My Sailor Home vs. my Sailor Deployed

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My Sailor Home vs. my Sailor Deployed

          As a Navy wife I have become aware of the many differences between time when my husband, Jimmy, is home, and time when he is deployed. [commas? correct, too many, missing one?] From co-parenting and date nights to raising two children alone and emails from far away countries, it’s like living two completely different lives.      [is this intro. too short? should I add a sentence? ideas?]

            My job as a stay-at-home mom is not an easy one, but when Jimmy is present he helps relieve a lot of the pressure and stress from my day to day routine. Whether it’s paying the bills, changing the oil in the car, playing with the kids, or helping cook dinner, every little thing helps our lives run smoother and makes my job a little easier. Whereas when he’s deployed I often feel like a single stay-at-home mom juggling a hundred things at once, half of which I don’t know anything about. How do I fix the car’s tail light? Why isn’t the water draining from the washer? How do I grill a good medium-rare steak? After all, I often wanted a nice meal after a rough day.    
                I didn’t do very much cooking while Jimmy was away though; in fact I learned that three-year-olds are pretty easy to please. Unless company was coming over I would throw something from the freezer into the oven and then I’d wait for the timer to tell me it was ready. The extent of my cooking would be some macaroni and baked chicken breasts with a can of green beans heated up. This laid back cooking routine was certainly easy, if not very healthy. When Jimmy is home I meticulously plan out a menu, full of delicious meals that require numerous cooking utensils, and dishes, and leave the kitchen in quite a mess. When we were newlyweds I was a terrible cook. Sometimes I wonder how we survived that first year without becoming malnourished. I remember the first time I was really proud of a meal I’d made. We lived in a small apartment and Audrey, our first child, was only a year old. In our tiny kitchen I made chicken and dumplings with cheesy garlic toast. The delicious smell filled our apartment, and even the hallway outside our heavy front door. It was one of the best meals I’d ever made, and was perfectly well suited for the blustery Chicago winter that we were experiencing. Cooking new meals is something I really enjoy, but, unless I’m motivated by my husband’s presence, I don’t do it often and instead rely on unhealthy frozen options.

            While cooking new meals is fun, simply trying new foods without having to do any work is my idea of a really good time. When Jimmy was home we would go out on dates once or twice a month and generally that included dinner at a nice restaurant, and some fun activity like a movie, bowling, or a trip to Seattle. It was so great to be able to get out of the house with my husband, leave the kids with the sitter, and really unwind. Half way through our first big deployment I decided the kids and I were going to go out and have a fun night together. It turns out a tired ten-month-old and a wild three-year-old don’t make the greatest movie theatre companions. It also probably wasn’t my wisest decision when I bought the large bag of candy for my daughter, thinking I could use it to bribe her to stay quiet and in her seat. Half way through the silly children’s film I made Audrey stop singing and dancing up and down the aisles, clean up the starburst wrappers strewn about, and carry her bag out the swinging theatre doors. I lugged my son’s heavy car seat, the diaper bag, and purse back to the car, pulling my daughter along the whole way. The memories of that night, which I had hoped would be so fun, entail an excellent example of the difficulties of parenting two young children alone.

            This African proverb always makes me smile: “It takes a village to raise a child.” I would’ve loved to have had an entire village of people helping me raise my two little ones during the deployment, but I would’ve settled for just one person, my husband. Every day new milestones were reached and new questions needed to be answered.

When my husband left, Audrey spoke in simple sentences and Jacob was just a newborn. Jimmy returned home seven months later to two children who had grown up quite a lot in his absence. Audrey talked constantly. She ran, she played, she had numerous friends, and she never shut up. Asking enough questions to drive a psychologist crazy was her favorite past time. “Why, Mommy? Why, Daddy?” she’d ask us a hundred times a day. Jacob was no longer a newborn. He was not only a very fast crawling professional, but he also loved pulling up on various furniture, babbling, and using a few signs to communicate his needs. [Should this be in here? It's not really comparing or contrasting much... but it does provide some humor I think, and gives a good picture of how much children grow up in seven months time. What do you think?]

During those seven months, knowing what decisions to make during any given situation was not an easy task. Audrey had a lapse in potty training about half way through the deployment. I was at my wits end washing dirty laundry. Every night I’d watch Audrey use the restroom, and then every morning I’d have to change her sheets. I remember sitting in the coffee shop that I went to every Wednesday to meet with a few friends of mine, nearly in tears, holding my white chocolate mocha as I explained the bedtime difficulties. These friends all had children long past the potty training stage and knew exactly what the root of my problem was. Audrey had recently started daycare and was therefore too exhausted at night to wake up to use the restroom. She was simply sleeping too hard to wake herself. I often found myself in need of solutions to tough problems regarding the children and would’ve loved my husband’s help. Even if Jimmy was just as clueless as I was, I know he would’ve made me feel worlds better just by being there and taking some of the stress away. 

            Regardless of whether Jimmy was home with the kids or out to sea, the one constant between the two brought me great comfort. He loved me. I knew that we had a very strong relationship, and that I was loved no matter what happened. Knowing that helped on the rough days during deployment. Sometimes there was no contact from him, but I kept in mind that I was an important part of his life. There’s strength and beauty in love that I know can’t be found anywhere else, and I’m very blessed to have that with my husband.  

            Life with Jimmy home and life with him deployed were two very different experiences. I’m proud to say that we all survived the long seven month deployment. While I much prefer having my husband home, I know now that I am strong enough to handle having him very far away, and that makes me lift my head a little higher when I think of the difficulties I overcame. [too short? suggestions? does it wrap everything up nicely?]