Wife Swap (?)

I realize that I owe you all an update (yes, I actually AM aware of the passing of time in this crazy life of mine) but instead I am writing this in response to Kristle's recent SpouseBuzz article about Wife Swap (read her post HERE).

Having never actually watched an entire episode of Wife Swap, it is tough for me to say whether or not I would be willing to do this show (I am guessing NOT....and it is a moot point because Jarhead would NEVER agree to this!!!) however, even if I was willing to swap, and even if hubby agreed to it, I know for a fact that the show's producers could NEVER find anyone willing to take on my insane life for any period of time.

The manual I would have to leave for anyone so crazy would probably go something like this:


"Welcome to our insane asylum. If you did not bring your own meds, well sorry - you'll wish you had. If you feel the need to 'borrow' some, borrow mine, they're the BEST.  But they always run out, so good luck with that.  In an emergency, you can borrow my 'backup meds':

As you will notice when you enter our home, dust is a NOUN here, not a verb.  (it is something that is HERE, not something I DO)  If this bothers you, feel free to waste your time constantly shifting the never-ending supply of dust from one surface to another.  I prefer to spend my time tending to the needs of all the men in my life:




This is Jarhead.

He is always right. Don't question it, just know that he IS always right. He has a charming mix of Bi-polar symptoms and O.C.D., with A.D.D. tendencies and some violent anger outbursts thrown in for fun. I am pretty sure this is actually undiagnosed PTSD, unless maybe he is taking asshole pills behind my back.  DON'T POKE THIS BEAR.  He doesn't regularly take any meds, much to my dismay.  Your best bet is to provide timely meals that are at least a little appealing, with plenty of salt and cold Coke Zero.  Desserts help, too.  Serve with a remote control on the side, and stay out of his line of sight.  Do NOT, under any circumstances, make fun of his incessant channel surfing.  He is only home 3 out of every seven days, so just keep the peace while he's home, and you can breathe easier and stop walking on eggshells for four straight days.




This is Bonehead. 

He will be 18 in 149 days, but who's counting? He is ridiculously funny, but even more ridiculously inappropriate.  If you are easily offended, bring ear plugs or an iPod so you can ignore him.  99.9% of everything that comes out of his mouth is a meaningless joke, anyway.  He can be trusted to babysit the toddler for a few hours at a time, but be prepared to come home to this scene if you take advantage of this:

(yes, that is a baby asleep in a laundry hamper)

Bonehead can also be very violent if provoked, and stands a full 6' 4" so don't poke THIS bear, either.  His primary trigger is anyone mentioning his Asperger's Syndrome, or anything that he perceives to be a reference to this.  One recent meltdown started with me saying, "you would be good at X" because he assumed that my reason for thinking he would be good at it was because of his Asperger's.  Just give him something constructive to do each day, and give very clear & concise instructions. If you leave room for interpretation, YOU WILL GET his interpretation (and it won't match anything you could ever come up with on your own).  Ask him to show you his speed-solving skills with his Rubik's Cube - this is phenomenal to see, and he is always happy to show off.




This is Knucklehead.

He is our 'perfect child'.  Or was, until he hit middle school. Now he occasionally brings out a teenage attitude, but generally uses this to go pout in solitude.  He can be trusted to watch the toddler, but is not great about changing diapers - so limit your errands to 2 hours or less, if you leave Knucklehead in charge.  He will spend his free time playing videogames, shooting hoops at the park down the street, or playing with his little brother.  He is low-maintenance, but don't forget to give him some attention or you'll see that attitude I mentioned above.




This is Bobblehead.

He loves eggs and hates being told what to do.  He knows he is cute, so beware! He will use those dimples against you if he can.  He naps pretty well (finally!) and sleeps through the night, but is very dependent on certain routines and comfort items to make this happen.  See the 'sleep manual' provided in a separate volume. He wiggles during diaper changes, as he seems to think his purpose in life is to streak around the house naked.  He throws a mean tantrum, but can usually be distracted from a fit with a ball; any ball will work, but basketballs are his favorite. He also loves splashing in water... ANY kind of water (keep bathrooms off limits or he will play in the toilet)

His language has been a little slow to develop, but is now picking up, so you can expect him to learn hundreds of new words during your stay here.  Please don't teach him any four-letter-words, as I have worked very hard to curb my own swearing to keep him from repeating anything that might embarrass me, say, at church.  Or at the Christian Preschool where I teach (that's another whole manual there).  Bobblehead gives the BEST cuddles, so if there are no 'meds' or 'backup meds' in the house, his snuggly hugs and kisses should get you through the rough days.  They certainly do for me."

What would you put in your manual, if you went on Wife Swap? Post in the comments below, or better yet make a blog post about this and put the link in a comment below :)

As always, THANKS SO MUCH for reading!


   

more running to stand still

I've been trying to sit down and blog for the past few days, but just don't know what to say.  I even missed Amber's music linkup for the first time EVER. This week has just sucked SO BAD.  I posted earlier in the week about some of the struggles we're dealing with as a family, but can't even really put into words what I'm actually going through right now.

Bonehead came home yesterday, but has been a complete jerk since he got here.  I feel like I'm bending over backward to please everyone and all it gets me is kicked in the teeth.  I seriously think that I will soon be the mother of a HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT.  Sad thing is, this kid is such a genius! He's throwing so much away right now.  I did make it clear to him that I am on his side, and that is exactly WHY his last day to live here will be Nov 24 (his 18th birthday).  Seems I'm good at kicking people out, huh? :(

Speaking of which, I finally talked to my hubby for a few minutes on the phone yesterday - first contact we've had since I asked him to leave last Monday following his meltdown.  He is still very angry about pretty much everything, mostly just mad at ME at the moment for making him go.  It's not like he left me any choice, the way he blew up here!  I'm a little bit scared that he'll blow up like that at work, where he carries a gun.....the consequences could be SO MUCH WORSE than just having to go stay with his grandmother for awhile.  Not scared enough to actually call his supervisors to warn them or anything, but still it's a little nagging worry in the back of my mind.  I'm also a little scared that he will retaliate financially against me & the kids - you know, stop paying the mortgage, etc. I have a new job starting this week, but it will basically only be enough to feed us & that's it - I can't pay any of the other household expenses with the little bit of money I'll be making.  And, when I look at this honestly, I am still scared that he could come back here to confront me, try to force his way into the house, etc, and this time really hurt someone.  If I was not physically afraid of him, I would not have asked him to leave to begin with.

