planning things in increments of three months.  Each seems to be pegged around when the fab hubby is home on R&R.

My blog has, once again, taken the back burner.  Maybe it's because I'm honestly crazy busy.   I mean, come on!  Three kids, all in different schools, a full-time job, a dog, two cats, all the stuff of regular life.  And I'm flying solo.  Or maybe it's because time seems to tick by oh-so-slowly and blogging just reminds me of it.  Or maybe it's because I'm afraid of the emotional roller coaster writing seems to bring out in me.

But here we are again, three more months done.  We're pretty close to the half-way point of our Baghdad separation.  Because tonight, I'll be picking up the fab hubby at the airport for three weeks of R&R.  It's been a long, long three months.  But at the same time, it's weirdly been a blur.

Summer.  Big kids enjoyed a month of glorious sailing and surfing with their besties in California.  Friends since our Cairo days, the kids have managed to stay close, despite the miles separating them.  I was only super jealous since I couldn't go with them to catch up with our friends as well!

School started and The Tween is now in Middle School.  He's in all honors classes (except for English, which his says is his nemesis) at his own choosing.  He's also in Model U.N. and Band (trumpet).  This nerd mom couldn't be more proud.  Abby is now in 5th Grade, also in Band (flute) and she has started Irish Step Dancing.  {Again, nerd mom proudly pats self on back.}

Kellen turned FIVE and I suddenly feel old old OLD.  He's no longer a baby, and long past the toddler phase.  I have to watch my language around him because any time I swear, he's sure to point out my effing transgression.  Dinosaurs and super heroes are center stage, but he's still trotting right behind the big kids hoping they'll accept him and play with him, despite the age gap.

As for me, well.  Let's just say you don't gain 20 pounds in a year because you've been taking good care of yourself.  I like to portray myself as having it all together (because honestly, I usually feel like I mostly do), but when push came to shove, I was sadly willing to back off of the running to keep my sanity.  My work schedule and home stuff keep me crazy enough and trying to fit in running regularly is rough.  As injury upon injury piled up due to inconsistent running, I had to make a choice.  I'm really kinda ashamed that I made the wrong choice initially.  It was sooooo much easier to choose chocolate cake and the couch instead of a brisk walk after work, time and time again.  Next thing I knew, nothing fit, not even my scrubs.  It's bad when the elastic-waist scrubs are digging in.

I begrudgingly started with a walk at my lunch break at work.  I picked up a Fitbit (a high tech pedometer) thanks to a friend's recommendation {that would be the mom of the kiddos my kids flew out to Cali to see last summer -- dang I miss her!} and I just made the tiny commitment to walk most everyday.  Increasing my steps, decreasing the cake and couch time.  It honestly kinda sucks, only because it's never instantly gratifying.  But I've stuck with it, and added some running (slow) back into my days.  It takes months to lose fitness and it takes way more time to regain it.  It's incredibly frustrating.  But I signed up for the Army 10-Miler to keep myself on track.

In October, I ran that race.  Sluggy slow, but injury-free.  And 10-pounds lighter, which I'm thrilled with.  I'm still walking at work and running on the weekends and whenever I can sanely squeeze in a couple extra miles.  It feels good to be back on the road and taking care of myself again.

And of course.  The fab hubby returns tonight! All the usual prep work is complete.  A new pair of specs and a haircut for me.  I've splurged on bi-weekly housekeeping and oh my gawd is it completely and utterly worth it.  The house is spotless and I'm not yelling at kids to (halfheartedly) scrub toilets and vacuum the floors.  I've also written out a calendar so the fab hubby isn't at a loss of remembering when and where the kids are day-to-day, because although the weekly crazy is etched in my head permanently, he's been gone from the household crazy.  It's all gonna be fuzzy (and a blur for him).

Plans are made for the rest of month.  Every weekend is of course already booked and the fab hubby is home this R&R for Thanksgiving.  We're meeting up with family for turkey day, but the weekend after will be spent at Great Wolf Lodge with some friends.  Because dude.  I turn 40 that weekend and nothing says party like an indoor water park and bazillions of children running around.  We embrace the crazy.

Ack.  I just admitted I'm turning 40.  I'm considering just celebrating 39 again.

