Some Letters I've Been Meaning to Write IV

Oh, yeah, I made a graphic for this...no big deal.

Dear Mr. Depression and Mrs. Anxiety,

Jesus, this has been a rough couple of days.  I thought I had you largely under control but you're starting to rear your ugly little heads again.  I would appreciate it if you would go back from whence you came and we can all continue on with our separate lives.

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Dear Avis,
 
Dear god I hate you and you have horrible customer service. The only reason I patronize you at all is because of my elevated status. Thank you, however, for giving me a Ford Escape, which I actually love, and for the Satellite Radio.  If you had "upgraded" me yet again to a Dodge Charger I was going to drive it straight into a wall.  Then set fire to it.
 
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Dear Readers,

Thank you for your really sweet comments on my last post.  It helps knowing that I didn't scare anybody away and that I have such supportive people reading this here interblag.  1000 blog points to you all!

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Dear Robbie,

Sorry for being so crazy these last few days.  Thank you for calling back last night to tell me you laughed at the "Touchdown" caption on my post about being alone...thinking about it made me laugh too and instantly the world was right again.

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Dear 90s on 9 XM Radio Station,

I really do love you.  The last couple of days I've been able to listen to "Baby Got Back," "Ants Marching," "You Oughta Know," "Can't Touch This," and "Escapade."  You've truly revived my fondness for the 90s and their characteristic music.  I find myself rarely moving up to 20s on 10 or down to 80s on 8 because you so fabulously blare out my childhood and that is awesome.

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Dear Brain,

Thank you for remembering all the words to most of the above songs.  Spot on.

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Dear Whatever Song I'm Listening To on the Radio While Driving,

I really like it when you end just as I'm pulling into my desination and stopping.  I feel like I'm in a movie or a music video starring ME.  Though I'm not sure I'd want to be in a movie where my character is happily driving along to "Baby Got Back."

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Dear Caprese,

I could sing your praises day and night.  How did I not realize what an easy travel/hotel meal opportunity you present? After eating you for dinner two nights in a row (with pesto last night!) I think I am truly, deeply in love.

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Dear Bruins,

Please win the Stanley Cup in the one year out of the last 25 that I have actually cared about things like this.

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Dear Cypress,

Thanks for cuddling with me in bed while Rob was gone, and for letting me cry while cuddling you before I left for New York.  I know you were concerned about my well-being when I dropped you off at daycare because for the first time in awhile you looked back at me instead of barreling into the play area like a mongoose, but that might've been because I used the word "fuck" in the car and you thought I was mad at you.

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Dear Representative Anthony Weiner,

Lying about sending a picture of your weiner? Really? You've made this all far too easy, the jokes aren't even funny. Try for some subtlety next time.

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Dear Blog Giveaways,

I've only ever won one blog giveaway (Hi Gluten Hates Me!) but I'd like to win another one please. Please not-so-randomly select my number. I love you long time.

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Love,

Caitlin

xoxo

Gonna get Real, Yo

I'm going to go ahead and warn you that this post could be seen as kind of whiny. And for that, I preemptively apologize.  I really have been wanting to get these feelings out on "paper" for awhile and I think/hope this will help. 

(Note: I struggle with being really honest about my anxiety and depression on my blog, so if it's something that bores you to tears, I apologize for that as well)

I woke up this morning and sobbed for a good 10 minutes, cuddling my beast and chewing on my lip (anxious tic).  I'm not even sure why I was crying so hard and frankly, I wasn't too sure why when it was actually happening.  All I knew was I was hurting and scared and for some reason it was really intense.

I think I finally figured out why it's so hard for me to leave Rob.

When Rob was in Iraq, I went through what is (apparently) called "anticipatory grief." I remember sleeping in his bed after his parents asked me to stay over, tossing and turning and clutching at my chest.  I sat up and realized that I was behaving as though he had died, and was contemplating life without him.  I researched it online and found that it's quite common among military spouses, and knowing that made it a lot easier to continue dealing with those moments.

