One day at a time.

Well, January 14th came and went. It was by far my worst day so far this year (which makes me have hope--get it out of the way early!). The few days leading up to it were soaked in an energy that was both sad as we saw the date approaching with a unyielding resilience, and eager as we went out of our way to take advantage of every moment we had together as a family. In a way, this whole deployment thing has really bound Paul and I more tightly to each other, as well as the kids, which I didn't think was possible. We were thrust back into the honeymoon stage, if I can call it that, where we couldn't help but hold out our hands as we passed one another in the kitchen, the hallway, the fruit aisle in the grocery store. We did it without thinking, our subliminal minds just checking to make sure the other was still in reach. But Thursday would come, and when it did, we had to walk in different directions in front of a few dozen strangers who were saying their own muffled goodbyes in front of airport security. My legs seemed unwilling to cooperate as I forced them out what ended up being the wrong exit, and even more unwilling as I forced them to circle me around the parking lot for about ten minutes before I found my car. I had sunglasses on to cover the streams coming from my eyes, but I think the low gasps and moans escaping my mouth would have given me away anyway, had there been anyone to see. Paul and I have lived away from family for so long, depending soley on each other for the type of familial relationships that I believe humans need in order to survive, that being seperated from him now seems unnatural, against the order of things.

That being said, these first few days have been an adjustment. I don't think I could have readied myself for this no matter how hard I tried. It just had to happen, and now I just have to move on and get things done. Through the wonderful technology of today, I get to not only talk to Paul, but I also get to SEE him via Skype (which... if you are not signed on with Skype yet, do it.). He gets to wave to the kids, and they get to wave back (or in Eli's case, stare intently). I don't have to wait 6 weeks to get a letter, than wait 6 weeks for him to receive his. We are blessed in the time we live in.

For now, I have my wonderful mother here to help, which I am grateful for. It will be another adjustment when she leaves, but at least the fall wasn't so far for now. And I have my circle here in St. Louis, who have all been so present and ready to help that I have the type of gratitude towards them that bubbles up and out and of me it's so powerful.

We'll be ok. And heck, we are already two days down! 118 to go. Progress is progress.