I keep waiting for him to call and actually APOLOGIZE to me.  Not a weak, "I'm sorry your feelings were hurt" kind of thing, but a true, "I'm sorry, can you forgive me?" kind of thing.  Maybe with flowers, I guess, I don't know.  But he's not anywhere near even recognizing how far he went this time, and even if he does recognize that he crossed a line, he won't admit that to anyone else.

I reach for my phone several times a day to call or text him, but I always manage to talk myself out of it, knowing he really needs some time and some space to figure things out right now.  It is SO HARD for me to just leave it be....but I know in my heart that I HAVE TO leave it, for now at least.  So I keep busy instead, and by the time I even have TIME to call or text him, it's well past bedtime.  He turns his phone off when he goes to bed, so at least that normally keeps me from acting on the urge to at least CHECK on him.  Last night after a glass (or 3) of wine, I finally did send him a sappy text about how I will always love him, even if it has to be from a distance.  He didn't even get the text until late this morning, and of course now that I am sober I'm kicking myself for sending it.

MUST. RESIST. TEMPTATION.

:/

This is one of the hardest things I have ever done, but now I have to look at this as though I am the parent and Hubby is the child here (because psychologically, he kind of IS....or at least is acting like a child!)  If I give in and let him come home WITHOUT getting help, he'll never get help.  On top of that, he'll never take me seriously again, which would then be setting me up for a lifetime of abuse.  I CAN'T live that way, and I sure as hell don't want my boys to grow up seeing that example of how to treat a woman!  I put my foot down, and now I have to stand by my word.....he can NOT come home until he has gotten some help - at least counseling, preferably coupled with some pysch meds.  The meds part is not a deal breaker for me, but I know he could be so much more functional/content/HAPPY with a llittle chemical help right now.

*sigh* Well, off to do a little more running nowhere - literally this time, on a treadmill.  Then I'll run around and stay busy the rest of the day so I won't follow up that text with a 'please come home' text.  I really do miss him, but even when he is HERE, he's not really himself anyway - not since Afghanistan.  I want my REAL hubby back!  The one I would never have needed to be AFRAID of.  The one who used to laugh and play and LIVE his life.  OUR life, together.   I'm pretty sure THAT man is never coming back, and the grief over that is overwhelming.

insomnia

I've been trying so hard not to badmouth my husband on here, or air our dirty laundry, etc.  But so many of you can clearly see how much I am hurting, even if you don't have all the dirty details. If nothing else, I am sure most of you have noticed the lack of real posts on here lately.  Linkups, sure.  Recipes, why not? But actual posts, with CONTENT, substance? Nope. Not lately.  I've just been keeping it all inside (or trying to).

So tonight, my fourth sleepless night this week, I am spilling my guts - in hopes that it will clear my head so I can at least get some sleep.  Or, maybe talking about what I am going through can help someone else to avoid this painful situation?

I'm still skimming over a lot of details, but need to get the general story out.

There has never been physical abuse in this marriage, and there still isn't. But there has been some serious verbal and emotional abuse.  Once, about 8 years ago, the verbal abuse got so bad that I wanted to die.  I was honestly planning my own suicide.  I knew my children would be devastated if I took the cowardly route I was considering, so I didn't follow through with it.  Somehow in a rare moment of clarity, I also realized that my children were being harmed by what they were witnessing.  What was I teaching them by ALLOWING anyone to treat me that way?

So I stood up for myself, told him to get out.  He refused to leave, so I left....sort of. There was this big dramatic scene straight out of an after school special, where he begged me not to go, then physically blocked the door so I couldn't leave, and even refused to move his car so I couldn't get mine out.  I pretended to have a spine, for the sake of my kids, and left ON FOOT. Knucklehead was just a toddler at the time, so I had him in his stroller, and had Bonehead (then about 7 years old) holding on to the handle of the stroller. The few possessions I had managed to grab on the way out the door were stuffed into the little basket underneath.  I didn't have a plan, didn't even have a cell phone, so I headed down the block toward town in search of a payphone, frantically going through a mental list of WHO I could even call.....where would we even go?

And then he caught up with me, all apologies, begging and pleading with me to stay. And, predictably, I caved - but only after getting him to PROMISE me that he would get some counseling, go to some kind of anger management, etc. He didn't actually go to any counseling, at least not at that point.  But the yelling, name calling, and general disrespect he had been showing me did stop. He simply replaced it with other forms of emotional abuse.

And I took it.

It's not fair to characterize him ONLY as this bully, because he is so much more than that. (Duh. Why else would I stay?) He is smart, funny, and of course VERY good looking.  He has this way of looking at me from across a crowded room and making me feel as if I am the only woman in the world - like he is not aware that the rest of the world even exists, when he looks at me like that. He can kiss me in a way that makes me SURE he's some kind of wizard or something, because there is absolute MAGIC in those lips. He makes me feel indescribably good - when he's not making me feel like I am *this big*.




Throughout several more years, as we both grew, changed, and matured some, the mental/emotional abuse diminished. There are a lot of reasons for this, most of which I am only beginning to understand right now.  But when things came to a head 2 years ago, and our marriage was 'over' (or so I thought) I had to really do some deep soul searching.  I had to figure out WHO I was, and why I had let this man drive me crazy (literally) by convincing me that I was crazy.  Sounds funny to say it that way, but that's the most basic way I can break down what he did to me in those years.

I had to heal that 'crazy' before I could do anything else, and the process was (IS) very painful.

When I made the life-changing decision to take him back, to start over again, it was with a lot more knowledge, confidence, and (finally) backbone than I had ever had before.  After months of 'separation' and preparing for a divorce, we both had regrets, but didn't want to waste time looking back - just wanted to move forward, to our future TOGETHER.  We both swore, never again would we hurt each other or let anyone else hurt us. Ever.

So we moved forward, and while I can't claim things were picture perfect, we were at least 'whole'. I was a whole person, HE was a whole person, and we were a whole couple......an US.  He had finally gotten counseling before the big split, and continued it after we got back together. We still had disagreements, but we handled them like grownups, and kept moving FORWARD....to the baby we had both been wanting to have for ten years, among other things.

Nothing is ever perfect, but for about six months we functioned well, we grew and matured even more, and we cherished each other.  Then we conceived Bobblehead the same week that he got orders for deployment. We had about 4 months before his actual departure, but of course there were trainings and workups, so things got a little strained.  But we dealt with it.  Mature, loving adults, facing all of these challenges TOGETHER.

