missing milestones & homecoming

As many of you know, I have been taking a ton of pictures of my friend's new daughter. What some of you don't know is that she's a fellow wife of a Naval Officer, and she gave birth to her daughter without her huband present thanks to deployment. At first I was like, "Sure, that's no big deal - women have been having babies without their men around for hundreds of years." But as I am watching her little girl grow up, grow bigger and develop a personality, I ache for her husband who is missing all of these milestones (a first smile, a grunt in the midst of a dream, etc.). I was thinking that he probably doesn't have a ton of pictures (if any) of his daughter because sailors can't get email attachments, and getting them through actual snail mail on a sub is a process, and an unreliable one, at that. So yesterday I sat down, took all of the pictures I shot, and created a homemade photo album for the new daddy.



Thinking about what my friend is going through (raising a newborn with her husband away on deployment) has made me miss my own husband more. I admire the way she handles everything, rolls with the punches, and accepts that this life is what it is. It's a choice we made. I can tell you right now I wouldn't have made the decision to marry my husband if I didn't think we had enough trust and strength to get through anything life threw at us - including deployments and relocations.

Recently, the women back home have been ramping back up for homecoming. With homecoming (apparently) comes a series of other emotions:

1. Some women are just plain excited to have their spouses home. This is awesome. It's such a positive feeling, you just can't find any fault with it! But with that said, there's something to remember. The truth is that your first meeting (and very possibly your first few days) may feel awkward. Remember, he hasn't seen you in about half a year. That's a long time. Getting back into the swing of things may take a few beats. And he's only truly interacted with other men during this time. Intimacy needs to be nurtured, so when he is away for that long, the base for the intimacy is still there, but it may take a little time for it feel right again (physically and/or emotionally). Some people can jump right back in - but for the most of us, there's a small grace period where we learn each other's daily rhythm again. Having high expectations that things will go 100% smoothly may disappoint. If they DO go smoothly, then yay!! If not, don't be concerned.
2. Other women struggle with wondering if their relationship has changed. Bad news: It has changed. Change is inevitable. You've both had to live life and go on with life alone. You are bound to grow as individuals. The problem is that you have not been allowed to grow together as a couple. So who knows... you may have grown in opposite directions. The good news: This is not insurmountable. Ideally, as mature adults, you can acknowledge what has and hasn't changed, and learn to merge your lives again and regain that flow of a good relationship. That's what long-lasting relationships do anyway in order to survive the test of time!
3. Will he still love me? For the love of God, stop asking that question. It's only a tortorous thought designed to make your life hell until the day he returns. And newsflash: he's probably wondering the same thing about you! Do you still love him? Working on submarines, it's not like our lads have all the time in the world to mess around and make new friends. We, on the other hand, do. I'd say they have far more to worry about than we do. So try to see it from the reversal. Plus... you have to think to yourself: He loved me when he left, and no big event, fight or issue has arisen since he's left, so why would his love for me change? Relax. Deep breath. Don't ask stupid questions. Just see what happens. Don't put more pressure on his homecoming than need be.
4. Your sailor is home. So why isn't he falling all over me? Why isn't he paying more attention to me? Ladies, don't take this personally. For months he has not had one ounce of privacy. He has had to share bathrooms. He's had to sleep in the same room with up to 20 other men. He hasn't had the luxury of breaking down when things get tough. Give them time to reacclimate and give them a break. If they aren't wanting to be velcroed to you for the first 24 hours, it's likely because they are severely sleep deprived and want nothing more than to fall into a blissful coma for a few days. We've had plenty of "space" since they've been gone, but they haven't had ANY space. Once they take care of their basic needs, you will once again be a priority. This can span a few minutes, to a few hours, to a few days. So give 'em a break if they're a little despondent at first. It's not about you. It's about their brains getting used to being home and nurturing themselves for a bit.

Anyway, these are pretty deep thoughts for a Tuesday morning, but this is something that is definitely on a lot of people's minds lately. And granted, this is just my two cents. Having realistic expectations are what keep us sane and keep us from projecting our insanity onto our men. I'm seeing this as an adventure. In the meantime, I am getting back to the daily grind after the long weekend. Happy Back-to-Work Day!

memorial day does not mean "BBQ day"

Traditionally, Memorial Day Weekend has been the official start of summer. And here in New England, nothing could be closer to the truth. This Memorial Day has brought with it sunshine, humidity, high temps and beach outings. It's brought tourists (bane of my road rage existence), wafting scents of BBQ hotdogs, and lots of unnecessary shopping in which I have zero power to stop. But there's something we tend to forget this holiday weekend: the service men & women that have previously served, are currently serving and those who have already sacrificed their lives. While I am all for celebrating the beginning summer (Lord knows we don't celebrate and spend enough time with our families) I am also somewhat concerned that the original reason for today's "day off of work" is being neglected by the general population.

Yes, I know, I've been guilty of this, too. But celebrating today has changed for me since marrying a Navy sailor. A currently deployed Navy sailor. A man who is currently sacrificing his free time and spending months away from his family to make sure all of us are still able to enjoy our perfect little BBQs. It's inspiring. It's frustrating. It is what it is. And I am so proud of him.

