Veterans' Day: Every time we say, "Good bye," you're frozen in my mind as the child that you never will be again.

First and foremost, I present my previous ramblings about Veterans' Day.

I've always taken issue with the use of the phrase, "Happy Veterans' Day." There is no such thing!

I don't often let myself think about how being a veteran has changed my husband. On this day, though, there is no hiding from it. Last night was one of the rare nights when I let myself break down and cry about how becoming a veteran has changed him. He, however, didn't notice I was upset. He doesn't anymore. If he did, he didn't say anything about it. He doesn't do that either anymore.

The changes in him caused by PTSD as a result of his deployments go by largely unnoticed. Every once in a while, though, I'm painfully aware of how very different he is. Last night was one of those nights.

When he deployed, I stood there in tears clutching small children watching as my husband filed onto a bus and pulled away for the airport on two different occasions. The first time, I fell to the ground screaming crying while I clutched two toddlers--each arm around one. A mother I had never met came up to me, said nothing, but hugged me tightly. I cried as my husband was taken away. I had no idea that I would never see that same man again. I worried that he would never come back alive. I had no idea he could return, but so very very changed.

I stood at the airport, not once, but twice and ran to him when he came home, but the arms that held me tentatively belonged to a man completely altered by war. Even after therapy and drugs, he's not the man I married. I can never express how grateful I am that he survived those deployments. I worry that some will think I'm being whiny and ungrateful. I am so very thankful that he is alive. I have Sheheyanu-ed many many times. Still, I mourn for the man he was.

I love this man. Despite the hell we went through, I love this man. I have a new respect for this man who came home and was willing to work through these problems not once, but twice. But you know what? I loved the man he was too. I liked that man far more.

I miss the man who would rub my back in bed. I miss the man who would randomly reach out and hold me. I miss the man who was more aware of the world around him. I miss the man whose main interaction with his children was talking to them or playing with them rather than screaming at them. I miss the man who had enough patience to deal playfully with his children.

When TheBaby was born earlier this year, I saw glimpses of just how sweet and gentle my husband once was. He cooed at her. He held her and refused to put her down saying, "The others had to be without me for so long. She doesn't have to, so I don't want to make her."

With the others, he has very little patience. Yes, he's a good father and he loves them dearly, but he can't deal with them the way he used to. The "War,"stomped all over anything remotely resembling patience that he once had. It takes very little to annoy him. I find myself pleading with the kids, "Please don't even ask Daddy. You know how he gets."

Our poor son has it the worst of all. Dh was gone for TheBoy's first year and you can absolutely see the detachment. They butt heads a lot and dh often has no idea how to parent him. TheBoy is a good kid. He's smart and sweet and very stubborn. Dh adored him as a baby, but by missing so much of our son's first year, it created a rift.

After the first war-time deployment, when dh came home to our twins, they were initially a bit timid, but in only a matter of moments, they excitedly, "Daddy! Daddy-ed," at him. With our son, I placed him in dh's arms and while TheBoy didn't fuss, he obviously didn't know who that man was. TheBoy was the only one of our children for whom "Dada," wasn't one of the first words (it was both the twins' first word). When he did start saying it, it meant, "Telephone," because that's all he knew of his daddy.

I feel badly complaining because my husband is still a great man. He parents. He helps at home. He supports me in our decisions. He's generally a nice guy. But you know what? The man I married was even better. The man I married was gentle. This man is gruff. The man I married was sweet. This man ignores. The man I married wanted to be a more attached and loving parent than his parents were. This man calls his children, "pain in the ass" behind their backs and is more likely to yell AT them rather than talk WITH them.

This man is a veteran. The man I married is gone. I hate Veterans' Day because today, of all days, I'm thankful for my husband's sacrifice, but I'm painfully aware that I traded the wonderful man who was my husband for this man who is so very changed--this veteran.

The title is from this song.

Best Chanukah gift ever

Yesterday, I rushed home from a playdate with a friend just before sunset. I considered stopping for Starbucks, but had pretty much decided not to. Then I realized that I could slap one of our shiny blue bows on it and call it a Chanukah gift for dh (who has been a great sport about only receiving one gift this year). Then I had the thought, "Watch us both stop for Starbucks."

I considered not stopping, but figured that if I didn't, then dh wouldn't either and we wouldn't be able to enjoy the yummy goodness that is Starbucks. So I stopped and got my favorite and dh's favorite. When I hurried home, dh was not yet there. And so, his coffee was bow-toped and waiting for him on the dining room table.

Sure enough, he walks in a few minutes later carrying 2 cups of Starbucks--the exact same drinks that I got. And sure enough, he said he almost didn't stop.