By the time he left for Afghanistan in May 2010, I was convinced that everything we'd been through so far had made us strong enough to get through anything. 
(fun fact about me: I am terminally NAIVE)

Something happened to him over there, and while he fights his way back to some kind of normal, he has reverted to some of the same crappy behavior from years earlier......initially it was just this ridiculously huge invisible wall that he put up between us when he came home in December. But within a couple weeks, I started feeling the way I used to with him, years ago: small. insignificant. nothing.

I fell back into the old 'battered woman' habits of making excuses for him.

"He's still getting used to being home, he just needs time/space/etc"


"He's dealing with all the changes that took place while he was gone - especially the new baby"


"He doesn't KNOW how much he's hurting me, or he would definitely stop."


"I'm just being too sensitive because of my own issues (post partum depression, etc.)"

After a couple of months with no improvement, I begged him to get help for his 'issues'. He still refuses to acknowledge any kind of mental health problems, but he made all the promises, said all the right words.  And still  kept this distance between us.

I sought counseling on my own, because I did NOT want to go back to the darkness I used to live in.  Counseling has helped me, more than anything to be very clear and very specific when asking him for what I want or need.

And still, six months after his return, he won't open up, connect, or really BE here with me.

Can't? Won't? at this point there is little difference, as far as I am concerned. The result is still the same.

I still have this horrible emptiness inside me, and I continue to fill that void with food.  Every pound I gain is a testament to my own misery and weakness....and HIS weakness, in my view.  I keep thinking, if he could only be strong enough to live up to the promises he made in those six months before active duty, and those four months before he actually left....if he could just be strong enough to really COME BACK to us, then things would be OK.

And then I think that *I* need to be the strong one, need to move on and get healthy, inside and out. For me, and for my kids. But I can't find a way to do any of that and still stay in this painful marriage.

I feel so much guilt for even considering LEAVING (or asking him to leave) when he's clearly suffering.  He's fragile, and needs me now more than ever, whether he knows that or not.  It's not HIS fault that he came back so damaged, right? He's made so much progress in his professional life in the past few months...still a long way to go to 'normal' but he is at least FUNCTIONAL.  I still love him every bit as much as I did before he left for that third deployment.....

But is it really OK for me to suffer through this - IN FRONT OF MY CHILDREN?  They see all of this, they know that dad makes mom cry ALL.THE.TIME.  They don't have to know the details of how or why he is torturing me, to see the devastating results.

The burning question that keeps me awake at night, is "What am I teaching my children by allowing anyone to treat me this way?"

Will my boys grow up to be mean, manipulative, abusive husbands?  If they do, I have no one else to blame....it will be MY fault.

DEVASTATED.

Three little words, and I felt the walls falling in all around me AGAIN.

I think it is my own fault that I keep feeling so LET DOWN, because I am just dumb enough to get my hopes up that things will finally get better.  Back to 'normal'.  Whatever that is.

So, what are the three words that broke my heart this past weekend?  "I'm not interested."

And he wasn't even talking about SEX, although he might as well have been....we've only been 'intimate' three times in the past six weeks!  Enough to make me scream in frustration, and cry those bitter tears of self-pity because he just doesn't WANT me.  But I don't scream or cry, I just stay calm(ish) and I keep fighting for US.  I keep hoping.  Stupid hope.

The three hated words were actually used when I told hubby about an e-mail I got from the FRO about this AWESOME opportunity for hubs and I to attend a weekend "RWW" program....Returning Warrior Workshop, which is "an interactive weekend where the Marines will not only benefit from numerous resources on-site, but also have the opportunity to speak with mental health professionals, chaplains, and unit leadership"  The email said it was specifically targeted to married Marines and their spouses who experienced high stressors during deployment, either in theater or on the homefront.  Um, HELLO, that's US!  And it's a FREE "Yellow Ribbon" weekend.  They will even reimburse us for travel expenses!  Not a be-all, end-all perfect solution, but it sounds like a pretty good start.  Stupid of me to hope that hubby will actually WANT to do anything about this ridiculous divide between us.  I think the keyword he heard was "mental health professionals" and he literally cut me off with the horrid "I'm not interested".  Verbal knife-hand.

And I can't think of anything to DO about this, except cry another river.  And, well, that hasn't exactly been working well for me in the six months since he returned from deployment.

This just freaking SUCKS!

I mean, overall, life really isn't all that bad here.....we've settled down some, and Bonehead's drama is minimal (for now).  We don't really fight or yell as much....maybe once every two weeks or so?  Ha - about as often as we have sex, I guess.  If I thought more fighting would equal more sex, I would go wake up my snoring husband RIGHT NOW and pick a fight.  A BIG ONE.  If I thought that would work.  Even if it would work, it would be the disappointing version of sex that somehow passes for him these days.....not so much for me. *AHEM*  But anyway, we're barely existing right now.  I want to LIVE!  I want to MOVE FORWARD, instead of just barely treading water.

I honestly try so hard to see some light at the end of the tunnel.  I'm normally pretty good at that stuff - a FATAL OPTIMIST.  But right now, thanks to those three little words, I seriously don't even see how we have a FUTURE to look forward to!  I mean, here we are, desperately in need of something to help us with this incredibly difficult transition, and instead of grabbing on with both hands, he just SLAPS IT AWAY. "Im not interested"  WTF?!?!  Well I am, damn it. 

But as usual, I can't do this by myself.

BY MYSELF.  Those two words are the only ones I hate more than his three little words.




WARNING!!! THE FOLLOWING IS A SHAMELESS PLUG:

* if you want to cheer me up, come join in my weekly viral video linkup!  It goes up every Sunday and stays open until Monday night, midnight (Pacific time).  It's really been struggling lately, and I'm considering pulling the plug, but if YOU participate, maybe I can keep it going.  Keep SOMETHING going.*

another meltdown

Last night SUCKED.  We're still getting over it, actually.

I had pre-made an enchilada bake for dinner, and I put it in the oven to warm for a few minutes before church, figuring I could turn the oven off as we walked out the door and it would continue warming while we were gone.  (We go to church Sunday evenings) At the last minute I found out that hubby was not going with us, so I set a timer for half an hour, and asked hubby to listen for it and turn it off.

No problem, right?

Well when I got home from church the house smelled kind of.....scorched.  I expected to pull this out of the oven:

But instead I found that hubby had already removed THIS from the oven:

I may or may not have cried.....and eventually may or may not have yelled at hubby, using some very colorful language.

Oh yeah, did I mention that my father-in-law was here for the whole debacle? Fortunately I had all the fixings for tacos, so we had a yummy (late) dinner. 

NOT a good night. 

