An interesting (and I suppose very useful) lesson I've learned from Army life is this: I'm not in charge.
I've learned to relinquish any imagined bit of control I've thought I had over the places where real life intersects with the life my family has fashioned. Some things are going to happen, and I'm not going to like them, and there's nothing I can do about it.
I can complain. No one will care.
I can refuse. No one will ask me.
"Tough titties said the kitties, but the milk's real good".
So he's gone again. Not a deployment. Not anywhere dangerous (unless you consider lack of sleep and being yelled at dangerous). It's only two weeks, instead of a year. And in fact, he'll only be a hop, skip, and a jump away from the base.
So, I'm at peace with it.
If it were a deployment, and if it were somewhere dangerous, and if he were going to be gone for a year, well...
I'd have to be at peace with that, too.
What else could I do, besides torture myself while life went on and decisions were made without consulting me and days passed without the sun and the moon checking with my schedule to find out when the best time would be to appear and fade away?
The Army has been teasing us with PLDC with some time now. It was the 19th of August. Then it was the 29th. It was for two weeks. Then it was a month. Then it was two weeks again. He was going to miss the start of school and Orian's birthday. Then he was just going to miss Orian's birthday. Then he wasn't going to have to go for the foreseeable future. PLDC was full. Then he didn't have a valid ID card (his and mine both have E3, not E5, on them). Oh, and what about his tape test?
All concerns and glitches have been remedied or dismissed.
And he is gone.
So all that is left for me to do is keep things running smoothly in his absence (which I have quite a bit of experience doing at this point) and find little ways to better myself to make these two weeks worthwhile.
The good is that groceries will be lest costly. I can watch what I want on TV (not that I usually watch TV while he's gone...I don't enjoy it as a solitary activity). I can go to bed as early or as late as I want. I can use the car at my whim (not that I have too many places to go). I can wear a skirt and heels and lots of make up or I can wear pajama bottoms and a tank top and not brush my hair, and feel no guilt either way. I won't have to cook meat if I don't want to (not that he makes me, but I only cook it for his benefit).
There's a bittersweet sort of freedom that comes from these types of things, and I've learned to latch onto it.
I'm at peace with this camouflage colored business trip because I must be.