Babies

Are a big deal.

Twice this week I've had really intense baby conversations. That's two more times than I would like, but here we are. No, I'm not pregnant, nor do I want to be pregnant anytime in the next 4+ years. I'm not a baby hater, I just don't love babies the way most girls do naturally. I like 1 or 2 certain kids; I don't love kids. Most children to me are obnoxious, dirty, and expensive.

If I don't like babies or want one, why in the world am I blogging about it?
Great question.
I'm not entirely sure either.

My first conversation was with Evan. You might assume that talking babies with my husband wouldn't be a huge deal. I mean, he kinda has to be a willing participant someday, right? Well think again. Evan is in the same anti-baby boat as I am. This was the first time we've seriously talked about it...ever. It wasn't a long talk, just around when we might want to start, and the 101 ways you can screw them up. Before we got married I might of casually asked "Hey you're ok with maybe having a few kids at some point?" and he probably grunted a "Sure, whatever." At that time that was good enough for me. But now, we're grown-ups all of a sudden. Everyone starts asking about having one from the moment after you say "I do." The minute you have a headache, craving, or pass on a glass of wine, every one of your family members eyes you suspiciously. Then, out of nowhere everyone and their mother with a dusty uterus are popping them out and lining them up like Easter eggs. Next you start to think "Should I be having kids?"

The second conversation was with a co-worker. She asked me if I thinking about having kids anytime soon. I managed to gag out a "No!" while I tried not to choke on my lunch. I was wondering if she secretly knew Evan and I had just talked about that same topic the night before. - Of course not, but it was still kind of creepy. Then we ended up talking about different baby names for the remainder of our lunch break, which is always a little fun to think about - I won't lie -.

I'm not sure why, but I can't stop thinking about it. Its not baby fever; its baby stress. Do people realize how big of a deal it is to have a child? Because I feel like these baby popper-outer's don't! A human alien child growing inside of you? Weird. Pooping out a baby. Ouch. Letting a baby suck on your boob. Awkward. Never having a solid 8 hours of sleep again? Suck.You are creating another functioning (or potentially non-functioning) member of society. I guess I'm not entirely sure of where I stand on babies, or how I feel about having them. Anytime I think about it my chest tightens and my face get crinkled. I manage to come up with completely ridiculous situations that could put me in a worry induced coma, over children who don't even exist yet. Am I completely alone with hysteria about my imaginary children? I'm not in any place right now to want a baby, and that's OK. Yeah I think about it, talk to Evan about it, but I don't have the fever yet. If it takes until I'm 40, that's OK too. I'm not feeling rushed or pressured. If I even decide to have a kid or two, which I might decide to pass, it's going to be when I'm not completely possessed with apprehension. I want to be wrapped up in excitement, love, and peace.

I'm still a little confused as to why this is all going through my head...maybe its just a girl thing that we all go through at some point. Like I told my Mom a while back, if it ends up just being Scout, Evan, and little old Me, I'll take just that. I've never been happier in my life than I am now in this moment. I'm perfectly content with my life and all the amazing people in it. So, for now, I'll keep it just like that.

To be right where you are.

Evan left for 3 weeks a couple of days ago to do deployment training in Louisiana. I thought it was a bummer, but I figured it wouldn't be that long, and it's not like we haven't done this before, yada yada yada; no big deal. Wrong. Last night I got home from work and my house was so quiet. This fact alone was kinda funny, because Evan doesn't really talk or is a loud person in the first place. I couldn't understand exactly why it seemed so deafening. I walked in and it was my same tan couch, the same drinking glasses neatly stacked in the cupboard, and the same familiar pictures staring at me, but it was...different. Just knowing Evan is home, even if he is upstairs in his office or outside washing the cars, is what makes our house peaceful. I didn't cry or have a meltdown, I just didn't realize how empty this house feels without him here. 

So now the ticking clock in the back of my mind is getting a little louder, and sounding a little more urgent. But rightly so, because we're down to 2 months until he leaves. This deployment I feel a lot more confident and calm. I feel like I kinda know what to expect (the worst). I'm expecting to worry, to feel a little helpless, and to not get a phone call everyday, and then worry more about that. As weird as that sounds, knowing that I'll feel all those things ahead of time makes it easier to deal with it all emotionally.

This time around I think it might be even a little harder in one way. Last deployment was challenging for the simple fact it was our first go of it. We had only been married a month when Evan left, and everything was new. We weren't exactly sure how the whole shindig worked. Before we were married we were use to being apart. We had never lived together, and when we did (for a month) it just kinda felt like we were being rebels. I guess I really didn't feel married. We lived in a furnished apartment and lived out of suitcases. When he left, I felt like we always had, in love, but apart. Now that's all changed. My life is completely different now that I've been married, and we've been husband and wife together for a year. Now we have our furniture, our dishes, our zip-lock bags, our underwear drawers. Our dog, our routine, our life. Stupid little stuff like that makes it different than last time. Coming home and crawling in bed alone doesn't feel right at all anymore. 