To make things worse, my attempt at an apology for losing my temper only caused hubby to lose HIS temper, so we fought for over an hour after everyone was in bed.  I'm pretty sure FIL heard every word.

It's amazing how something as simple stupid as not turning off the oven can ruin everyone's night.  And since hubby left for work this morning for the week, it kinda ruined our whole week.

**edit: I failed to mention that the reason hubby did not hear the timer is that he went outside and got distracted by the weeds, which he then went manic on....and when he came back through the garage he noticed bird poop on his new car, so of course he HAD to wash the car, right then and there. SIGH.**

being a 'fat girl'...

Last week I wrote (finally) about my weight issues.

Being fat is it's own punishment for all the bad eating habits & physical laziness, and yet sometimes it seems the world is trying to punish me for being fat, anyway.


Attractive clothing in FAT sizes is impossible to find. Not just difficult, IMPOSSIBLE.  Who decided that fat women should wear huge bright floral prints everywhere?  Not only does this make me feel even FATTER, but it is as far as you could possibly get from my personal style!  And this "small, medium, large" system we have is an absolute JOKE.  Even in most size 2X or 3X stuff I look like someone poured me in and forgot to say 'when'.

Oh, and bras? For fat girls? Yeah, RIGHT! Even at the fat-girl stores (my favorite is Lane Bryant) they don't carry bras in my size...currently 38H. Yeah, I said H, as in HOLY SHIT THOSE ARE HUGE!

Movie theater seats.  The kind that DON'T have that armrest that you can push up out of the way.  Once I find out that a certain movie theater has those kinds of seats, I make sure never to go back there.  The 'Bob Barker Studio' at CBS, where they film The Price Is Right, has the old fashioned theater seats.  I've attended 17 tapings there, and only the last couple times did I have a little trouble getting out of my seat every time the audience was supposed to stand up. I desperately want to go back and try at least ONE MORE TIME to be on the show, when Bobblehead is a little older (it's an all-day thing and I can't be away from him for more than a couple hours these days) but my weight will keep me away until I can drop a SIGNIFICANT amount of it.

Those turnstile-thingies that you have to walk through to enter an amusement park or train station, etc. ENOUGH SAID.

Amusement park rides.

Restaurant booths!

Baseball stadium seating, airline seating, or any other public place where strangers are expected to sit butt-to-butt in a space barely adequate for an 'average sized' adult.

If you've never BEEN a fat girl, then you probably don't know about the many (MANY) physically uncomfortable and even painful 'side effects' of being fat.  For instance, I have fat rolls that stick together when I sweat (which is nearly always, because this extra insulation keeps my body temperature abnormally high).  The sticking together isn't painful, but the 'peeling apart' is.....like when I have to adjust my position in my airline seat so that I am not overflowing onto the passenger next to me, for instance. For me, this particular problem is at its worst when I am trying to go to sleep, and I toss and turn and try to get comfortable in bed.  You know how the surface of the water ripples when you toss a pebble into it?  Well my body, with all its fat rolls, has its own ripple effect.  If I move one part of my body, I have now shoved fat rolls against other fat rolls, and at some point I am somehow chafing or pinching myself - simply because I tried to adjust the angle of my damned PILLOW!  Then there's the extra strain on my joints, and the shortness of breath when I have to climb the stairs, etc. 

Probably the most painful thing about being fat is the way I look in pictures.  Somehow, the whole mirror thing is easier to handle...I either avert my eyes, or I conjure up memories of my thinner/healthier self, and I just don't SEE the reality in front of me.  Some kind of self-protective denial?  But in photographs, there is no way to play any tricks with what is already staring me (and everyone else) in the face.  I see myself in a picture and go, "WOW, do I really LOOK like that????" 

So, yeah, I avoid cameras as much as I can.  That being said, I am about to get REALLY brave and post some real, honest, RAW pictures for you all to see.....I feel like I should post some kind of disclaimer or warning or something here, but can't think of what to say.  Just, view at your own risk, I guess.

sleep deprivation

Friday night was certainly not the WORST night I've ever had, but it pretty much SUCKED.

To start with, I was BEYOND tired when I put the baby to bed, and still had to go back downstairs to do dishes. I considered letting them sit overnight, but knew I had too much to do in the morning to add 'dishes' to my list. So I finished the dishes and dragged myself to bed around 10:30, stopping briefly to say goodnight to hubby. Hubby, at that moment, was in the middle of 'lecturing' Bonehead about his laziness, etc. etc. so I knew he would not be joining me in bed any time soon.

I tossed and turned for over an hour, then fell into a light sleep, & immediately had a CRAZY dream about being stalked, which woke me up of course. My dreams are freaking psychotic sometimes. Well, most of the time, actually. Okay, they're ALWAYS like that. Hence the insomnia.

So, I finally drift back to sleep after the crazy dream, and hubby bursts into the room announcing that I might have to take him to the hospital, since Bonehead just stabbed him in the hand with a pencil.

HUH?

I was seriously confused and asked hubs if he was joking, which got me a rude snort and a bloody hand thrust into my face. Since I was temporarily blinded by the light he had just turned on, it took me a second to focus.

Yep, definitely a bloody hand.

I helped him clean the hand and applied pressure, though it wasn't really actively bleeding. While I played doctor, I tried to get the story out of hubs about what the HECK happened between him and 16 year-old Bonehead, but was stonewalled. I handed him the Neosporin and went to get the story out of Bonehead, but was stonewalled there, too.

This was about 12:30 AM, and I had been *TRYING* to sleep for about two hours, with maybe 15 or 20 minutes of success. So, yeah, I was freaking CRANKY!

I flopped back into bed, and was just falling asleep AGAIN, when hubby climbed into bed next to me. I can't even begin to describe the jealousy I felt when he started snoring literally within a minute of his head hitting his pillow.

So, yeah, I MIGHT have muttered an expletive moments later when Baby Bobblehead woke up hungry. And I may or may not have slammed the baby monitor so hard on my (NEW) nightstand that it left a mark in the wood.

Fast forward to 1:15 AM, baby back in bed, everyone else in the house snoring away, and me...tossing and turning again. I must have fallen asleep by 2:00 because I don't remember any clock-checks past about 1:45. A couple more crazy dreams later, and the @#$%^&%$#@! baby monitor was ordering me to get up AGAIN at 5:00 AM.

Fine, the 5 AM feeding is usually a fast one, at least. USUALLY. This time I sat with Bobblehead for almost an hour, and he was just NOT showing any signs of sleepiness! He nursed, was totally full, and just wanted to PLAY. Normally, I am all about playing with this cute little boy, but on 3-ish hours of sleep, not so much.