Thing is, I don't think I actually ever dealt with it.  Aside from those few moments of clarity, I never considered the danger he was in though I had plenty of extremely obvious clues (the FRG finally stopped letting us know about brigade casualties because of the effect it had on spouse morale, for one).  I think my brain protected me from worrying because, to put it mildly, I am pretty damn neurotic. If I had fully embraced the danger my husband was in, I'm pretty sure I would've been committed.* I was in college and studying abroad; I had no choice but to shut down part of my brain in order to keep functioning.

After Rob came home, and I finally heard the stories and saw a few pictures, it hit me with full force just what my husband had dealt with on a daily basis those 13 months.  I immediately felt horrible for burdening him with my petty requests for validation, my whining about life in Russia and Beloit, and my jokes at his expense (though I dare say he appreciated the last one).  We watched the movie "Restrepo" together and it was cemented in my mind.

I began to retroactively worry. Pretty talented, no?

I began obsessively reading the blogs of widows and widowers. It seemed to me that I could feel their pain through their anguished words, in some sort of secondary way.  I hugged my husband even tighter than before, worried obsessively if he didn't answer his phone, and imagined his funeral in my head during long car rides.  In other words, I once again became that girl who, in those few moments of clarity during an incredibly shit-tastic deployment, feared losing the most important person in her life with all she was.

So back to me leaving.  I've noticed that each time I leave for a project, which is pretty frequent, I have the same sort of nostalgic thoughts...things like "I remember when we used to go to the field with Cypress," not stopping to think that we had just gone to the field the previous day and would most likely go again when I came home. In 3 days' time. On days like today, when he's in a location at which I can't reach him, I feel even worse...like he's on 10 days of patrol again with no access to phone, internet, or email. 

I had never considered that I would still be dealing with the pain 3 years after he came home.  Rob even told me that I have more baggage from the Army days than he does, and frankly, he's totally right. 

This realization has helped me to recognize that I need to be better at focusing on the here and now rather than some imaginary future. I'm hoping that now that I have a context for it I can work on fixing it, and maybe not bursting into random bouts of crying before traveling to a project.

I also hope that I have scared away readers by talking about all of this (worrying powers, activate!).

Okay, I feel better but also whiny, so I want to say again: I understand that there are military wives going through a lot more stressful situations than I am currently...and I understand that military widows (and widows/widowers in general) go through something that I cannot even begin to fathom. I just wanted to share my experiences.  :)

*If I ever do get committed, I hope I get to go to that one in Shutter Island and share a cell block with Leonardo di Caprio.

A Day Alone

So my darling husband left this morning for the weekend, as his little sister is graduating from high school on Monday. 

(I'm still really bummed that I can't make it; Rob and I have been together for 8 1/2 years so I've basically watched Molly grow up.  I feel like she's MY sister.  And because my high school is stupid they have graduation on a Monday, which I have ranted about several times here but COME ON, MONDAY?!)

As I mentioned yesterday, Rob leaving me (as opposed to me leaving him) is always really hard on me.  I revert back to my Army-self, frantically anticipating phone calls or emails like he's been gone for months.  And because he's at his parents' and doesn't get any cell reception I feel suffocated, like he's millions of miles away in a war zone again.  When I finally do talk to him I feel this huge relief and talk a mile a minute trying to tell him every aspect,every second of my day.

I know, I know, get a grip right? We'll be apart for like a week and a half and aside from the occasional moose, I'm pretty sure my husband is safe.

Only slightly less frightening than guerrilla fighters.

I'm watching the Bruins game right now, which is hilarious to me as I have never liked sports.  I still don't like sports, actually. I only like hockey because I think that hockey is the most honest sport in the world.  We all watch and enjoy sports because they provide a sort of safe, simulated warfare.  We can all cheer for our team/country, express undying hatred for the other team/country, and go home feeling like we participated.

Plus, I'm from New England, which means you have to cheer vociferously for all of our regional teams if you give a rat's ass.

Confession time: I'm totally one of those people that says things like "Get the puck in the net!" and "Keep the puck out of their net!" and "Skate! Skate faster!" and other obvious things that make me sound like I understand sports. I have no idea what's going on about 1/2 the time.

Touchdown!

Now I want to talk about the childrens.

Rob and I have been talking a lot about children lately.  There was a time (in other words, my entire adolescence and young adulthood) that I worried excessively about my own fertility.  I don't have much of a reason to fear this other than my need to stress about everything I can't control, but the fear has always been there regardless, at least until I had a revelation last year.

