Rants With Few Raves

Eleven months down, one to go. There is so much yet to do (so much still to sew!). And even as the timeline of Jack's deployment dwindles, I'm not ready to count my blessings.

It should be really interesting to see how Quinn reacts to him in 3-D; a bit hard to imagine really considering how she fawns over the many forms his 2-Dimensional Self takes online and around the house. Equally as interesting will be how he takes to her toothy grin, as well as the torture her new tusks cost her…

In many ways it feels as if time has done laps around me and it can’t possibly have been an entire year that we’ve been apart. And yet, I can’t remember a time where I wasn’t a Mom; it's as if that was a lifetime ago. Not to be Vanna Vanity girl, but of course there are moments where I worry about how much more real estate Jack will find in my back pocket since my body gave forth to another life. Or how many more wrinkles I’ve accrued due to the sleepless schedule of parenthood.

As if to reassure me that I’m not the only human in the room, Jack has his moments too. Obsessing for a moment about something other than the armed men in the mountains, he tells me how “flabby” and “out of shape” he is… which is just as ridiculous of a concern to my ears as mine are to him. All I want is for him to come back alive, healthy, sane and happy. That’s reasonable isn’t it?

Honestly, it's been a tough time. As it is for all of those out of reach from the people they love… particularly when that loved one is in harm’s way. It’s no fun. When a bad phone calls come (the worst news doesn’t come in a call, but by car), it puts life in perspective.

Thoughts like “Is the expansion of my ass inversely connected to my memory’s constricting capacity?!?” don’t exist. The only thought that does is that someone’s life just changed in an instant, from one breath to the next, and how really painful that news is for them, and would be for me. Each of us can only hope to eke through this time without any serious wounds or damage, and every last day counts.

My friend Jill is in the same boat. It’s been entertaining to hear someone else put words to the feelings and frustrations of military life. We rant, and sometimes rave, but mostly rant. Having been in the high brow branch of military herself (the Air Force, of course), Jill isn't exactly a fan of the Army.

Recently though, her husband talked her down from "hating" it outright, but I think it’s safe to say she won’t be calling the Army her BFF (best friend forever) anytime soon. At least it is through the Army we have countless friends who can relate, and help buffer the headlines that can make for the most anxious of days...

Before I start counting days, I’m counting the many boxes I need to pack and miles Quinn and I need to travel to welcome Jack home… Once he is, I'll be counting all my blessings, that's for sure.

Still Suspended in Time,
J & Miss Quinn