one-hundred-twenty-one, but who's counting?

i'm counting! it's what i do. no really, counting is literally what i do everyday. but i'm not talking bean-counting; i'm counting days.

it's been four months: 121 days sans husband.

only 60-ish more to go! *fingers crossed*

and it's odd. so very odd. how do wives do this?! i don't mean the "idea" of a military wife or the "thought" of how it might be, i mean the nitty-gritty of facing each day... alone. and the men! my empathy, my sympathy! i will never fully understand what this time away impacts or how their hearts manage while worlds away from their near & dear. ahh sacrifice. on soooo many levels. my hat goes off to all who endure it.

my depression during this deployment is no secret. that's not to say that i don't enjoy myself while out & about, but it's always there, changing form. the heavy ache when he first left, of plain not knowing what to do with myself. and then the shift - taking care of myself, of henry, making summer plans, visiting friends and doing it all alone. and i hate, HATE! that i'm getting use to it, that i am use to it. i don't ever ever want to be use to coming home to our empty abode, use to his absence. and that is the state that drives my depression these days. i feel like i'm in a constant state of waiting. and some days, the days that aren't filled with henry's light or plans with my family, or dates with my friends... i feel it most - the waiting. waiting to hear from him, waiting for the day to end, waiting for life to start back up again, waiting for this physical and emotional gaping hole to be filled once more. we wait for each other and the familiar touch we've gone without.

there's a light! and we can see it! and as the days tick by it gets brighter, more real. he's not leaving, he's coming. boy, to be on this side of time, to know this phase is coming to an end, the anticipation is a glorious build. i can not wait to be suffocated by his kisses, to hog the covers, to have the three of us around the dinner table, to squish onto a twin bed for story time, to have a reason to cook, to watch the laundry baskets fill in record time. to be together, to have my family under one roof again. yes, yes, a glorious build.

i can't wait for this longing, this depression, this state, to dissipate. and it will, the moment i lay eyes on him. *sigh* i could day-dream that scenario all day long ;)

6.26.09

three years ago today, it was a friday. we had taken the day off, woken up early & packed up the car. he ironed my dress while i curled my hair, and his face... his face always does this sweet smolder when he sees my feet in heels, this day more so, not just for high heels, this was our wedding day. we dressed, clothes all neatly pressed, hearts and nerves and butterflies buzzing beneath.

we drove down to the old court house in santa ana, your average morning traffic with a side of coffee and cigarettes and talk radio. parked and paid and wore the biggest of grins as we waited with our two very best friends for our names to be called.

it was a small private room and we stood before the officiant, repeating the traditional standard vows. but in our own voice, spoken with meaning and promise, giving each word life. kissing passionately. it maybe took fifteen minutes, possibly less, i don't recall, but i DO remember the awe that followed. i'm a wife. i'm his wife. we're married! we're forever. even still, i blush with humble pride to call him husband, it raises up the sweetest swell of love inside me - that simple fact - husband.

we left hand in hand. beaming. walking pass the homeless to get to the car. and they smiled and congratulated us and quite literally shared in our happiness for a few moments as we passed. one woman in particular remains clear in my memory, maybe because she showered us with loud and confident greetings as we came and went, or maybe it was me, and the happiness inside me bursting to be shared with anyone crossing our path.

then slipped off the heels and settled in for the long drive up the 101 to the private and serene hills of ojai blaring phantom planet's "california" and singing loudly out of cue with my best friend, my husband.

i'll never forget that day, how perfectly normal it was. how mundane and simple and matter-of-fact it was. but everything about that day brings me great joy.

and the weekend that followed. the giddiness, the acres of privacy, the sun rise, the intimacy, the laughter, the outdoor shower! the silence, the rest, the sharing, the music, the nudity, the openness, the bug bites, the realization as we soaked it all up: our lives, our hearts, our home, completely and utterly (and officially!) devoted to each other now and always.

happy anniversary to my husband, to three years of ups and downs, to successes and set backs, to every day life and still being madly in love throughout it all. i'll forever adore you, for the man you are, for the way you care for my heart, for the love that reaches and accepts all of my darkness and shortcomings, for your raw honesty, for you playful banter and endless encouragement. you are an extraordinary husband.

future unborn babies.