Generally my way of dealing with anxiety is to consider the absolute worst case scenario - usually this makes me feel better because the worst case scenario (typically) isn't that bad.  One day last May I finally applied this to my fear of infertility and imagined the worst case scenario:

We can't have children. 

But we still have each other, and I know we can live a long, full life together.

I'm going to go ahead and apply a disclaimer here and say that this is my thought process, no one else's, and this isn't meant to challenge, criticize or debate anyone else's ideas, actions, motives or thoughts.  Okay? So no fighting down there in the comments.

Rob and I talked and talked and eventually agreed that if we cannot have children on our own through the good old-fashioned and fun method, we will give up control of our fertility and let what happens, happen...and maybe consider adoption if we decide to go that route later. 

This translates into no medical intervention, no stressing, just letting the chips fall where they may. I'm doing this in part to protect myself emotionally - I know that if it comes down to it, I will stress myself into infertility. I will feel a sense of obligation to Rob and to our families, inevitably developing feelings of inadequacy should we encounter an issue.  It is my belief that by completely ceding control to the fates, by making children an option rather than a requirement, we will (hopefully) remove the stress from the equation and make it into an experience that we enjoy.

If we can't have kids, we'll buy a big farmhouse on a shit-ton of land and have 5 dogs. We'll travel, we'll work, we'll live life.  And if we can have kids, we'll just do all of those things with little Caitlin-Rob clones at our feet.

Of course, like anything else, this is subject to change with the winds, with time, with maturity, and with change.  But for now it suits me just fine until the time comes to start trying.

And with those thoughts, I bid you all good night and adieu.  Thanks for your input on the giveaway, by the way!

Friday Bits & Pieces

For some reason I am not feeling particularly coherent today, so here you are, a numbered list instead of paragraphs!

1. I'm contemplating a giveaway...but want to gauge interest first.  Would any of you be interested in a very artsy "Maine" giveaway featuring an amazing Maine artist and craftswoman? I'd love to hear your opinions.

2. Rob leaves early tomorrow morning to prepare for his sister's Baccalaureate and Graduation on Sunday and Monday, respectively.  I can't go because I have to travel for work on Sunday, but for some reason him leaving is always harder on me than when I'm the one leaving. I think it's a sort of PTSD left over from our Army days, when I was constantly anticipating him leaving me after a week or two together.  I get really anxious, so anxious that my chest aches, and I wake up every 3 hours the night before freaking out until it's time to get out of bed.  I have a lot of residual issues left over from the Army days...actually I've been struggling with composing a post about it. 

3. Piggybacking on #2, I'm trying to plan what to do tomorrow in Rob's absence. I'm thinking of a whole-house cleaning which is about as likely to happen as say, me cutting off my own toes, but a girl can dream.  I'm thinking it'll be a nice day to chill out, get a haircut, and watch the Bruins game on my own.  Have to appreciate the alone time sometimes, right?

4. Rob and I finally joined the rest of our generation and bought a Roku box with the hope of using Netflix Instant.  Yes, it has taken us this long to get to this point and yes, we are 70.

5. Have you seen the pretty new button I made? I've been teaching myself Photoshop through playing around and through online tutorials and I think it's pretty lovely, if I do say so myself.

6. I'm considering getting a tattoo for Cypress at some point.  I don't want a paw print, but maybe the outline of a Cypress tree or something?  I never thought I'd get a pet tattoo but this little lady is my family.  Call me strange but there it is.

7.  One blog I'm really enjoying right now is The Quiet Life of Violet.  She's one of the blogs I'm sponsoring and she is just too lovely.  I love finding other young, married, female bloggers and I love finding people who are in love.  Isn't love just awesome?  Aren't young people in love just awesome?

What did you do this week?

Things I Love Thursday

I've seen these kinds of posts in several places (like here and here and here) and thought I'd share some of the things I am loving this week.

This letter to new bloggers by Pugly Pixel (thanks to four-eyes rella for this find)

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This I Heart Maine necklace from Truche (other states are available!)
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This beautiful burner/vegetarian/gluten-free wedding - particularly the Moose and Cow poem.

Meditations on a Mock Interview.