He seemed mildly annoyed, but I thought it was cool as hell.

The coffee was pretty cool, but the real gift was being that in tune with each other again after everything we've dealt with in the past few years.

Depressed

I'm pissed off at the world right now.

Rush Limbaugh is questioning my husband's patriotism. Rush Limbaugh insists those soldiers who don't support the mess in Iraq are "Phony Soldiers." He has since tried to insist his comments were being taken out of context, but in his attempt to do so, he simply shoved his foot further in his mouth.

And how many deployments to Iraq has Rush Limbaugh done? How many times has he been separated from his family by war? How many times was he shot at? How many nights did he stand guard knowing that there was a threat on his military instillation and if that threat came to fruition, he would be expected to throw himself in front of the armed terrorists? How badly do his knees hurt him now as a result of the weight of the weapons he had to carry around? How many hours has he spent in therapy with his family as a result of PTSD? And so, what right does he have to question the authenticity of my husband?

I'm sick to death of these people who insist they support the troops simply because they vote Republican and slap a ribbon bumper sticker on their SUVs. SHUT THE FUCK UP AND SIT YOUR ASSES DOWN.

Today, I saw a friend's husband had the song "Just Came Back From War" on his MySpace profile. You can hear the song here at Darryl Worley's profile. This family is very Conservative and they're pretty wealthy. They're very adamantly opposed to anyone who is anti-Bush. She is the friend I mentioned here.

Honestly, that really offended me. He lives quite the posh life. He's never served at all much less in "war" time. WTF right does he have to post a song that points out how much war changes someone? How dare he do that when the conflict that he supports is changing the men and women who serve in ways he could never possibly imagine. WTF?

My cousin is dying. He has cancer. He's down to 80 lbs. He's in hospice care. Taking the whole family to see him is out of the question (he's 2000 miles away). I'm uncertain about going there alone. This cousin's mother (my aunt after whom I'm named) lost her battle with cancer decades ago. He was only 16 at the time. His sister was 18. His death will leave the same mess. He's leaving behind a 17-year-old daughter and a 15 year-old son. My grandmother's yarzeit was last week. Both my brother's and an aunt's (not the one previously mentioned) are this month. Now it looks like we'll be losing my cousin this month as well. He is such a wonderful person. He's so sweet, so loving, so creative and so much fun. How can this world loose him? Why does the hatred and the stupidity flourish while he wastes away?

And on top of all that, dh and I had discussed trying again for another baby next month. We decided a while ago not to do that, but he can't give me a definite answer on whether or not he wants another. We make these decisions together. He's not going to put his foot down and insist I can't have another child, but at the same time, I don't want to insist that we are regardless of his feelings. So we need to come to an agreement and it just seems like he's pushing it off repeatedly rather than trying to figure out what he wants. Plus, there's a good chance I may not be able to have another baby anyway. I just want a plan. If we find I can't have another child, well then, that decision has been made for us. But I want a plan in the meantime. I want to know that either we're going to start TTC in whatever month or that dh is going to schedule his vasectomy for the near future.

The whole damn world is fucked up. I don't want to deal with all this shit anymore.

I'm frustrated. I'm offended. I'm pissed off. I'm depressed.

Pinwheels for peace

We're planning on making these next month: Pinwheels for Peace

Here's how they explain it:

Today’s students are bombarded with television images, video games, and magazine articles/newspapers that give importance to conflict and war. Violence has become commonplace and accepted as part of our society and, for some students, it is a way of life. It is our hope that through the Pinwheels for Peace project, we can help the students make a public visual statement about their feelings about war/ peace/ tolerance/ cooperation/ harmony/ unity and, in some way, maybe, awaken the public and let them know what the next generation is thinking.

This is not political. Peace doesn’t necessarily have to be associated with the conflict of war, it can be related to violence/intolerance in our daily lives, to peace of mind. To each of us, peace can take on a different meaning, but, in the end, it all comes down to a simple definition: a state of calm and serenity, with no anxiety, the absence of violence, freedom from conflict or disagreement among people or groups of people.
--the Project

There are patterns on the website and everything. I think we'll try to recycle some pretty paper of some sort and cover our front yard in pinwheels.

and now that I am leaving,now I know that I did something wrong 'cause I missed you.

I'm still here.

After I posted last, I printed directions to where I'd be going and wrote down the phone numbers of the people there.

Went about my usual morning stuff figuring I'd decide later about leaving.

Kept The Boy up from his nap for two extra hours while I tried to decide (wanted him to nap in the car if I decided to go). Eventually opted to put him down, but I packed a bag for us all after I did.

