12 Weeks

What do you think of when you see "12 Weeks"? I used to think about that's how long a school term could be or that's your first trimester of pregnancy and after that 12 weeks is the "safe" zone to announce the pregnancy.  Now?  Now, today, 12 weeks is the amount of time I have left living with my husband.  It choked me up a bit when I counted today, thinking that "WAIT A MINUTE! That isn't much time at all!"

You see, George is leaving for boot camp in the United States Army in 12 short weeks.  When he first enlisted and his ship date was November, I thought it was OH-SO-FAR-AWAY.  Well we jampacked our fucking summer with a million plans and events.  Er.....wait .......rewind.  I jampacked our summer with events every weekend.  Luckily it only took me two months to figure out that this is NOT the way I wanted to spend our remaining weeks together. 

This weekend is Hood to Coast weekend and our last huge event of the summer, lets thank God and my self control for not jumping to and attend every single invitation we receive (it's hard for me, people) I'm like a two year old that doesn't go to bed because she might miss something if she isn't  part of it! Gasp, Megan miss something??  The horror.  I'm learning through this process of getting ready for George to leave that our last weeks together are best spent, just that.  Spent together. 

I'm scared.  I'm really not excited for him to leave us, not really at all.  I am so very proud though at the same time, it's all very conflicted, all my emotions surrounding this new phase of our life.  It gets quite exhausting to manuever my way through these emotions.  Yesterday I walked in the back door of our house, the dogs going all apeshit wanting dinner (selfish much??) I've got groceries, fucking furballs jumping all over me, I almost drop my wine (oh, HELL no) and I struggle to put it all down, my iPhone beeps at me "Text Mssg, bitch" and I sit down on the kitchen floor and cry. 

Because he's leaving. 

They said it would happen, these fits that come out of nowhere, these tears that come out of left field.  I didn't fight it, I just let it happen, luckily I have dogs to sit quietly looking at one another like "Shit, bro - did WE do that?  She's all crying and shit"  (My dogs talk like high-fiving frat boys) Which made me laugh. 

This is gonna happen I guess but I've found some VERY useful and informative websites, blogs and forums that are helping me cope.  Even still, I feel like I'm on an island unto myself because most wives go with their husbands for a four year enlistment, but not this Army wife.  I gotta stick around here for my kid and I WANT to stick around here for him, I can't leave him now.  So even though there are lots of Army wife support - where is the support for the Army wife who doesn't go with her soldier.

Guess I'll just have to create some.