Our Texas sunset, just 24 hours after the Fort Hood shooting
There is something [insufferable] about the last month of a 12 month deployment. Let me walk you through
some of my challenges this little Harrison family has endured just over the past two weeks. The flu, for both Buxton and I. It's horrible when your children are sick, but when you yourself is sick and you have to clean up their vomit in between making your own trips to the bucket, awful. The check engine light on our vehicle, of course, although pricey enough, not something covered under warranty. The garbage disposal death, and you wouldn't figure that out till you've already put food down there and go to turn it on. Nope, not working! After trying every imaginable thing to clean it out, the stench filling my house just won't go away due to the inability to drain. Where is the plumber you ask? I'd like to know myself, oh rental companies. Pink eye for both my babies, which requires eye drops, a 4-times a day physical struggle between Buxton and I. And on top of that, he also has an ear infection (his first ever). Complete loss of control over my two year old energizer bunny. Each night being an exhausting battle to keep him in his own bed. And each day filled with tantrums and abuse towards his baby Sissy. He's as tired of boring me as I am sleep deprived.
And on a much different scale, the Fort Hood shooting. It was an emotion roller coaster for me. I feel very blessed that my kids and I were safe at home, and just as importantly, Matthew knew this. As an Army wife, especially one of a deployed soldier, you panic when you get a phone call from an unknown number, or when there is a knock at the door when you aren't expecting anyone. Is it the notification squad? Yes, just like in movies, this is really how we are informed our husband is dead. To know that 13 wives/families received that knock, tears my heart out. Knowing as I was sitting home, having dinner with my eyes glued to the TV, that my neighbor, or the women I sit by in church on Sundays, or my favorite teller at the Commissary, is getting that knock we all fear. Or that phone call about their injured soldier on his way to the hospital. My heart went out to the thousands of people, just blocks away from my house, standing outside the main gate of Fort Hood for hours, waiting to pick their children up from school, or unable to find or talk to their husbands. It's sickening. I had the opportunity to attend a candle light vigil for the fallen and injured, but am a bit ashamed to say I did not have to emotion strength (nor a nanny) to go to the memorial, not even to turn it on the TV. There wasn't one person in this community not effected by that day. The days to follow were days I wanted to escape. Every billboard was changed to prayers and thoughts going out to the soldiers and families, every flag lowered, and every corner filled with supporters, and reporters. Every entrance to post was heavily guarded with armed soldiers. Every time you went on post to go grocery shopping, or to drop your kids off at daycare, or to visit a friend, there was a soldier with a huge gun posted outside each doorway. This was all new, and due mainly to the Presidents soon arrival. Since then these measures have ceased and I am grateful for that. I was not fond of the idea of Buxton having to see these weapons every time we went to the store for milk. I am more then grateful the extra security has stopped, it did not serve its purpose of making me feel more safe. But Matthew was a ease knowing precautions were being made to keep his family safe, and for that he was very grateful.
It's the last month when us wives are done. Our kids are done. Our husbands are done (they are the silent victims here, although going through endless boring day, they are soldiers, they don't complain). It's worst then the first month, where you psych yourself out with words of motivation, "OK, time to get our new routine in order, plan trips home, keep busy." Now it's just "AHHHHH" It's so close, yet so far. Although we have less than 30 days, they will be the slowest days ever lived. We know we only have to push through a few more weeks, and in reality there is so much to be done in preparation, but we can't seem to find the strength to do anything. I keep saying we, I'm not talking about the kids and I, I'm talking about the other wives I know who are rounding up the last month.
That "so much to be done in preparation" talk, we seem to settle into this nesting stage before our hubby's great return! Besides the basic eye brow waxing and hair appointments and 'welcome home' outfits to shop for, we begin to think about the [less important] things. Clean the carpets, get the garage in order, organize the kids closets. As if our men notice those things?! For me, those things are always clean and neat (OCD), but I get extra freaked about them before Matthew's return, not because I'm worried what he'll wonder I've been doing for the past year, but because I don't want to have to do anything more then what goes along with being newlyweds again (newlyweds, newlyfamily, it's one in the same when you've got two beautiful babies)!
During a 12 month absence of the 'man of the house', there are moments that come, such as the car's engine light, or maybe something as simple as changing a light bulb, that make us burst into tears. "Why do I have to break out the tool set, stand on the chair, and drop the hot light bulb that shatters on the floor?" or "I shouldn't have to be dealing with the car mechanic who is probably taking advantage of my lack in vehicle knowledge, this is my husbands job." Yes, these moments come, and I don't think I complain [out loud] too much during the moment, so you'll have to bear with me through my rant. I think more then civilians, us Army wives get quite unpatriotic!!!
No, I am honored my husband is one serving his country, doing the duties asked of him. I am proud of my Matthew and honored to be a Military wife. All this rant comes because, I am only human. These are the struggles we have endured and are looking forward to putting them behind us, and enjoying living our life together.
I've made the best of this year, chuggin' through life the best I can, keeping a "normal" life for our military brats, but this year is almost over, and I thank God for that. The Welcome Home ceremony brings emotions, I promise, you've never felt before. It's a day of honor, celebration, and remembrance of those who didn't make it home. A day Matthew and I have lived through in our heads hundreds of times. It almost makes this year worth it! Knowing this day is (not soon enough) approaching, is literally u n b e l i e v a b l e. This being the only word I can find to describe that day.
Happy Thanksgiving Daddy!
CHARLIE! I don't think he got enough stuffing
Here I am so sad I couldn't finish my plate...
Here Brenna is so sad she COULD finish her plate...
Meet Jessica. After hearing this women say to the hostess that she needed a table for ONE, my heart sunk. And as my husband likes to say, "your heart is so big, Baby." I invited Jessica to join us, at our loud crazy table for Thanksgiving. She was a great addition to our meal!
Our Brayleigh Ray was a GREAT eater. She ate her puffs, Brothers mac n cheese, Mommy's mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn and green beans. Plus she started with a biscuit. Buxton? He didn't eat a thing!
Cracker Barrel is famous for their wooden rocking chairs.
Brayleigh Ray, you are beautiful
Hes got this.
Buxton followed Ayden (3) all around, he likes to tag along with the big boys.
Go Aubrey Go! She was the first of us Mommies to be brave enough to swing on in!
I love you Brayleigh Ann!
She was all smiles on her mat. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out how to get down!
While I chased Buxton around, Beth helped me out with Miss Brayleigh Ray. There goes our little gymnast on the balance beam.
Cake Time
After two days of trying to eat the cake, while I was working on it, when it came cake time at the party, Buxton looked at me and said "I want cookie please"
Our Texas sunset, just 24 hours after the Fort Hood shooting
A force to be reckoned with - three attractive, well-built sergeant medics in dark glasses.
MedEvac on it's way out. Right around that time, someone was receiving a large dose of morphine.
This is just before the second picture was taken. Also just before myself and the cameraman were covered in dust from the rotorwash. This is also Mrs. Harrison's current favorite.
One big part of medicing (made that one up), is not letting the casualty know how bad they're injured. Like the Lieutenant in this picture who got very lucky. A special rpg penetrated the window of his vehicle and impacted between his legs. Broken fibula, broken toes, dozens of shrapnel pieces up and down his legs...but no, none in his special place. So once his injuries were treated and he was sufficiently doped up we joked around with him while waiting for the bird to fly him out.
Not many smiling faces in this one. It got a little hectic on this day. You can tell by the sweat-o-meter on my shirt. Yea, it's gross. I'm not going into the kinds of injuries we saw here. I think one guy left a chunk of shoulder and bicep behind though. One of those "turned the mop red" kinds of days. 
