I'm loving and missing him.

A little over an hour ago, Amaris saw through our sliding glass door that someone was coming to the building in cammies and she said, "LOOK, Mommy, my DADDY!"

It broke my heart.  Like, into a billion pieces.

Pair that with the fact that I was supposed to get a phone call this afternoon from him, during which I had planned to tell him "Happy anniversary!"...  but he didn't call.  I'm sure he has some great excuse, but for the moment I am just so disappointed that I didn't get to talk to him like he said I would.

All day I did so well.  I took a shower, I got myself dressed (mostly), I was productive!  And then before I knew it, I was crying again.  I'm ready for a fast-forward button.

Okay, I'm not going to lie.  I'm still a total basketcase.

I do.  I hate being alone.  In fact, I think I'm terrified of being alone.  I don't mean I'm one of those women who depends heavily simply on "having a man".  I just mean that since I've got one, I don't want to be without him.  He is my companion.  One of those cheesy Myspace surveys asked if my significant other was my "everything".  My answer was that it's not possible for any one person to be my whole everything, but he's certainly a huge part of it.  I always think of "When Harry Met Sally" - the line at the end where Billy Crystal says "when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."  I apply that movie quote to pretty much everything in my relationship.  I feel like it means that you want to be with that person as much as you can.  Uninterrupted would be preferable.  With the Marine Corps in the middle, that's obviously a little less possible.  But I can still dream.

I was all big talk that I could handle this deployment, but now that it comes down to it, I'm a big baby.  I'm scared, I'm stressed, I'm anxiety-ridden to say the least.  I got the girls home and immediately Cadence, my easygoing, calm, peaceful baby burst into screams and tears.  She did that for about 20 minutes.  I couldn't help thinking to myself, "Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?"  I've spent the day sobbing - my face is red and puffy to serve as the proof.

It's real now.  He's far away.  I hate it.  I know I'll start feeling better soon and I'll make it through it, but for now I'm miserable and sad.

For her pretend birthday, she got a big girl bike with streamers and training wheels and she actually managed to ride it correctly for the most part.  Good thing we made her pretend birthday today because the rain is coming again and there's no telling how long it'll stay around this time.

Pretend special occasions are good.  Bittersweet, but good.

Add that disgusting little tidbit to the mold, the roach problem, the stench, Mark's 30-minute+ one-way commute and the awkward proximity to all of the neighbors (even the ones I'm not crazy about) and I'm pretty much ready to move out now.

Then there's the fact that we found out airline tickets really only run about $700 per head round trip to visit here.  So I'm anticipating that we'll have visitors.  Before, when I was thinking we'd be visitor-free, I figured to myself that at least nobody had to see how I was living here in this dump.  But now, if people are going to come and stay with us, I suddenly feel compelled to have a presentable and non-depressing home.

Unfortunately, moving for me isn't going to happen until Mark is back from his deployment.  And his homecoming is not going to happen till he goes away.  Not that I want him gone by any means, but if he's gotta go I've worked myself into the (eerily familiar) state of mind at this point that the sooner he leaves the sooner he can be home.  Fortunately for that emotion, his departure IS coming soon.

I'm ready to tackle my problems.  I'm ready to preoccupy, I'm ready to conquer, I'm ready to make things happen.  I'd rather he were staying behind with me, but since he's not, I'm making my plan.

And looming near the top of that plan is the big move-out.

Yesterday I enrolled her in a Japanese Catholic preschool.  She starts in early May.  She loved it there and was so excited.  I know we're making a great decision for her future.  The curriculum is Montessori based and the school itself comes with rave reviews.

So I got the school supplies list and ordered her school uniforms.  Yes - school uniforms.  The uniform for the warm weather ahead consists of a short sleeved white button down shirt and a little navy blue skirt with suspenders.  There's a PE uniform, too.  Orange shorts, a white with orange ringer t-shirt and a cap.

Today we are supposed to go shopping for the other school supplies.  I've been dying to take her school shopping since she was born, poor kid.  I love the smell of freshly sharpened pencils in the morning.

Anything for a distraction, I suppose.

We are quickly approaching our anniversary - this year we are celebrating 8 years of being a couple, and 4 years of marriage.  We're celebrating our two beautiful little girls, our ups, our downs...  Our adventure.  We're celebrating so much together.  When I think about the past 8 years and all of the joys and heartaches they've contained, at the risk of being cliche, my cup runneth over.

I laughed and told her nobody likes old pizza.  And then I said, "What would you like instead?"

"Cucumbers!"

"Cucumbers?  Really?"

"Yee-ah!"  (She always sounds like Flava-Flave when she says "yeah".)

"Okay, I'm not going to argue."

So I cut her up a cucumber and put it on her plate.  She sat down with it excitedly.  Two bites later she says, "Mommy, I no want any more."

I said, "You can't waste it!  What if I show you a cool trick, will you try to eat some more then?"

"Yee-ah!"

I grabbed the bottle of Ranch dressing out of the fridge while she watched and then she said, "Mommy, what's that?"

"Magic," I said.

"No it's not, it's dip!"

Smart ass.

Whatever though, she's eating her cucumber now without complaint.  Every bite doused in magic.  I mean, dip.

A man named Tomo cut my hair.  And he did a fantastic job with the cut and style, but the best part was the shampooing.  Seriously, it was worth every bit of the extra ¥500 I paid for it.  At least.

I've come to a realization that Japan is a very relaxing country.  You get a pedicure, it comes with a half-hour long foot and leg massage that is absolutely blissful.  You go to the flipping barber shop for a quick and easy buzz cut (a la the Marine Corps) and you get a quick massage at the end.  At the hair salon, they incorporate a 15 minute scalp massage in with your shampoo.    And let me tell you, it is heavenly.  Now, I am like any other American in a foreign country.  I'm not quite a tourist so I'm not loud and obnoxious (although my kid sure can be), but I'm not a local.  Which makes me hesitant to DO things.  I've been able to silence and kick aside that hesitation for the most part because I figure I am only here for three years, I'd better get in as much as I can.  But it is hard.  It's hard for me to pick up the phone and call an all-Okinawan salon and ask for a haircut appointment.  It's hard for me to balls up, get out and do things.  Fortunately I've got seriously one of the greatest possible friends here with me and we are able to motivate each other to DO and SEE.  So we made these hair appointments together and in the salon we sat side-by-side while our kids played in the little "children's room".  We experienced.  We enjoyed.  And thank God for that.

In about 40 minutes, I'll be getting my eyebrows waxed.  By the time Mark gets home I'll be like a new woman!

We've got dates scheduled for before he leaves and I am really excited to get to spend time with him before he goes away again.  Absence sucks royally, but it's true what they say about the things it does to your heart.  For the next couple of days, I'll be cleaning house and getting everything ready for him to come home to a low-stress, happy environment.  The poor guy deserves a little break.