Deployment Nesting

My family and I have experienced three separations: one unaccompanied tour to Korea and two deployments to Iraq. We have been lucky to have been on a TRADOC (Training & Doctrine) installation for the last three and a half years, which means that my husband hasn’t deployed in almost four years.

That all changes this month.

I have mixed feelings about this deployment. To understand these feelings you’ll need to know the logic that was behind our decision to not PCS this summer and, instead, remain here and have my husband deploy with the unit.

For him it’s a unit he knows. He has worked with them for more than a year and he’s comfortable with the team with which he’ll be leaving.

For me and the girls, it means staying in the same house, the same school, the same dentist, hairstylist, doctor, etc. It also means a “reset” of the deployment clock. Another thing in our favor; it’s nine months vs. the long 15 months we’ve endured previously.

Why mixed feelings? Because it’s still a separation.

Our youngest has never endured a deployment. Our oldest has endured so many. Even though we know it’s the best thing for our family, there is always that remote possibility that he won’t return.

(I know, I know, you can get hit by a car walking in the PX parking lot, but that’s not the point here. It’s a worry.)

I also must readily admit that I was ready to PCS. I had said my peace and started the “move out” process of thinking. I was excited about what was to come this summer and adventures in a new place. I’m sure you’re wondering who gets sad about something like not moving. I know, I’m odd.

My husband just started his two weeks of block leave. I found myself making a list a mile long of things that I needed to do and him to do before he left. Things like bringing wood up to the front so that we can have a fire when it’s cold, showing me where the generator is for when we lose power, how to blow up the pool for the summer, cleaning the basement, staining the swing set, storing the Harley, etc. He was expecting everything on that list.

What he wasn’t expecting, and frankly neither was I, was the additional list that I formed in my head. This list was a crazy amount of cleaning and organizing. I found myself making the list after I was knee-deep in about half of the pantry clean out. He came in seeing me working hard, dripping sweat, in my absurd frenzy, and said “you know we’re not PCSing, right? I’m deploying. So, why are you nesting?”

Nesting? What the heck was he talking about? At first I was offended. I was not nesting. I was cleaning out the pantry. How dare he!

Then, I realized after making my mental list of what drawers, cabinets, and closets needed tending to…I was nesting.

I posted a note on my Facebook page that said, “I’m essentially nesting. I’ve done this when I was pregnant. But, out of three separations/deployments I’ve never had this experience. Has anyone experienced this phenomenon as part of their pre-deployment cycle?”

To my surprise, I was quickly made to feel normal by many of my friends. Why didn’t someone warn me that I would want to do this? I guess it’s not a bad thing. My house is all organized—who can complain about that?

After I spent the next few days analyzing myself (yes, always a critical eye) and talking with friends about my experiences, I realized what this “nesting” was accomplishing.

Deployments and the time leading up to them and after them are so out of our control.

So much is up the air, not only schedules but emotions. They’re out of the norm. This was my way of controlling that which I could control.

Controlling is a managerial function that includes planning, organizing, staffing, and directing. I was planning our time spent without Daddy and all that time would entail: wood, pool, etc. I was organizing the pantry, closets, and cabinets. I was staffing my friends and babysitters to be on call, should they be needed.

As our service members train and prepare for battle, military spouses must also have a battle plan, including battle preparation. I was preparing for my next nine months without my spouse. I was, as Star says, preparing my launch pad.

Tara to Control Tower: I’m ready
Control Tower: In 3, 2, 1…

A good friend of mine always says, “If they don’t leave, they can’t come back.”

We might as well get this show on the road so we can get closer to the “light at the end of the tunnel.”

Or at least closer to the next PCS.