Dear Husband,
You want to know why nothing ever seems to get done during deployment? This is why:
Wake up 25 minutes before the alarm clock goes off.
Glare at it with disdain.
Turn the computer on.
Traipse into the coffee to make kitchen.
Drink coffee.
Trip over the dog doing the peepee dance.
Check to see if your deployed soldier is signed on to Skype.
Let the damn dog out.
Check cell phone to see if the husband has texted you.
Remember you suspended his cell phone service while he's out of country.
Look angrily at the yellow dot on Skype again.
Sign onto work email.
Check Facebook Messenger to see if the husband is signed onto FB.
Grunt at the inactive indicator by his name.
Remember you were opening work email.
Stare resentfully at the hundred new emails that have bombarded your inbox.
Decide you'll start working on them after you check FB again.
Wonder why your husband isn't online.
Debate turning on the news to see if anything has "gone down" where he's stationed.
Decide that's a bad idea.
Hear the kids stirring in the other room.
Try typing less vigorously hoping they'll go back to sleep.
Remember you were opening work email (again).
Notice a dinging sound on one of your electronic devices and check phone, iPad and laptop hopeful for some indicator that you've received a FB or Skype message.
Type "I'm fine" with irritation to the random person messaging you at this ungodly hour that is NOT your husband.
Make sure all previously referenced electronic devices are indeed working.
Give up on the idea that the children are going back to sleep.
Argue breakfast choices with children for twenty minutes.
Agree that peanut butter on a spoon is indeed "protein".
Argue outfit choices with children for fifteen minutes.
Debate whether or not anyone would notice if you pulled a child's favorite pair of pants out of the dirty laundry pile and Febreezed them.
Negotiate regarding whether or not a second favorite pair of pants will do.
Stand by the bathroom sink with a blow dryer and pants pulled from the washer and wave dryer at pants pointlessly.
Hand third favorite pair of pants to child and articulate some version of "you will wear them and like them" using your mean mom voice.
Argue what's going in the lunch boxes. Times four.
Throw whatever you find in Tupperwear in the bags and utter some version of "you'll eat this and you'll like it" using your "I'm not playing" voice.
Somehow miraculously get everyone corralled (and mostly dressed) and out the door.
Hear your FB notification that you've got a new message maybe from husband.
Realize you but now don't have time to check it without kids being late to school.
Figure you'll check FB at the first red light between the house and school.
Make EVERY. FREAKING. GREEN. LIGHT for the first time in the history of the existence of your town's traffic light system.
Sit back down at your desk.
Realize the FB notification was from your deployed husband.
Also realize he's once again not signed on FB.
Check Skype.
Nope.
Think about how much you love your husband.
Curse the military, the internet, and all who conspire to keep you from connecting with your loved one.
Speaking of the internet, aren't you supposed to be working?
Respond to ten emails.
Watch thirty emails come in.
Chase the dog now running through the house with someone's dirty underwear in his mouth.
Wonder why there's dirty underwear available to the dog.
Observe how messy the house is.
Attempt to do damage control.
Check all electronic devices again for any sign of husband.
Notice it's now time to pick up the kids from school.
Get back in the car and head for the school, running late.
Hit EVERY SINGLE RED LIGHT between home and the school.
Argue about what time the kids have to start their homework, and why they have to do homework, and why homework is stupid and a bane on the existence of children everywhere.
Start dinner.
Argue about what you're making for dinner and why you always make what Child X wants and don't care what Child Y likes and why fast food is a much better option.
Insist your children "will eat what you make and like it" using your "I'm too tired for this crap" voice.
Miraculously get children tucked in and collapse in your own bed.
Wonder where the day went and why you got nothing done.
Open FB ONE-LAST-TIME-TODAY-I-SWEAR and find your husband online.
"Just wanted to wish you sweet dreams as I'm waking up, love."
Fall asleep exhausted but with a smile on your face.
Randi Cairns is one of the coauthors of Stories Around the Table, the AFI 2014 New Jersey National Guard Spouse of the Year and the Founder/Executive Director of Home Front Hearts.