had a craft night with the bestest (aka kris)!

i started out making baby gifts for my niece, the sofs (first birthday on the horizon!) & for my other bestest, dahlia. unfortunately, the onesies we had were for newborns and the sofs is a mighty wee big for teensy clothes anymore. and heartbreakingly, my sweet dahl miscarried at eight weeks.

sorry folks, this blog took a somber turn. healing prayers for my dahl, alex, diego and their angel baby. may God restore their hearts and minds and bless them to the fullest.

and so it is, that i ended up making a baby girl and baby boy onesie for my future unborn babies. is that a bad omen? i suppose that's the 3 mos rule i've heard about. however, i am not pregnant, and thus such superstitions don't apply. besides, i've struggled with my fair share of fears in this department as it is, don't need to add another to the list. anyway, i refuse to see it as a bad omen. these items are making their way into a hope chest, thank you very much. where faith dwells and superstitions have no place.

for our maybe baby girl, ruffles. did i mention i don't know how to sew?! i have a sewing machine that i had to have and have yet to touch. i even bought a three hour beginner class on groupon! i'm setting myself up for sewing success, i just needed a shove to get me motivated. youtube-ed "how to sew a gathering stitch", a few snags with the bobbin and an overall lack of know-how, but i thinks it's beautiful. i cut up a shirt of mine i had only worn once, but hung on to forever (sounds like half of my closet!). but i wore it to the husband's FMTB graduation so in a sense, it's got mommy and daddy already woven into it with love.

for our maybe baby boy, dressed to impress :) there was no actual sewing involved here. but! i do plan to add a zagging-type stitch around the tie & pocket...eventually (meaning, when i think i have this sewing thing down enough not to mess it up).

baby butt pocket! ah!

and moto stash binkie to match daddy.

crafting with the best! after all, my future babies wouldn't have these homemade treasures if it wasn't for them and their help and the little babies growing their bellies <3 (sans jamers ;))

mom's day.

i've never conceived a baby in my womb. never ached for nine months. never dreamed of ten little fingers and ten little toes growing inside me. never felt the twinges, kicks and punches. never labored and held creation on my chest. not ever, not yet.

it's no secret that my "nevers" come matched with an undying longing... and even a natural hint of jealousy for those who are called "mom".

but! i have this equally amazing and dynamically different blessing, i'm a step-mom. a very very proud and happy step-mama.

things come differently when the baby you love isn't of you. natural instincts of a mother are something i've literally had to practice before they began to come naturally. our bonds aren't birthed, they aren't maternal; that is his very special connection with his mom. no, our bonds started with a hand-hold @ dt disney and have been breathed into every day efforts since; of learning, listening, trusting, guiding, consoling, encouraging, disciplining, loving, accepting, growing, and teaching. they've taken years to build, and each day to up-keep. i know it won't ever be the same, and i don't wish it that way. but i also know that what i do share with him, is unique and special, a gift. a gift i wouldn't change or trade for anything on this earth.

mother's day was a tad heavy for me. the world seemed to show me repeatedly that i'm not mom, that i don't fit the criteria (that awkward, 3rd wheel, "step" feeling). i have no delusions about being the mom, only truths about being a mom, knowing first hand about motherhood (even if it doesn't include the whole spectrum). it took me awhile to process the weight of the holiday. to sift through the facts and land upon what matters. and it goes like this:

i'm strapping henry into his car seat. i'm leaning over battling with the seat belt. and out of nowhere, he hugs me, holding on so tight. and i just stay there in that moment, bear-hugging henry & car seat alike. i tell him he's the sweetest bug. and he tells me "well, i DO love you." and that's it, right there, what matters most. no mother's day present could have touched my heart deeper. melt, melt, melt (i'm still melting!).

though this holiday left me feeling left out, my sweet henry did not. i suppose it was selfish to want recognition. when truly it doesn't matter how anyone else views who i am to henry, but henry. and he knows. he knows that i'm his missy, that i love him, that i care for him, and that i'd do anything in this world for him.

i am henry's step-mom. he is my mother's day gift, the gift of step-motherhood.

hush hush.

fear. for the last 24 hours, fear has found it's home at the very tip-top of all my thoughts.