Here's a photo tour of the blur from end of summer until now:

Post-Surf Camp gang.  I'm pretty jealous, having missed out.

Abby, sailing!

Owen and his buddy Josh, sailing.

These girlies have known each other since Cairo.
Oh, and In-N-Out.  Again, jealous.

Geek squad and a bromance.

End of summer fun at our community pool.

Boys will be boys.

Middle School = Locker Time.

Socks and ghillies (dance shoes) are a must for Irish Step Dancing.

Weekend of the Army 10-Miler; I took the boys paddle boating in D.C.

Epic photobomb by the Washington Monument.

In case you're wondering what Five Years looks like.
Newborn on the left.
5yo who loves toy spiders on the right.

I adore him.

Requisite birthday party at Chuck E Cheese's.

Five burning candles.

Blow them out!

Getting my bib for the Army 10-Miler.
And my shirt says how I feel most days.

I was a slug but I did it.
And I'll do it again.

On the trail, taking care of myself with a good run.
And a sassy new haircut to boot.

The Third Child is the ONLY Child...Temporarily

Children.  We have three of them.  The first two are only 26 months apart.  The last one?  He's five years younger than the middlest.  Now, I don't claim to be an expert on children, although I am a pediatric nurse [ha!]; but I can tell you, the third child is without a doubt the luckiest of the bunch.

Giant Panda.  Meet Kellen.

Of course, kids come with no handbook.  So the firstborn is sorta the 'test' child.  He's the one I utilize the most for figuring out this mom gig.  Mistakes, successes, trials and errors?  Most of them get hammered out with him.  Especially when it came to babies.  Oh, I loved being a first-time mom.  But it was definitely the most difficult of times.  I was positive that every-single-little-tiny-decision-was-important.  He was breakable.

The second?  Well, she's the one I was able to "fix" all the mistakes I made with the first.  You know, having figured out the baby thing with the first one, I could focus on making it 'right' with the second. 

Gawd.

By the time the third one came along, I was really just exhausted.  And I knew from Kid One and Kid Two experiences that there's surprisingly very few mistakes to really be made.  

So Kid Three?  He's just super chill and easy going.  Headstrong, always laughing and having a good time, and downright loving.  He's really kinda the tag-a-long kid, since his big brother and big sister are so much older than he is.  But they love him and they tolerate him always trying to hang with the big kids.  At least mostly.

And now it's summer.  Owen is 12, Abby is 10, and Kellen, the 'baby,' is four years old.  With the fab hubby off in Iraq, I was concerned about the two oldest once school let out for the summer.  Kellen is in daycare -- so he's not really an issue.  But what to do with the big kids to keep them out of trouble, not bored, and not desperately missing their Dad?  I shipped them off to SoCal for a month to hang with some of their besties they'd met in Cairo.  Yeppers.  Two days after school finished for the summer, I herded those two off to Dulles and they flew to SoCal.  Off for an adventure of surfing and sailing.

Awesome mom points, I know!

But this ingenious plan left the tag-a-long kid with no one other kids to tag-a-long with.

Those devious eyes.

Dang! It's been a long time since I had just one kid in my radius.  Usually, I just say "kids go play" and well, they do.  But Kellen?  He's really never been on his own, especially for such a long period of time.  He's never been an only child.  Until this summer.

And oh, did he fall into the groove quickly.  All the Mom attention he can handle!  The Xbox (and Owen's room --- shhh!) at his mercy!  All the popsicles he could ever want...all to himself.  Kids' movies, the zoo, the pool, playgrounds galore, and a newly decorated bedroom, just for him!

Truthfully, I've loved this time.  It's not that I don't miss the big kids (because I totally do), but having Kellen all to myself has been an interesting adventure.  I love looking at the world through his four-year-old eyes.  Of course, with no big kids around, he's had the chance to really do things that are geared toward four-year-olds.  And with his daredevil-I-can-do-and-be-anything easy nature?  He's exhausting, but so totally awesome at the same time.

Later this week, our solo time will end when the big kids fly back home (!!!) and next weekend the fab hubby is home for his first R&R (YES! Really!).  But we have definitely made the most of our time...

One of our many playground dates.

Took him to see 'Jurassic World'.  We hit the candy store first!