This list of words that don't exist in the English language (courtesy of Laced with Love)

Acoustic version of my favorite song ever by one of my favorite musicians.

These tattoo dolls I've seen all over the place. My kids will have these one day.

Hilarious comic/article about the first season of Teen Mom.

This Russian version of MST3k called "Project Popcorn" that is basically a shameless ripoff (but hilariously so)

LEGO EATING UTENSILS!!1!

Possibly the best comic the Oatmeal has ever produced.

Okay, this one was really good too.

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This tattoo headband for little ones. (1) I want one in my size or (2) I want to buy one now for my future daughter. Or son. I really don't care about gender roles.

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This "I like the way you smell" print from SpreadtheLove.
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These awesome knit mits and Comfy Skirt I bought from Texture while in Washington.

This video about how important it is to wear sunscreen (I might've cried a little bit).

19 Bad Ideas for History-Based Video Games.

If Movies were Realistic.

I'm Not Racist, but... - Tumblr featuring screenshots of Facebook statuses saying "I'm not racist, but..." and then, predictably, following up with something incredibly racist.

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These Matryoshka, in Russian Матрёшка (yeah, that's right, I have a degree in Russian) glasses I bought while in Washington.
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While we're talking about Russian, I also like English names spelled in Russian characters. Mine is Кэйтлин. I know you're impressed.

I also like soft, almost-like-the-real-thing gluten-free bread, Claussen pickles and string cheese.

What are you loving this week?

Some Letters I've been Meaning to Write III

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Dear Hangover 2,

You were a huge disappointment.  The great thing about the original Hangover was the subtlety of Zach Galifnakis's character. In this movie I felt like his character--and jokes--were being slapped against my head like a fish.

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Dear Mythbusters,

Just...keep doing what you're doing.  Thanks.

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Dear My Brain,

Could we stop with the endlessly dissecting social interaction, both online and off?  You're treating the blog world like you dealt with high school, and high school was miserable. I can't believe I'm actually concerning myself more with what people online or offline say/think/do than, say, how lucky I am, or what a nice day it is.  Priorities, brain, please.

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Dear Body,

I'm far too hard on you, I know that.  But can we start showing some results from 6 months of gym?  I'm starting to get disheartened.

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Dear Birds Outside Our Window,

I understand the whole 'catch the worm' thing, but 4:30 a.m.? Really? Is it bird convention time?  Are you all screaming obscenities to each other, or to me?

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Dear Cypress,

I know that with spring come lots of rotting deliciousness left over from the frozen winter, but every time you roll so indulgently in said rotten deliciousness you get in trouble and get a bath, which you hate. I'm not sure you've heard of this quote, because you're a dog, but Albert Einstein famously said, "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Please find a more civilized and more fulfilling hobby, like stamp collecting or knife throwing.

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Dear Maine,

Thank you for heeding my frequent requests for nicer weather. I am loving the 80 degree days and bright, sunny skies...and even the thunderstorms.  But you can keep the mosquitoes...they were not part of the agreement.

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Dear Old Men in the Gym,

Rob and I are starting to think that your wives and doctors force you to go to the gym, but you don't really want to, and that's why you spend about 80% of the time standing in the main thoroughfare chatting about spruce trees.  I know you punctuate these conversations with a set of 3 5-lb bicep curls, but could you please move to the locker room or, you know, a coffee shop or something?

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Dear Parents at the Gym,

I can understand that with children it's hard to find time to go to the gym, but I really cannot excuse allowing your two-year-old to climb on the machines while you work out on other machines.  There are WEIGHTS and PEOPLE WALKING AROUND. Either bring your kid in the morning when there is free childcare, stay at home and buy some weights, or have your kid stay in the big open area with kids' toys and other funnery.

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Love,

Caitlin

xoxo

Featured on Scenic Glory and June Sponsorships

I am so excited to share this feature! I contacted Lindsay of Scenic Glory a month or so ago to share the story of my half-sleeve. Head on over there and read about it if you're interested! And while you're at it make sure to follow Lindsay, her blog is just lovely and is one of my daily reads!

On a side note I am sponsoring Lindsay for the month of June.  I am also sponsoring these lovely ladies:

So make sure to check them out as well!  Have a lovely mid-week, everyone!