I went for a toodle through a cemetery today. It's my way of remembering those who have served. I read the headstones. One grave that had a flag read, "In memory of a fallen sailor, WWII." Wow. Today I say a prayer for all of those who could just as easily be this man, but are currently alive and serving our country. Amen to you.

a hazy, lazy sunday

This weekend unofficially kicks off the summer season. I would be lying if I said this doesn't absolutely thrill me. I've always been more of a autumn/winter girl on the inside, but apparently my "outside" screams summer. Maybe it's because my birthday is in June (a week from Friday, actually). Maybe it's the summery look I acquired through the genetic lottery (blue eyes, sun-kissed blond hair, tanned skin). Or maybe, just maybe, it's because I secretly belong to the summer wildness, the fresh breezes, the squawking seagulls and the chaos of the sea. Maybe. On hot days like today I long for a cool breeze, the weight of a heavy sweater. But at the same time, I relish the sweat beads that drip slowly down my spine, the sand between my toes and the fishy smells conjured from a placid ocean bay.

My adventure today brought me to a close-by town that doesn't see the flux of tourists that Mystic does, but it occasionally gets a small touristy overflow. Today was just such a day. I parked near the marina and walked up the main street - a quaint, little 4-block area dotted with historically preserved colonial houses occasionally infiltrated with modern beach-style houses with large second story decks, independent shops (my favorite part) and cute little ice cream shops and restaurants. It's a tourist dream. Today it was also my dream. I passed a beautiful house who's left side was badly neglected - although the structure itself was impressive. It was too good of a moment to pass up, so I grabbed the camera and shot.

The second photograph was mostly inspired by the horrendous fish odor permeating the entire shore. Along the bay sits a fresh fish market, but it's also attached to the part of the market that houses the guts and entrails, and the fishing boats - complete with a variety of cages - parked just along side this market. It's a stinking mess. But somehow, it's not offensive. Perhaps my nose was ignoring the fishy scents because my other senses were happily distracted. The sun was shining (for the first time in days), my skin was warm and slightly damp from the humidity. My hair was lifted gently by a light breeze coming off of the Long Island Sound. My eyes had more than enough to keep them busy. New sights are always a treat.

As always, on just such an adventure, I couldn't get away without purchasing something. Two pairs of seriously comfortable outdoor slippers. Ah. Success.

thoughts on motherhood

Or, I should say: POTENTIAL motherhood. Lately, the realization that becoming a mommy may soon be in my future has me in awe. It's permeating everything I do - and by that I mean that I don't do anything these days without thinking about how a child would change my life. If I go to the grocery store for a quickie milk pick-up, I think about what that trip would be like toting around a four-year old. When I ponder going to the casino for a night of fun and dinner with my husband later this summer, I wonder if those fun and spontaneous "date nights" will be a thing of the past.

What has me thinking this way? Well, for one, my husband and I are contemplating starting a family. It's nothing concrete, yet, but it's definitely something that (for us) requires a lot of thought and discussion. We aren't the "jump right in" types when it comes to something this monumental. The other element that has lately had me wondering about it all is that a good friend of mine recently had a baby, and I've gotten to see it from the beginning: pregnancy to six weeks old. It's quite a change. She has changed - but in such a wonderful way. There's something captivating about watching a mother fall in love with her child. It's both endearing and scary, amazing and frightening. It's incredible. It's something I've never gotten to see happen, but actually seeing the process has made me different, somehow. It's made me crave and ache to hold my own child. It's made me wonder what my child will grow up to be like - their quirks, personality, talents and weaknesses. I'm starving to know if a child of mine and my husband's will be musically inclined or athletically gifted.

I've heard some women refer to wanting a child as an "ache." I don't feel an "ache," so to speak. That, perhaps, has something to do with the fact that until I met my husband, I didn't really have much of a desire to procreate. But when The Lieutenant and I got married, it was a whole other ball game. All of a sudden I wondered what a person made up of the two of us would be like. If we'd have a momma's boy or a daddy's girl.

Today I got to hold this little peanut. She's almost 7 weeks old. She's just a wee thing. She felt so right in my arms (well, almost right - she wasn't mine after all), it felt natural. I've held my share of babies. But up until the point where I wanted one, it never felt this way to have one in my arms. My, my, these little creatures sure are an adventure.

baby feet

Oh Heavenly Lord. I'm so in trouble. So, so deeply in trouble. As some of you may know having a baby is something that may be in the near future, it may not be. Much of it depends on my ability to have kids thanks to some medical issues with which I've previously struggled. But in the meantime, I've been spending time with my friends and their new arrivals. And I'm falling so deeply in love. With the idea of motherhood. With the coos and cries. With the grumpy faces and "feed me" screeches. With baby feet. Sigh. Damn those baby feet.

Yesterday I volunteered to take photos for my friend and her 6-week old daughter. The weather was almost perfect, and so we grabbed my camera and headed to Old Mystic to find some eye-catching spots. At the end of the adventure I was looking down the length of the dock and thought that it would make quite a spectacle if baby feet were photographed at the beginning of this dock. Turns out my instincts were right. But did you know babies don't stand "straight" or "flat" on both feet? One foot is always going rogue and twisting or lifting. So I took my chances, and snapped a series of baby feet pictures. This one was just perfect. The side-ways foot gives a sense of vulnerability and adorableness to the photo, and the long dock length behind her feels like a metaphor for the long journey ahead of her.

I adore baby pictures. Their innocence and sheer inability to mask their emotions is such a precious gift. Catching it on camera is priceless.