This place is a kid's dream!

At the Reston Zoo with friends.  Kellen and Lily, holding hands.

Feeding a budgie!

Double budgies!

Kellen, Noah, and Lily checking out the alligators!

Back to the mecca of candy!

These three.  So fun!

Yeah.  I treated him to ice cream after a day at the park.

Now that's how you eat ice cream!

 

A picnic at the park!

Ham and cheesy.

Kellen took this pic for us!   FS friends...and one is off to Nepal this month!

New big boy bed!

He picked the bedding out himself.

We were there to see Minions, but he loves PacMan, too!

After the Minions movie, I got a major haircut...

And Kellen got ice cream as a reward for being so good!

On the Metro, headed to the National Zoo.

Elephants in the background!

Hanging with me and checking out the bear.

The stingrays were surprisingly his favorite of the day.

Sippy faces!

Again.  Those.Eyes.  He owns me because of those baby blues!

TWO stuffed pandas?! Mom is such a sucker.

Pretty much a perfect ending to an amazing adventure.

Admitting the Suckage of Another Unaccompanied Tour

Family selfie at Harpers Ferry, WV.

The fab hubby left for Iraq two weeks ago.  Yeah, I've been avoiding writing.  For MONTHS.  Because I just wasn't ready to put it into words.  Avoidance is a game I play all too often.

It's hard to identify that point when I mentally checked out from admitting it.  And it happened long before he even left for Baghdad.

"THIS TIME it will be different," I lied to myself, fulling knowing I was lying to myself.

"THIS TIME it will be easier," I lied to myself.  Because, you know.  We've done it before and we're used to it.

"THIS TIME I won't dwell on him leaving; I'll enjoy the time we have," I lied to myself.  Knowing that even though I would indeed enjoy the time together, I would still be fretting over his leaving.

THIS TIME.

Well.  This time sucks as much as the last time.  And it doesn't matter how much we do this, it never seems to get easier, no matter how familiar it is.

But I avoided it -- as evidenced by my clear lack of writing for the last five months.  I put on that smile; that brave face; I told myself I was too busy to write, too busy to admit that this sh*t is real. It's easier to avoid it than to confront it.  Because we DO know what we're doing, we DO know that we'll get through this, we DO know that our relationship and our family is stronger than the gaping physical distance between us.  We have friends and family who love us and support us.  I have a job that allows me to work AND be there for the kids.  Win. Win. Win.  Right?

Of course, the Fab Hubby knew I was all about not admitting anything sucks.  Hiding. Avoiding. Deflecting. Redirecting.  He tried to get me to talk about it; I discounted his concern.  All those generic phrases I use come back to me in short snippets.  "I'm fine."  "I'm not worried."  "This won't be so bad."  He knew I was lying to him and to myself.  But of course, in his fabulousness, he didn't push the issue.  Because he knew that at some point I'd be back at my desk writing it all out, realizing I had mentally checked out during those months leading up to his Baghdad date, and that I'd be peeved at myself for having so easily allowed myself to do so.

When he was asked to arrive to Baghdad a month earlier (May instead of June), we agreed -- better to get it going than to wait around for it.  I personally figured that's one less month of dread.  But suddenly, we had 5 weekends left, and so much to do.  A long weekend with friends, a couple days for us without kids, some family and friends visiting --- all of it needed to be done in so little time!  And of course, there's UAB packout and all the great goodness that goes along with that.  Thankfully, I wasn't directly involved with it, with the exception of "Honey! Do you know where my {insert obscure item name} is??!!" For the record, I NEVER know where those obscure items are.

Suddenly, I could really justify the "I'm too busy!" to blog about his prep for Iraq.  Or our awesome weekend to the mountains of Virginia with friends.  Heck, I'd already missed blogging about The Tween turning 12 and flying (Solo!) to Louisiana to see his bestie.  I'd neglected to write about Abby turing double digits in March!  With the accelerated leaving-for-Baghdad date, I could justify any "too busy" I needed to.  Which just allowed me to avoid avoid AVOID my feelings about the whole "WE'RE DOING ANOTHER UNACCOMPANIED ASSIGNMENT!"  Again.

So yeah.  Here I am.  Looking back on the last few months and hating myself for falling into that trap.