but i can't talk about it. well, not with anyone but God, and boy oh boy is he hearing from me non-stop. like a buzz in his ear of long-winded prayers, set on repeat and full of genuine desperation.

not my will, but HIS, i remind myself. and simultaneously pleading the two match up. i wholeheartedly believe in the Lord's faithfulness, in his mercy and his glory. reminder no. 2, no matter the outcome: the stamping out of my life's biggest fear or it's heart-shattering reality, glory to God. and i shake and quiver under that promise.

my eyes open, my mouth shut, and my heart seeking God. that is my posture.

hits me like a sack of bricks.

out of nowhere, smack dab in the middle of completely non-related tasks, it hits me like a ton of bricks.

and just as suddenly it knocks the wind outta my chest and grips my heart with a tightness that is more literal and physical than being socked in the gut.

i miss my husband. simple as that. today marks one whole month. thirty days that i've literally spent in bed, aching over the gaping void of his absence. crying over a jar i lack the muscle to open. spooning my cat and gobbling up her affection. slipping into an empty bed. loosing myself in a book. letting every scion on the road catch my eye. pulling on his clothes the second i hit home. late night candy binges. it's mental, it's physical, it's emotional. it's sacrifice.

i've let myself start the countdown. a few days, a couple weeks, i tried not to pay attention to time. but a month! one out of six(ish), that's a solid block of time and there's confidence behind that. and my time spent heartsick in bed is becoming easier to manage. finding a new normal takes effort! henry and i are settling into our own sweet routine and when it's just me, well, i'm finally starting to cross things off my many to-do lists, coming out of hibernation i guess.

some days feel aimless. some days i'm floored by longing. but people do this everyday. for years even! it gives me strength, it makes me grateful for a short deployment. it makes me lean on God like never before. and then just as suddenly as my pity sack of bricks wipes me out, i find gratitude in my pain, sweetness in my tears, and peace in God's faithfulness.

hunger games (possible spoiler alert?)

first, i HAVE to see it again. why? because i thought it was brilliant? no (not that it's not brilliant). i just, no matter how much i try i will always be a lover of the book first (as i am with all book adaptions) and that alone makes me bias. it also doesn't help that i couldn't resist a re-read with the movie release here. so details were fresh in my mind.

my biggest qualm? the fashion! katniss' in particular.

i mean, it's a MOVIE! with designers and interpretation! but i'm sorta left with my jaw hanging open, wondering where interpretation and design got their signals crossed. the frump of the outfits katniss wore while in the capitol preparing for the games... really? a baggy, unflattering disappointment. i know she picked a t-shirt and pants out of all the clothes in the closet, but i guess in my head she just looked hotter, ha!

and then the interviews! her gem dress that sparkled in hues of red orange and blue turned out to be a cheap looking 90's red iridescent prom dress. i was sad, i wanted her to be stunning but all i could think about was, why?! who made this judgement call? even sequence would have been a huge improvement, and that's saying something from a girl who turns her nose to the stuff (no offense, lots of people can rock it!).

on the subject of the "interviews", peeta (i'm totally team peeta! btw) and his suit. his poor "i bought this off the rack at hot topic" suit. this was the best they could do? as far as their imaginations could take them? don't they know in order to do cienna justice, they have to capture his creations? oh crap... i totally went book nerd there. but i'm only sorta sorry for that, as i like being a picky geek about details (side note: if ever i had a career in the movie business, it would be in set design - my favorite details of anything i watch). where was i? oh yes, peeta's flamed suit. ew! that was exactly the word i saw in my head when he came on screen.

other than that, from book to screen, things get left out and added (was anyone else appalled that the words "spider monkey" came out of bella's mouth?!). but i truly didn't think the additions or cuts made a negative impact on the story line, which is probably what i was most anxious to find out. and now that i know i wasn't disappointed in the meat and potatoes of the movie, i have to see it again, for what it is. and not a comparison.

i'm also hoping to soak in more details... the gritty look and blurred panning shots made it a tad hard to be engulfed in the capitol's brightness and luxury. i didn't agree with the "look" of the film, but it was still enjoyable. that's my oxymoron for the day.

back to the theater! so i can fall in love with the movie.

p.s. thanks for the fun night out sharon! it was so good to see you!