I finally brought him back into my bed, hoping to be able to nurse him back to sleep there. Since we have blackout curtains in our room, I was all set to 'sleep in' until my alarm was scheduled to go off at 8:30. Bobblehead slept, Hubby slept, and I DID NOT.

At 7:30 AM, on 3-ish hours of sleep, I finally got up with yet another expletive, and dragged myself into the shower, and started my day. Bobblehead sat in his bouncer-seat in front of the shower, and I am pretty sure he was mocking me.

UN-EFFING-BELIEVABLE!

Have you ever been so sleep deprived that you are just SILLY with it? (think "Momma Dog video" and you know what I mean) Well that was me today, only somehow I managed to be productive anyway. Hey, I even managed to BLOG today! Well, technically it's almost 11 PM, which means I should be sleeping, but hey - plenty of time for sleep when I'm dead, right?

Valentine's fail

I have been waiting all week to write this post, procrastinating, hoping it would become unnecssary/untrue.

I am BEYOND pissed that my husband did ZILCH for me for Valentine's Day this year.  He is depressed, and I do understand how debilitating depression can be - but DANG!  He asked me weeks ago what I wanted for V-day, and I told him all I really wanted was a DATE with him. Dinner, and maybe a movie that does not involve zombies or aliens or gratuitously bloody shootouts. 

By last week, it had become apparent that having MIL come over to babysit for said date was going to create more stress than it was worth, so I gave up on the idea of a date, and told hubby that instead I would like an Amazon.com gift card so I can buy some new e-books for my Kindle.  That night (Friday - three days BEFORE V-day) he told me that whatever I was going to get for V-day would probably be late.  I joked about it, saying, "so, in other words, no different than the last dozen or so Valentine's Days".... he didn't appreciate my humor, but that was he end of discussion.

The next day (Saturday) my friend/neighbor/babysitter texted me to offer to babysit for free that night if we wanted to go out on a date.  I was SO excited to tell hubby, who rudely shrugged it off.  So, no date.

I was bummed, but kept my chin up anyway.  Monday rolled around, and I kind of HOPED he would pull himself out of his funk and go shopping for SOME kind of gift for me.  That never happened. 

Here it is Friday, four days after Valentine's Day, and still NOTHING - even though he HAS been into town a few times in the past couple of days, and he HAS shopped on amazon this week (for himself).

I feel forgotten again.

AGAIN.

Should I say anything to him?  I am worried that the resentment will build (& explode) if I don't speak up.  But I am also worried that anything I say will be misunderstood and will lead to a nasty argument.

Its not about THINGS, or how much money he spends, etc.  It's about being an afterthought, a shadow in the background.  I really NEEDED, now more than ever, for him to show me that I matter to him - that he thinks of me and loves me. 

Seriously, not even a freaking CARD????

Am I wrong to feel so hurt about this?

SERIOUSLY????

My husband asks some really DUMB questions sometimes, but this one takes the cake.

I have been SO overwhelmed by stress lately, and finally got to sit down with him yesterday and tell him how I felt, and I proposed a solution: I want to QUIT my ridiculously part-time job.  It has never been worth the money, especially now that I have to pay for babysitting.  I literally make less than $100/month after I pay the babysitter (and she is working for next-to-nothing!)  But the money isn't the reason I want to quit - it's the stress.  Every freaking morning I have to wake up early so I can pump breastmilk for the baby, and nurse him, and get us all out the door on time for my AM crossing guard shift.  It takes me TWO hours to get ready for a ONE hour shift, and the whole time I am there I am stressing about getting back to the baby (*working mommies, how do you DO it?*) 

Now, my breastpump is the manual kind, for 'occasional' use, and I find I have to pump with every feeding to keep my supply up so I have some to send in a bottle to the babysitter each day.  Sometimes the baby needs the bottle, sometimes he doesn't.  But I am having trouble keeping my supply up for this, and am SICK AND TIRED of the hand cramps and callouses that come from using this manual pump 5 or 6 times a day, only to discover that I can't even get an OUNCE of milk at a time sometimes.  Beyond frustrating.  So, yesterday when hubby heard ignored my pleas, I told him that if I am going to
keep working then I need an electric breast pump - minimum $130.  He didn't say yes or no to that one, but definitely shot down my idea of quitting.

SIGH

So, this morning after my shift, I came home and made hubby breakfast in bed (yes, his lazy ass was STILL in bed at 10 AM by the time I finished cooking this awesome meal for him!) Baby Bobblehead was getting fussy, so I took hubby his food then sat down to nurse the baby.  Hubby came downstairs to witness the I-don't-want-to-take-a-nap tantrum that Bobblehead throws a couple times a day, and then asked me why the baby is so cranky lately.  I told him I think the baby senses my stress, and hubby asked me the DUMBEST question ever:

"What could you possibly have to be stressed about?"


REALLY???? Seriously????

He is lucky he had already eaten his heart-shaped breakfast, because otherwise I might have dumped the damned plate in his lap.

Happy f-ing Valentine's Day, you insensitive jerk!

Crap.

I am so freaking angry right now, it hurts. Literally HURTS.

I'm PISSED.

I've been hanging by a thread for awhile now, and no amount of pretending can save me from the inevitable fall that will happen when my grip gives out.

Which honestly could happen any time now.

Maybe even today.

This anger is just going to eat away at me until I let it all out. I desperately want to let it out here, in blogland, where I feel safe. But I think it is only fair to Hubby that I talk this out with him first, since he is the one I feel like killing.

Yes, I am mad at my husband. Surprised? You shouldn't be! Read back through my blog, you'll see what I mean.

While I try to figure out a way to express this anger, I feel like complete shit, and I think I am having a panic attack. Or a heart attack.

Either way, getting mad freaking hurts. I don't like this.

Confessions

This may be a little TOO honest for some people....but I hope I don't lose any friends or followers over this post.

So, first confession: I am so RELIEVED whenever hubby leaves for work. Things have been so tense around here, that when he leaves it's like a mini-vacation for me.

Awful, right? I think I totally FAIL at being a wife.

Confession number two: Sometimes I fantasize about running away - all by myself, just starting over where no one knows me.

Horrible. I fail at being a mommy too.

Hubby started his leave tonight, and will be around A LOT for the next few weeks. This will either be a very good thing, or will be very, very bad.

My old positive self seems to have disappeared, and my negative self is trembling in fear at what this leave will bring.

And the biggest confession: no matter how much I love my husband (and I always will) right now I really don't LIKE him very much at all. Sometimes I think I might even hate him.

