After Action Review

On Friday my beloved boarded a jet plane to head back to Iraq. We're told he'll be home for Christmas, so this leaves us with three months of separation. When he stepped off the airplane in Baton Rouge two weeks ago, I had not seen him in four months. There's no bullshit welcome here. That four months felt like a f*cking eternity. I cannot believe it was only four months. I am not currently in possession of a "he'll be home for good before you know it" attitude about these next three months. Three months is just short of agony.

I do have this new house to play with, this super-cool new job trying to make people healthier (some of them against their will), these two cool little dudes who are funny and delightful albeit challenging as hell....and there are only 61 days before I get to decorate for Christmas.

Ah, Christmas.

In spite of this being Corey's "vacation," he was very active and helpful. I wish I could boast he did it all without complaint. He did A LOT of it without complaint. He did a fair amount without having to be asked or reminded. He eventually complied after every incidence of my stomping angrily out of a room.

Funny thing about this husband I got: he resists EVERYTHING he doesn't think of himself. If you ask him to do something, or if you're his child and you ask him if you can do something, his first, automatic, immediate response to you will be "no" or "why?" Once you make a simple declarative statement about why it should occur, why he should be the one to do it, why you should be allowed to do this or why he needs to procure something for you, he will deliver unto you. But not before he says "no" first.

I also teased him a lot these last two weeks about his unnecessary defiance and/or indignation. If I state aloud in his presence that I need to do something, he will become indignant that he's not doing it. Where he learned to assume that all chores and responsibilites fall upon him I do not understand. Example #1 of a possible 435: we were in the car coming back from an appointment and I said that I needed to run in the party store to get supplies for this new token system we're implementing with our children. I intended for Corey to remain in the car, keeping it cool in 95 degree heat, while I went in the store. He surmised that he was expected to leave the car to go in the store, and he got quite hot about it. Until I started laughing. How can you get mad about having to do something that no one was asking or EXPECTING you to do?

Silly man.

Home ownership has, for this two-week period at least, sparked a home maintenance and improvement interest in Corey that was never present in apartment-dwelling. He volunteered for every Home Depot shopping need that surfaced and spent half his swollen combat paycheck on home stuff.

He dug up all the dead plants around the crepe myrtle in our front yard. Then he RAKED and BAGGED at least twelve months of leaves, bark and dead weeds and grass in the front yard.

I broke the sink in our half bath trying to soak skewers for the kabobs I made Wednesday night. Corey "harumphed" at me and told me to call a plumber, but then I used my powers of persuasion to convince him that HE could fix that sink, no problem. And he did it.

I bought him a blower so he could send all our crap into the street. He delighted in blowing all the leaves from our driveway and front walk out into the street.

He's developing a system of organization for his shed where his tools and toys go. Things go in shelves and hang on the walls and when he gets home, he's going to have MORE STUFF and all of it will be organized.

He painted. We had our contractor remove a wall-mounted TV stand and patch the sheet rock. Corey took the paint to be matched AND THEN he painted that section of the wall. You can't even tell.

I somehow ripped the side of the countertop off in our kitchen. He put it back. There was sandpaper, caulk and nails involved. You can't tell I broke it. (That's two things I broke and he fixed. Damn.)

He's the one who figured out WHAT DAYS the garbage truck comes and WHICH TYPE of garbage goes out to the curb on which day.

The boys did great while he was home, as expected. Both of them are having trouble with their grades, but we all think it's emotional and behavioral and not ability-related. Their behavior at home improved, and we launched the token system their psychologist recommended. We have assigned a value to the behavioral outcomes we want to see every day, such as being kind to your brother and eating what is given to you. At the end of supper every night, the boys receive tokens based on their behavior that day. These token are to be used to play video games, eat candy, have slumber parties and get toys and games. Plastic money literally changes hands in our house. They were so stoked about it when Corey and I introduced it and did it last week. Whether the same level of cooperation and enthusiasm will continue once I am the one governing the bank is unclear. But not expected.

I think it was very difficult for Corey to not treat us like soldiers. The first few days he was home, he was a little critical of me - the way I drive, the way I clean the kitchen...and he had forgotten that little boys are noisy by nature. I tried to be patient. It been just as long since I had to let someone else in on my decisions or factor in someone else's wishes and concerns into my process. We called a truce about halfway through R&R and any changes will be implemented when he is home to implement them. I do things the way they are done because that's the way I can get them to work for the boys and me.

I commend myself for overlooking the mess. We were packing, moving and unpacking the entire time he was home, so I can't claim that he kept the entire house in a mess when it would have otherwise been tidy. But, I know that Corey does not leave his shit all over that tiny ass room he shares with someone else over there, and that in order for there to be order and efficiency, everything has a place. So why in the name of all that is holy could he NEVER put a pair of shoes anywhere other than right in the middle of the living room? Wherever anyone dropped anything in this house, that's where it stayed. The boys would get up and get dressed for school in the living room, and at 5 PM the pajamas would be on the floor by the couch, exactly where they had left them eleven hours earlier.

The Army now does these reintegration retreats with soldiers and families when they come home. Although it's not until about three months after they return, so presumably all the things that need intervention have worked themselves out for better or worse after the soldier reintegrates with the family. I've had other Army wives, of past and present deployments, validate me about the "leaving random things sitting in random places where they do not belong and walking around them as if there is nothing amiss" phenomenon, so I wonder if they cover that at the retreat?

Our new home is blah without you. Just come home, okay?

.....