Twilight Hours & Cold Sheets...

Waking up in the middle of the night is bad enough, but add in there the fact that the days are growing colder as we enter fall and your husband is currently sleeping on a cot, in a tent... out in "the field", and basically you have a monster to rival any insomnia laden bedtime.

I miss my space heater with arms.

He's so wonderfully WARM. I awoke during the night from more than a couple disturbing dream clusters, and the first thing I wanted to do was scoot on in and snuggle up for some warmth and comfort. I settled for the undershirt he wore the night before he left, and his fuzzy body pillow. Then I cried a little bit. I love the night, but since I gained someone worth sharing the lovely pillow time in slumberland with, I just don't sleep well without him. Lets just say it took me until the age of 27 to find a security blanket, and mine has poseable parts.

Then my thoughts started to wander...is HE warm enough? Is HE comfortable enough without home, our bed and his 4 deliciously smelling pillows? Is he missing me as much as I'm missing him...?

The last night we slept beside one another, I laughed when his chest hairs tickled my nose, but I couldn't get close enough. I craved his scent and the sound of his heartbeat, knowing that in a few short hours, I'd be taking him to be 'away' for the next couple weeks, and that this would be the longest we'd been apart in the last year and a half. I've dealt with deployments...the loneliness, the emptiness... I've dealt with my fair share of solitude via good ole Uncle Sam, but this is different. He's different. He is the best person I've ever 'let in' and for awhile now, I haven't been making that easy for him. It really kills me that I've been building a wall, because I never intended on building one. He's already in! I don't want to trap the poor man, I want him here by his own choice. Not because I box him in with crazy cement.

So, I'm working on it. Working on finding myself. Not the stereotypical "finding" of oneself. I know that I have changed from who I was when we first fell in love, to the semi comatose wife in NFL sweatpants, clacking away on the laptop when she should be back in bed until the baby wakes up... self. I mean, I'm comfortable in sweats. We love lounging in sweats together. I just mean that I need to be ME again. Julie "hearts" Jeremy, me. Doodles and crayons and shit.

I Love My Husband... I love that he's a part of nearly every waking thought I have... and cameos in my dreams. I love that when the boys are grown, he'll have had a large part in that process. I love that our daughter is his mini me, and that I can see him in her expressions from the moment she wakes up, to the twinkle in her eyes as she talks herself to sleep. I love how seamlessly he fits into a life I didn't know was missing anything, until his hand was in mine, and my heart was lost in his arms. So, while he's gone the next couple weeks... I'll hold his pillow at night, and I'll wear his Briggs jersey on Sunday. I'll squeeze the baby extra tight, and remind the boys that their behavior is something he'll be proud of when he gets home. I'll hold down the fort, in a house we made "ours"...and I'll miss him. When he gets back, I'll remember to look at him with these eyes, and set aside the ones that hold him in the past. I'll remind myself to appreciate him more, and to never let him wonder what's in my heart. I'll be more kind in my glances, slower to frustration and quicker to express just how much happier I am with him by my side.

Lets see where this takes me...

I'm new to the blog scene. While I've been writing for years, I've never set out to publically share what's on my mind. Recently, however, I've been fortunate to read the blogs of some newly acquired friends of mine, and I have to admit... my interest was piqued. Please be patient as I find my 'blog legs' and hopefully this will be good for me and entertaining for you.