Actually, what I really hate is deployment. And reintegration.

Whiskey tango foxtrot?!

Warning: this post will fall under the TMI category for some of you.

If you are offended, fuck off! Oh yeah, language advisory, too. FUCK.

Sorry, I am in a bitchy mood, can you tell?

I am pretty sure this mood was caused by deployment/reintegration, but let me break it down for you, so you can tell me what YOU think brought out my inner bitch.

See, I don't think it was the costco-trip-from-hell (though I hope I can someday come up with the words to describe that one - maybe in a future post?)

Nor do I think that my mood has anything to do with my mother in law, though she is doing her best to get on my last nerve.

It's definitely not caused pre-holiday stress, but maybe thats a small contributing factor?

I'm pretty darned sure this is a 'lack-of-sex' kind of cranky.

Yes, you read that right.

LACK.

OF.

SEX.

Hubby has been back from Funghanistan for a full week, and we've had sex three times - counting the two times that I initiated it.

WTF?!

Oh, and hubby was a lot less, well, EXCITED than usual. A lot less.

First night, I attacked him as soon as I knew Bobblehead was asleep for the night. This was after Hubby had been napping for like 6 hours, so the 'too tired' excuse just won't hold water here. It was fun, aside from the fact that I felt like he wasn't really that into it.

Second night I thought for sure he would be back on his game - but when he made no move to start anything with me, I took the initiative again. This time it took a little less, well, 'fluffing' to get him ready, but I still felt like he was not really enjoying himself.

By the third night, I let my hurt feelings take over and keep me from starting anything - and when hubby promptly began snoring, I did that stupid silent-cry thing...for a couple HOURS. Just lying there next to him, sobbing, resenting him for even being ABLE to sleep.

Fourth night he repeated his snore-fest, and I really wanted to wake him up, scream, yell, figure out what the hell was wrong with him. Or with me. But I could not bring myself to wake him (maybe part of me does not want to know?). Instead, I took a long bubble bath and stayed up reading/facebooking until I couldn't keep my eyes open, then crawled into bed beside Mr. Oblivious for a couple hours of fitful sleep.

Thankfully, the next morning he woke up horny, but then Bobblehead woke up and we rushed to the finish line....leaving me wondering if our 'fireworks' would ever come back. But in the post-quickie haze, as I nursed Bobblehead back to sleep, I did find the courage to tell hubby how I had perceived his lack of desire for me as all-out rejection, and he apologized and kissed me - promising me that he DOES still want me.

Really? Got a funny way of showing that. Fifth, sixth, and seventh nights all brought NO action. And now that I've made my feelings known, my poor bruised ego will not let me start anything with him.

So, either my post-baby body looks WAY worse than I thought it did, or....

FUCKING DEPLOYMENT STOLE MY HUBBY'S LIBIDO.

Either way, I'm screwed. And not in a good way.

I knew there was a chance things would not necessarily go smoothly our first time or two post-deployment/post-baby. I figured it could take, oh, I don't know TEN TIMES to get our mojo back? Sadly, at the rate we're going, it could be Valentine's Day by the time we reach ten times.  And there's a pretty good chance I will hate him by then. Or hate myself.

So, what do you think? was this bitchy mood brought on by deployment/reintegration?

You know in the end I'm just a comment whore, so please, show me some love! Drop a line - even if it's to tell me I am way OUT of line with this post.

Just comment.

Insomnia

I've slept a grand total of 3 hours in the last 48 hours.  I've had ONE night of actual sleep out of the last ten or so nights.

THIS FREAKING SUCKS!

I'm also DREADING my birthday next week, because it falls just a couple of days before hubby's departure for what may turn out to be our WORST deployment yet.

This is definitely our worst PREdeployment yet.

I put so much energy into pretending that I am okay with this, that I can handle it......it is really exhausting!  And it seems now that hubby is as put off by my ACTING, as he is by the TRUTH - he doesn't want to see the tears and meltdowns, so I've tried to hide those from him. Then he accuses me of ignoring him!  So I try to include him in my crazy 'mom' routine, basketball practice and games, IEP meeting for my teenager, running errands, etc.  and now I am the evil one for planning all his free time, so he can't do anything on his own.

Hubby is supposed to meet his sisters for brunch today, and it looks like he is going to flake on this, and blame THAT on me, too.

His sisters both live about an hour and a half away from here.  We usually all get together a couple times a year for holidays, etc. and he sees them as often as once a week when he is working in that area (when he is not active duty)  But knowing he is going to be gone for 7 or 8 months, his sisters specifically planned this brunch with him today, and I really think he will regret cancelling.  They'll be mad at him, so he will tell them it is my fault.  He will be mad at himself and will ultimately blame me, even though I had NOTHING to do with this.

:(

Maybe I can sleep tonight if I can just figure out how to stop carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders - after all, this is HIM being unable to deal with our daily dose of shit, right?  Why am I letting it effect me so much?

Oh, that's right, BECAUSE I LOVE HIM.

Moving to Australia

OK so I am not really moving to Australia.  It's a line from a children's book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

And today was really THAT crappy.  Not that the book is crappy, in fact its really a good one - one of my favorites!  It's about a kid whose day goes wrong in basically every possible way.

I'm not even going to blog about the day's minor mishaps, like forgetting my carefully packed healthy lunch, or being stranded out in the surprise rain in my flip flops about a mile from the car repair shop, or about my 10 year old being sick at school while I was busy wishing for the umbrella I had left in said car (thankfully a neighbor was available to pick up my sick little man) I won't even write about the crappy off-and-on cell signal that compounded every problem I encountered today.

Instead, this blog is dedicated to my 15 year old son, whom I will refer to as "Bonehead" for his privacy.  Bonehead has not earned many brownie points with me lately (tomorrow I will take pictures to show you what he did to the shrubs in my front yard).....but today aboslutely takes the cake.

Bonehead took his Swiss Army Knife to school today.

YUP.

Automatic 5 day suspension, and recommendation for expulsion.  It's called zero-tolerance, and we have had this conversation so many times!  I didn't even want him to have the stupid knife, but he convinced hubby and me that he could be 'responsible' with it, and of course whenever I remind him that he can't take it to school, I get the teenage eye-roll with the exasperated "I know, Mom".

This knife thing has gotten honor students expelled - and my dear sweet Bonehead is NOT an honor student!  Genius, yes (normally).  Like, FREAKY genius.  He can solve a Rubik's Cube in under 30 seconds, no matter how much you mix it up.  His record is 22.6 seconds.  He's incredibly brilliant - and failing half of his classes.