I decided to stay. I can't explain it. I should have gone, but I just can't stop clinging to the idea that something will change. I'm an idiot because dh has shown time and time again that it's not something he plans on doing. Still, I hope.

Sometimes it seems like he wants to. Most of the time, though, it seems like he just wants to ignore it and keep going with blinders on.

I was leaning towards leaving this morning when the girls started telling me about all the husbands they were going to have (Girl2 says 200,000). I got annoyed with them and said, "No, you have one husband. You get married once and you stay that way." As soon as I heard myself say that, I knew I wanted to stay and try to work this out.

Dh has the next two days off. I'm delusional. I keep thinking that in all that time, surely he will say/do something different. Logically I know he won't, but I can't give up on him.

I'm here and I'm feeling like I'm insane. I want to leave so badly, but then I can't do it. I go back and forth and I can't make up my mind. I want to stay. I want to work this out, but it feels like I'm the only one. Dh is willing to put in a bit of effort, but not much--certainly not enough.

So I'm here for now, but if this keeps up, I'm either going insane or I'm going away.

G-d bless Kristin Henderson

She's the inspiration behind the title of this place, she's a military spouse, she's a fabulous writer and she has a wealth of resources for veterans and their families.

If any of my readers are military family members who need help, if you know someone who does or if you want to find a way to help, please go here: Take Action, Find Resources. Also, in the back of her book, While They're At War, you will find a comprehensive list of resources. By the time you get there, you will have read a fabulous book too.

Lack of sleep, old writings, familiar problems and Military OneSource

I got 30 minutes of sleep last night. Same shit with dh. I'm recognizing more and more signs of PTSD. I tossed and turned as everything ran through my head. Finally, after 3 hours, I decided to get up and just write it all down.

Last year, the therapist suggested I journal about the situation. I mentioned that I blogged about it, but she suggested I journal it privately with no intentions of anyone else reading it. I did just that and I remember that it was a bit of a release. So I thought maybe if I wrote down everything I was thinking/feeling last night, maybe I could finally let it go and get some freaking sleep. I wrote for 2 hours straight. I felt a bit better, but when I went back to bed, I still couldn't sleep.

I remembered where I kept last year's journal, so I searched for that and did my writing in there. I was surprised to find only one entry from last summer. Although, in there, I found something that is very very true even now, a year later.

I miss him...I miss knowing what to expect. I miss being able to say with certainty, "He would never do that."

Yeah, it's the same thing now.

Lots of things raging through my head and heart right now.

One thing I kept writing, thinking and worrying about is the fact that last year, when I asked him to get help, he was willing to cut us off rather than do that. He chose his silence over his family. I still don't understand. He has no problem with therapists. He's not the type who fights tooth and nail to avoid them. I never in a million years dreamed he'd be willing to go without contact with us rather than just talk to someone.

So now what? It's obvious this marriage isn't going to last without outside help and I so desperately want this to last. I love my husband like crazy. I know he's still in there somewhere. But the last time I asked him to get help, he opted to shut us out rather than do that.

I called Military Onesource. They set me up with my therapist during this whole fiasco last year. Since dh is no longer active duty, though, I didn't know if they could help him. They said they can for 6 months after separation (he's still in that window), but he would need to call. He won't do that. So I asked about couple's counseling. That I could set up and so I did.

We shall see where we go from here.

It's really interesting that the signs are getting worse a year later--9 months since he came home and 3 months since he separated from the military. Don't ever let anyone tell you the "war" ends with the homecoming. It just means you have whole new battles and your home becomes your combat zone.

When he was deployed, he could look forward to coming home. Now where is he supposed to feel safe?

Here's a cartoon for ya

Saddam is dead. I'm terrified.

First and foremost, let me admit that I have no definite stand on capital punishment. Most times, I lean towards the opposition. Then again, I don't believe sex offenders can be rehabilitated and I think that the truly horrid ones are better off dead so that there's absolutely no chance of them ever hurting anyone else.

I agree Saddam Husein was an awful man, but I wonder what good his death will do. History is full of mediocre men who were damn near canonized simply because they were killed. One can easily become a martyr. All you have to do is die. Your followers will write and rewrite your story to fit their needs.

I'm holding my breath. Dh is scared. What will this mean for our military? How many more attacks will we see in retaliation? Will Stop Loss be reinstated? Will our friends who have just come home be sent back? Will our friends who are there be more likely to be injured? Will dh have to go back again? What now?

I don't know what to think. On one hand, I see Iraqis celebrating and I hear that they feel safer now. On the other hand, I wonder how safe they'll feel when the next retaliation car bomb explodes on their street.