7.09.2012

Through The Looking Glass ...

Every morning, at 7:40 am, whether we want to or not, I drop Riley off at our community center pool for swim practice. Because Sheridan's practice isn't directly after Riley's, I make four round-trips ... adding pure joy to our morning as everyone piles into the car.

Sometimes we're all up early, and manage to grab a quick bite before we head out the door. Other times, with sleep still in our eyes, we begrudgingly throw on shorts and flip flops, and slowly saunter down the steps and into the car, bickering with each other as only the four of us can.

With as many hours we spend at the pool, it shouldn't come as any surprise that we Sheridan often forgets to grab her stuff on the way out. And who can blame her, as our bags are always overflowing with swim caps and swim fins, goggles, floaty devices, and sun block, water bottles, band aids, wipes, towels, and extra clothes. Oh and a smorgasbord of toys that have our last name plastered all over in a bold, black sharpie.

Frustratingly, despite sitting next to the kids the entire time at the pool, rattling off the litany of crap to ensure we are leaving with the exact same amount of everything we came, without fail we make our way to the "Lost and Found" box ... at least once a week.

Sometimes more.

And as I loudly mumble under my breath, yet again tearing through the large plastic box of lost chlorine stained t-shirts, diving toys, and broken goggles, looking for that elusive pair of children's purple swim fins that I know I'm never going to find, I slowly realize that this search has become just another metaphor for my life.

Since Matt's departure to Afghanistan, I find myself in a never-ending exploration ... with the "for" still remaining to be seen. A quest, made difficult for someone who's so self-sufficient and fiercely independent, to feel so vulnerable or ill at ease. I've never been the one to raise my hand and ask for help. A badge of honor that I'm not exactly proud to wear, though letting my guard down and admitting that I'm a little lost and a lot lonely, goes against almost every fiber of my being.

After almost a month of radio silence, I fear I'm at an impasse where I have so much to say ... yet, can't seem to find my voice. The voice that should so boldly be taking umbrage with the State Department over training prior to Matt's departure to Afghanistan, the lack of travel reimbursements, and horribly missed opportunities for families on unaccompanied tours ... (there's a whole lot of snark that I haven't even BEGUN to unleash). Or the voice who's been failing to document our hectic summer, the recent visit with my parents, the upcoming visit with my in-laws. And then there's the one who's only lightly skimmed over the important factors with the latest house painting updates, the girls successes on swim team, and Grady's recent potty training.

So
many pictures taken. So many stories. Though as I open and close my website, I'm saddened to see the weeks go by in between postings.

As time goes by I'll continue to search for whatever "it" is I fear I've misplaced. However, when it's finally turned in to the lost and found, would someone within my village or community please let me know? You'll know that it's mine because my name will be written all over it in a black, waterproof sharpie.

11 comments:

Issa said...

Friend I get this sooooooo much. Every day I think about returning to my long neglected blog and I rarely do. Maybe tomorrow. Or or or...it never ends. Same goes for emailing friends who I can't seem to connect with. You being at the top of that list.

We'll get there. Both of us. Hopefully soon.

Kate Coveny Hood said...

I often feel like this. I might post more if Chris was out of town though... I'm never alone!

I know this is a hard year for you. So PLEASE let me know when you need help. Or at least let me know when you want to grab lunch :)

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Daniela Swider said...

Oh, I know what you mean. I am looking for mine too. I can't seem to find my groove and keep up with life around us. I feel like I am missing things and yet often have no time for very normal every-day things. I try to update my blog because have an internal need to but it feels like I am so far behind that I am not sure where to begin. Like you said, so many pictures, so much happening, it's hard to keep track, much less chronicle. But first you must take care of your self and your sanity because when Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody's happy, right? We never really got to hang out but I wish we did. Hopefully, one of these days we'll be posted close to each other and get a chance... Stay strong and true to yourself!

Robin said...

Oh how I wish I was close enough to come take you and Kate out for lunch! Cyberspace is great for what it is, but it doesn't beat actually sitting right there, does it?

No chance you'll be up in NH next month I suppose?

xox

Just US said...

Oh friend - breathe!! I hate asking for help too and it is only magnified when Chris is gone. I signed up for this too, right? So I must be weak if I can't do it all by myself. Just remember - you must take care of you first! Be patient with yourself! Having a hubby on an UT and trying to do it all just isn't an easy thing for anyone - even Superwoman. Breathe, friend, breathe. I wish I could give you a hug!

Sadie said...

I have no sage advice or words of wisdom, but please know I am thinking of you. Thank you to you and your family for the sacrifice of a UT. It can't be easy. At all. Hoping your days get easier and your 'it' found.

Anonymous said...

I think you are doing an awesome job, I hope I manage with as much grace when it is our turn for UT- I'm equally disorganized even having hubby around. And it isn't like you've left any of the kids anywhere...I'd probably have to sharpie them too!

Sirianna said...

This is my first time commenting and it feels a bit strange since we do not know each other per se (I have been reading your blog awhile now), but somehow this entry in your blog touched me and I needed to tell you that I have so been there. We recently finished UA (Iraq about year ago) and might be facing another separation due to a hardship assignment (long story...) and it IS hard. There is no way you will get used to that. You get better at it and learn to cope better with practical issues (like asking help EVEN WHEN you do NOT want to) and taking care of yourself (regular pampering for yourself what ever it might be that rocks your boat). But you never learn to like it (or at least I haven't) and it remains difficult at times. Best thing to do is to have an outlet(s) to talk about it: emails, blogs, friends and use them regularly. Sharing helps and even venting, but only when the receiving party is either very empathetic or has been there done that. If you have never been there, it is very hard to imagine the multiple levels of feelings that goes with separation. As strange as it might be, feel free to email me the Fellow Trooper.....

Sirianna said...

oopsss...I guess I needed to check that one crucial box

I can't find my blog said...

Oh honey, I hear you. Loud and clear!

I told Issa this at dinner last week: for now, just post when you feel like you have something to say. You'll get back to it.

xo

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