To be fair, Bonehead has not had anything come easy to him in school.  He has Asperger's Syndrome, which is on the Autistic Spectrum.  It's primarily a social disorder, also often referred to as 'geek syndrome' because most kids with A.S. are pretty smart academically, but they are socially stunted.  Sort of.  Anyway, Bonehead has had MAJOR behavior problems in school, mostly due to A.S. related issues.  Among other things, he is a bully-magnet, and until recently, didn't deal very well with any type of stress or anxiety.  He's making progress, and is currently (or WAS, before today) in all mainstreamed classes.  He is still considered a 'Special Ed. Student' and we have an IEP meeting scheduled for next week.  Now the IEP will also be a sort of 'hearing' to determine whether or not he will be EXPELLED from school. 

So, adding to the problems he already faces, Bonehead had a really violent reaction when he came home to discover that all his 'toys' had magically disappeared.  My mom had to pick him up from the school when they called about the knife issue, because I was 2 hours away getting my car worked on.  He spent the rest of the day with my mom, so by the time she brought him home I had removed ALL of his 'fun stuff' from his bedroom - his guitar (which he taught himself to play 4 years ago - yes he is BRILLIANT) his dice and card games, his Nintendo DS, and yes, even his collection of Rubik's Cubes.   I disabled his computer (it was impractical to physically remove it from his room).  So, when Bonehead figured out that he was seriously grounded, he started stomping around and throwing stuff, and literally tore his bedroom door off its hinges.

This is where Bonehead calmed down, as fear took over.  When my hubby sees this, he is going to FREAK, so dear sweet little Bonehead immediately went for Dad's tool bag, thinking he could fix this.  Well, he split the wood, so he CAN'T fix it.  This knowledge set him off, and he took off on his skateboard.  I had already locked up his bike, and it did not occur to me to confiscate the skateboard, soooooooooo

Now Bonehead is technically a runaway. 

He has been gone for 3 1/2 hours, and the only reason I am calm enough to WRITE this blog is that I am good friends with the mom of Bonehead's best friend.  She called me to let me know when he showed up at her door a couple hours ago, and he was super upset.  She promised to get him home after dinner, and I am honestly grateful for everything she does for my son - but I hope she is not spoiling him, AKA rewarding his tantrum!  She knows what he did - but has never actually seen his meltdowns, and probably feels sorry for him.

*sigh*

Bonehead, I LOVE YOU, but seriously - what the #$%^&*(&^%$#@*@! were you THINKING?????

This ride SUCKS, I demand a refund!

You know those roller coasters that you only go on ONCE?

Yesterday was one of those crappy rides.  Vomit and all.  Well, figuratively, anyway.

Started out OK.....

I had a public speaking thing to do, SMALL group of people (like 40-50) but I was still nervous.  *So this is that part where the roller coaster is 'click-click-clicking' slowly up that first hill.  Anticipation, nervousness, even outright fear.....

I did AWESOME, of course.  Everyone seemed to really listen and respond, and as usual, it really took my breath away.  *First exhilarating drop as the coaster picks up some speed.  See, that wasn't so bad, what was I so afraid of?....

And my son WON his basketball game while I was at my event!  YAY! *Quick little dip of excitement before the roller coaster makes a sudden turn, the kind that whips your head sideways.....

And hubby got to see the basketball game, even though I had to miss it. WOO HOO! *another hair-flipping turn and drop....

Then I totally SCORED by finalizing the sale of some concert tickets that we spent WAY too much money on, and now can't use because of the deployment - got our $500 back!  YEAH BABY! *that was the thrilling loop-de-loop in the middle of the ride - where you only have a second to be scared because you're upside-down, before you are 'safe' again at the other side of the loop.....

We ran some errands and FINALLY got to see a 'chick-flick' type of movie - Date Night.  I haven't been able to pick a movie to watch with these guys in a couple of years, and I just can't take any more action, sci-fi, gross blood-and-guts crap.  Or comic book movies.  Blech.  Anyway, Date Night was a really GREAT movie, and it felt so good to LAUGH, and even better, to hear my husband laughing there next to me! (Yes, I admit it, I have seen a few comedies alone since the guys never want to go to MY choice of movie....saw The Hangover by myself when it was at the cheap theater, LOVED IT - and missed hubby the whole time.) *This was that fast rip-around-blind-corners part of the roller coaster where you can't even scream or laugh because its going so fast - and its the part of the ride where you usually go, "man, I wanna do this AGAIN!"

Then hubby said he needed to talk to me about plans for the next couple of weeks (Disneyland with the kids, etc.) *Oh holy hell, did someone forget to tell me that there was another steep climb at the end of this ride?  There's that loud click-click-clicking again.....OH MY.....

And then the really crappy news came:  Hubby's pre-deployment leave is non-existent this time.  He got a 72 for this weekend, and MIGHT get either 48 or 72 off next weekend, which we will use to pack, and then that's it.  Even though he won't be leaving the country for a week or two after that, he won't be able to come back home until next year. I thought we had two full weeks together before he has to leave! **Roller coaster pauses at the top of the steep hill before plunging downward in a terrifying drop that continues into a freaking cave in the ground, like the one at the Nevada/CA state line - so you can't even see the roller coaster tracks in front of you any more.  This is also the vomit part. 

Deep breaths, get control.....OK so now to find a way to make the best of the next couple of days, right? 
Sat down and blogged about this, trying to wrap my head around it, trying to get a handle on this feeling of being suddenly cheated.  And then my washing machine FLOODED my laundry room.  It's an upstairs laundry room.  Total chaos, which hubby never handles well anyway.  And I was in no place to cope with this after getting such crappy news from hubby.  So I lost it - tears, total meltdown. *This is where the ride gets stopped when you are ALMOST to the end, and you sit there forever because someone lost their hat on the tracks or something, and you have to wait for a ride operator to climb up the fire-escape type ladders to free you and your fellow riders from this bizarre brightly colored vehicle.

Seriously, I think I cried from like 10:30 PM until 2 AM. All while cleaning up the laundry room mess, figuring out how the seal on the front-loader failed, and babysitting two loads of laundry as they cycled through, so I could make sure that I had really and truly fixed the problem.  Hubby was in bed by midnight, after I rudely banished him from the laundry room.  Well, I wasn't being rude, just defensive. 

See, hubby has an innate respect for all things scientific, especially machines - they just don't screw up like people do, right?  So when something DOES go wrong, he always assumes it is due to Operator Error.  Yeah, I am the operator of the washing machine, and NO it was not my freaking fault that it flooded!

