Hissy
Cause: An innocent friend mentioning me as having my husband deploy for "a few months."
Result: Me wanting to flip a table and scream, "A few months? A few months in my book is 3 or 4. 10 is closer to a year. Give me a break, Ms. I've Never Been Away From My Husband Longer Than A Week And Oh No It Was So Hard." See what I mean? Fits.
Cause: Same innocent friend who insists on asking about said husband and his departure every time I see her which equates to biweekly.
Result: Pause for effect. I already have to think about him leaving enough. I don't need someone to remind me that it's happening. I don't want your sympathy and I don't want you ruining my day by reminding me of the fact. How about you write it down and stop asking when he's going. K, thnx.
Cause: Anyone saying, "I don't know how you do it! That must be so hard!"
Result: NO freaking kidding, lady. Thank you for rubbing in one of the most painful things I will go through. It's like you broke your leg and I'm visiting you in the hospital but instead of cheering you up I spend the time saying, "Gee, that must hurt! I don't know how you handle the pain!" Not. Helping.
That hopefully gives you a picture. Not a pretty one but a picture. I don't defend my fits at all. But they're part of the process.
I will say this: I feel more at peace about the whole thing than I ever have. I have those outburst moments but nothing happens. I don't react outwardly. And when I'm at home soaking up every moment I can with the man I love and my little one...I feel nothing but a peace I can't explain. God has really covered us with it and I am grateful because I don't know how I would do it alone without His unfailing love.
Here's to the final push. Let it begin so it can be over quickly. Rip that bandaid, will ya.
Photo: Unknown found via CFSNGAY
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