Things that suck about this separation?  Already truly knowing how difficult it is to be apart, but knowing that this chosen (and completely voluntary on our part!) assignment works best for our family for what we need right now.  We've moved every one to two years for the last six years.  This year that he's spending in Iraq allows the kids to complete a third year in a school without being moved.  This was (is!) really important to us.  And hopefully, this unaccompanied assignment will push the biding gods toward being kind to us {Because yo!  Bidding for summer 2016 is upon us very, very soon!}  It sucks that such an assignment is honestly the best choice for us for right now.

Other things that suck?  The guilt that goes along with my so easily being able to switch over to solo-parent-Heather mode.  We've done so much time apart (whether it be short TDYs or his previous one-year assignment in Baghdad in 2010 or my 6-months in California in 2013) that we know how to survive on our own.  And, guiltily, there are some things that I like about it.  I like having the king size bed all to myself and stealing the fab hubby's body pillow and his t-shirts when he's away.  There's way less laundry with one less adult.  His alarm doesn't wake me in the morning (nor does his hitting the snooze button for the next 20 minutes).  I can cook essentially the same four meals I like over and over and he won't be here to give me the stink eye, since he doesn't like repetitive meals.  Or leftovers.  Yeah.  Stupid stuff like this makes me feel horribly guilty.

Other things that suck?  The having to explain over and over and over again (with justification) about why the fab hubby is gone for a year.  And the pitied looks I get from people when I mention it.  Now, I know I don't have to justify our choices to others or even explain myself to them.  But, well, it just seems like it happens all the time.  I loathe it.

And of course, the big one.  HE'S IN BAGHDAD and I'm not with him.  It's tough on the kids and it's tough on me and yeah.  I know it's tough on him.

Deep.Breath.  I always feel better when I admit stuff like this.

But somehow I always end up in the trap of avoidance and fake tough faces.  I want others to see me as the strong, supportive wife (because I am) and I don't want my weaknesses to show.  I love our FS life in general, and I want to be positive about our experiences, even the difficult ones like this.  My husband loves his job, including assignments in Baghdad, and well, this is just part of the job -- and we knew it going into this lifestyle.

So here we are.  Only four years out from our last unaccompanied assignment (also Baghdad) and less than two years out from when I was on a nurse contract assignment in Los Angeles while the rest of my family was in Cairo.

I think maybe, one of the the hardest things for me is giving up the "normal".  The nice, awesome, regular family normalness we had for the past couple years here in NoVA.  It's been amazing and I am mourning the loss of normal.  Of laundry and snooze alarms and dinner time and switching off who-helps-with-homework night.  Of hanging out on the couch with the fab hubby after the kids have gone to bed to watch late-night TV and talk about our day.  It's the daily stuff -- the regular life stuff -- that I miss so desperately when it's gone.

It's going to be a long, tough year.  But I already knew it was going to be --- I just didn't want to admit it.

Some things I should have celebrated in writing long before I got to this point:

He's 12!! And eating mammoth-sized burritos.

She's 10!! Where did time go?  DOUBLE DIGITS!

My parents came to visit!

I took my dad sightseeing in style with our BFF coffees!

We took a long weekend with friends and their kiddos.
This is at Luray Caverns.  We then spent a long weekend in Massanutten!

Family photo-op! 

At Massanutten, VA.  His first time riding!

Abby!  With the Fab Hubby and Owen on horses in the background.

All three kiddos did the this course!

First time rock climbing!

That's Owen and Abz on the zip line.  Makes me want to barf.

This happened.  Some friends wanted to wish the Fab Hubby farewell.
We did so with Mexican food and this craziness. Oh, Yeah!

Hiking in Harpers Ferry, WV.

Just gorgeous.

The Tween putting on some parkour moves.

Ah.  Yankees.

More in Harpers Ferry, WV!

I dropped the fab hubby off at the airport for his flight to Baghdad.
And got us some sippy-face action on the way home.
Don't judge me.

This is actually a tough one.
Kellen has been drawing maps at school on "how to get to my Daddy".
(((my heart breaks))) 

Don't know what I'd do without this girlie.
I'm so lucky to have her as my friend AND I get to work with her!