If I had married a sensitive-type guy, he would have pulled me into his arms for a big comforting hug when he saw that I had reached my breaking point.  Not my hubby - he instead spent over an HOUR yelling at me for causing this mess - through any combination of 3 or 4 things he imagined I could have done wrong.  Of course, if I had married a more sensitive guy, I wouldn't even be writing this blog at all, because those are not the kind of guys who sign up to save the world.  I guess even when he's a jerk, I have to love and respect my hero.

But CRAP I can't believe we wasted another night arguing!  The evening was pretty much shot anyway, but if we could have handled the laundry crisis a little better (and I am sure I could have kept everyone calm if I was not already unravelling over the 'no-leave' news) then at least, after I cleaned up the mess and confirmed that the machine was in good working order, I could have collapsed into his arms with relief instead of lying there all night on my own side of the bed, resenting his snoring.  His snoring never keeps me awake, just makes me really jealous when I can't sleep.

This morning went a little better, apologies all around, etc. (*AHEM*) wink wink

We're getting a lot done today, but I still feel so freaking cheated.  Like, slimy-car-salesman-cheated.  Or those street-corner shell game guys kind of cheated.  Or pool-shark hustler cheated.

Or like 'I paid WAY too much money, just to go on a crappy roller coaster that gave me whiplash and a wedgie' cheated!

Our 'leave' already LEFT.

:(

OK this is SO not fair!  Hubby came home last night for what was SUPPOSED to be his pre-deployment leave, and now I find out I only get him for 3 days.  Then he's gone for 4 or 5 days, then I get 3 more days with him before he's gone for the remainder of his last week in the states.

:(

We made the best of today, but I am so upset about this that I may lose it and get all emotional about this, potentially ruining the next 2 days we have together.  Not that it is his fault or anything, but I tend to take stuff out on whomever is within range.

I don't like to get political on my blog, facebook, or anything else, but I kind of feel that this is just like the angry TEA party folks who are already paying close to 50% taxes, and they finally come to terms with "I have to find a way to LIVE off what I have left" and then someone comes in and, oh, I don't know, say passes some RIDICULOUSLY expensive health care bill that promises to plunder what little income they DO have left......

Seriously, Uncle Sam, I just don't think I have any more to give!  You are already taking my husband away from me at a very crucial time in our lives - and now I can't even have a proper GOODBYE?!?!

I CAN'T AFFORD THIS.  Just like angry taxpayers are revolting over the things they're being forced to pay for, that this country CAN'T AFFORD, I literally just CAN'T do this.

I'm not saying "I don't want to" (although I DON'T) I am saying I CAN'T!  So, where's my demonstration?  My picket signs?  My media soundbite?

This just f-ing sucks.

FRG

So, the new Family Readiness Officer that hubby's unit just hired in December to FORM our FRG is out on medical leave. That does explain a few things.

Last night I finally got a call back from someone on the I&I staff who is trying to fill in for the FRO, and I was asked to become an Assistant. "sure, no problem"

What did I just agree to?

The whole family readiness thing is almost non-existent for lots of reserve units, not just this one, and I think that really SUCKS. So as long as I don't let myself get too overwhelmed with my other volunteer commitments (at my son's school, at church, etc) then I think I can handle this. Right?

We'll see. Now they want to send me on all kinds of trainings, and at least that should help keep my mind off of missing hubby too much, right?

Speaking of the love of my life, he should be home in about 48 hours! YAY! This training has actually gone by fast, but it's still so hard for me to be away from him so much. At least for now he has some cell reception, and he checks his email at least once a day. Once he actually LEAVES that will not be the case, and I have no idea how I will cope with that for 8-ish months.

Hopefully our newly forming FRG will help a little bit.

"only" a reservist...

This post is kind of a continuation of my previous post about lack of support.....

I am so MAD at the way I get treated by some active duty spouses, like it doesn't really matter what I go through here, because my husband is 'only' a reservist. REALLY????!!! I mean, SERIOUSLY???

We are entering our third deployment in five years. With no built-in support network like many active duty families have. We live an hour from the nearest base, and have ZERO resources in our area.

On top of all of that, reservist face additional challenges that active duty personnel don't have to worry about - like having to request leave from the 'real' job, coordinate continuation of certain job benefits when available, and finding the appropriate military replacements for those benefits. Re-integration after deployment is also completely different, since the civilian employers don't generally have the basic understanding of this process that the military seems to have.

Sometimes I just feel like such an outsider in my own life. I don't fit in with non-military wives, and I don't fit in with military wives.

I will finish my rant here with one question: Why is my sacrifice as a Marine Wife any less than yours?

On a brighter note I recently learned that Ryan Homes gives discounts for those in the military.

People in the service along with family members should always take advantage of discounts when possible. It makes me happy to see that there is a military discount offered on their homes for sale. I wish we could have taken advantage of a great deal like this when we bought our new home - and am so glad its available for those of you looking to buy right now.

help (?)

I keep hearing about these wonderful support networks out there to help families deal with issues during deployment - and as usual the organizations/networks seem woefully unavailable to me.

Hubby's unit has a Family Readiness Officer, I know this for sure, but my attempts to get info, pre-deployment briefing schedule, etc. have yeilded only more frustration and more questions. Since hubby's unit is not ALL deploying (he is going with a small detachment to support another battalion) they are just not that interested in helping, apparently.

It doesn't help that we live about an hour and a half away from the reserve center.
Everyone keeps telling me to join a military spouse meetup, but there ISN'T one where I live.....I have been a member of a milspouse meetup down in San Diego (over an hour away) for a couple years now, and the girls are a fabulous source of support for me ONLINE - but I can never make it to the regular meetups because they are too far away.

Near the end of our first deployment, I accidentally found out about the Key Volunteer Network, which hubby wanted me to 'stay the hell away from' because of all the b.s. politics and gossip that are apparently the reason they no longer exist - but I went to a KVN dinner and a banner making party to prepare for homecoming, and met some fabulous women who probably saved my sanity, if not my life. One in particular was awesome, and ended up being instrumental in me finding the house we bought shortly after our Marines returned (Thanks D!)

Between being pregnant and being unemployed, I am already really feeling hubby's absence to a painful level, and this is only a 3 week training.....how am I going to get through the actual deployment without SOME sort of support network?

I am blessed to have family nearby, but they don't have a clue what I go through during deployment. Why is it so hard to connect with the wives/girlfriends of the rest of my hubby's detachment so we can support one another through the next 8 or 9 months?