- Time out. New obsessed song. - 

My family wants me to move home while hes gone. As tempting that might sound, I think going home would be avoiding being alone in our house. Plus the last thing I would want to do is lose my baller job right now. Since jobs in general are hard to come by right now. Plus I have a feeling some of the other girls around here might need me. It's their first deployment and I know they are super nervous. They don't say they are, but I can tell. This time around I'll be more alone and have a lot more time on my hands. No best friends, no family, just Scout and I. 

But!

Don't worry, I have a plan.

I'm a weakling. I know I'm not anywhere near as strong as I use to be. Now that I've lost the weight that I didn't want, I need to tone it up. Working out is going to be a new priority! I'm not sure what my actual plan is yet, but I know I'll still walk Scout everyday. Then start Hip Hop Abs, and maybe P90X when I wouldn't die from a heart attack.

Organize. I Meredith, solemnly swear to clean my house everyday, and not let it look like a pigsty. 

Volunteer somewhere. I'm not sure of where yet, but I've looked into a few different places around me. There is a Manna Cafe which serves meals to the homeless that looks pretty awesome. Another organization hires students to work on an organic farm, I can't remember their name, but it looked pretty sweet too.   

Voldemort

Spring is here. 

Spring daffodil's on our table

  This morning a grumbling thunderstorm woke me up. I crawled out of bed and grumbled along with it as I walked down the hall and into the living room to let Scout out. As I opened the door a wall of damp, sweet musty spring air floated around me into the house. It immediately changed my dark morning mood. I couldn't help but let a small smile slide over my lips, as though someone had left a sweet surprise on my doorstep. I felt a little lighter, refreshed, new, calm, and clean. On the way home from work this whole week, I've driven home in a blissful state by rolling my windows down. I picked daffodil's from my front yard to enjoy while eating dinner. After dinner on my walk with Scout, the neighborhood was buzzing for the first time. The sun was shining, the skies were blue. Kids were playing basketball and riding bikes, dads were tinkering in the garage, moms were screaming at their kids to not go so far; it was great! People were alive again! They weren't forced to stay holed up in front of the bland living room TV. The grey wash of winter has melted. Blinds of windows were pried open like rusty hinges. I saw a robin for the first time, and noticed small pale green buds dabbing each tree branch. Newborn weeds were starting to push through the cement cracks of the sidewalk. I've shrieked with excitement every evening when the sun seems to stretch out the day, by lingering just a few minutes longer. 

Spring intoxicates people like a good perfume. But seeing as I don't wear perfume, that might be a bad analogy for me to use properly. Spring intoxicates me like the smell of peeling back the sheets and climbing into a freshly made bed, or the smell of when you open a box of black tea for the first time, having a fully clean, and organized house, or Cascade. You always take a moment to inhale deeply and slowly. (Except with Cascade, promise!)

This year I want to have the spring bug. I want to become hopelessly hyper, listen to the birds chirp, and take my shoes off and walk in the cool, damp grass. It's become increasingly difficult to resist it's welcoming charm. I've tried to ignore spring this year and push it away. Because this year spring means nothing good to me.

Spring means pouring over detailed packing lists. Spring means begrudgingly spending money on unwanted boots, bags, knives, and gear. Spring brings training. Spring brings stress. Spring brings tears. Spring brings one less night together. Spring brings silent dinners and melancholy air. Spring brings the unknown. Spring brings worry. Spring brings a simmering panic. Spring means planning to not to plan. Spring means standing in a gravel parking lot alone. Spring brings duty. Spring brings war. Spring brings goodbyes.

 Each sweet songbird chirping sounds like a crow. Blooming trees are tinged with bitter flower buds. Even the soft breeze feels like it might be trying to knock me down. The good feeling of spring is being smothered by the grasp that tightens around my chest. Everyday it slowly clenches tighter and higher. This is how I feel about the "D word." It's like saying You-Know-Who's name out loud...Voldemort...Deployment...they both have the same ring to me, and general feelings of animosity, angst, and affliction.

As much as deployments suck, they don't last for forever. (Although it might seem like it sometimes) Honestly Evan and I are really good at the goodbye thing. Almost too good in my opinion. We love being together and work great together, but we aren't the kind of couple that need each other to function. This summer I'm so excited to be able to visit my family and friends all around the US. What other wife gets the opportunity to live the semi-single life again? I know this might sound like I'm being heartless, but I promise I miss him every single day that he is gone. AND I probably worry enough to poop a cow, but at some point you just have to realize its part of the job, it's going to happen. The day he steps off that plane to come home is unlike any other feeling I will ever experience. So why not just take the bad as bad, the good as great, and remember to be thankful for every single minute you have together while you can.