Deployment 2008

My husband left on Saturday, July the 19th, at 9:30 a.m...or 0930, as he would say.
Unless he gets leave time, which is up in the air at this point, he will be gone for 362 more days.
The good news is that he didn't have to go overseas. He's a drill sergeant, so the military, in its ultimate and unending wisdom, decided they could make better use of him here in the states providing training.
Despite the fact that we have a military training base in the exact same state in which I and my husband have been residing for the past 14 or so years, and that said military base is approximately an hour and a half drive from our front door, the powers-that-be did not elect to send him to Fort Jackson in Columbia, S.C.
No. Because that would have been too easy.
Instead, they're sending him just about as far away as they can send him and still keep him in the continental U.S. Yeah. They're sending him to California.
There's probably some poor schmuck drill sergeant in California who is, at this very moment, being flown across the country to Fort Jackson for his deployment. They'll probably pass each other in the air.
He'll be living at Fort Hunter-Liggett, a "U.S. Army Combat Support Training Center (CSTC)" which is designed to "prepare Warriors to fight and win the Global War on Terrorism. " Hoo-rah! Fight, Warriors, Fight!
So, how is our three-year-old son handling all the daddy being gone stuff? He's doing surprisingly well. We told him that daddy has to go away for a while to help fight bad guys and keep people safe...to which Drew responded, "Like a Power Ranger!"
Exactly! Only lacking the gloriously bright costumes!
Drew is very big into pretending. He pretends to be, on varying days, a Power Ranger, Spiderman, a soldier, a policeman. His response, whenever he asks for something we don't have, is, "Well, let's just pretend we have it!" How optimistic! I don't need money! I can just pretend like I have money! (isn't that really what the credit card industry is all about?)
So, yesterday, on the way home from school, he asked me if his daddy was here.
"No, baby," I said. "Daddy's still at work."
Drew processed this for a moment, and then told me, "We can just pretend Daddy is here!"
"OK, that sounds like a great idea."
"Yes, it does," said Drew, with his typical modesty. "He's sitting in the front seat with you. He's invisible."
"Ohhhh, OK. Hi Daddy!" I said, waving to the passenger seat.
"Mama. Daddy can't talk," Drew said scornfully.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day, who is a true single mom, and she was welcoming me to the club of single parenthood. In some ways, I obviously have it much easier than a single mother. My husband calls me every time he can, I'm secure in the knowledge that he loves me and Drew, he's as involved as he can possibly be living so far away, and of course, I get access to all of his money and not just what the court makes him pay me in child support.
Yet in other ways, I told my friend, you have it easier. At least every other weekend you get to have some time to yourself.
"I don't want it, though!" she cried. "I hate it when I have to leave him with his daddy for the weekend."
Pondering this, I came up with the perfect solution, "Maybe on those weekends, you could have Drew!"