Day 1.

Daddy finally left this morning. It's been a whirlwind of a week already. He was supposed to leave on Friday, seriosuly, leave on Friday. Then he got a call saying it wouldn't be til Monday. So Sunday, I was on the verge of tears all day. Just made time for teaching my Sunday School class. It was a rough morning. So after church, we sat around and cleaned a little bit (again, because the house was a mess from him not leaving on Friday), and went to a really nice expensive restaurant for dinner. Didn't hold back on ordering. It was our last meal together for the next eight months. On the way home, we stopped and rented a movie to watch with the kids, let them stay up late and cuddle with Daddy on the couch one last time. The movie is over, the kids fall asleep on the couch as Daddy talks to Gma and Gpa. Then, the phone rings and Daddy's co-worker tells him that he's not leaving til Tuesday. Gosh darn it. Just freaking get it over with already! So Monday, Daddy goes in to work for a bit, I'm completely out of food and had already scheduled an appontment to show the Delica to someone... so Daddy leaves for work and I leave for the grocery store. I get home, Daddy helps me bring in the food and goes back to work. He's home in time for dinner and I then have to leave again for praise team practice. I get home and we put the kids to bed, then go to bed ourselves. Sunday would have been a much better last day... but hey... I got some help bringing the groceries up, right? Totally kidding... every last second spent with Daddy is wonderful, even if the AirForce planes are jacked up.
So today, I take Daddy to work. Go to the gym. Run two miles. Lift weights. Go shopping like a mad woman. Make dinner. Go to karate. And now I'm here. At home. The kids are sound asleep. And the dishes are calling my freaking name. Man, how I hate dishes. I'm moving as soon as our year is up. To an apartment with an elevator and a dish washer. Damnit.

Daddy called me today to let me know he was about to take off. Then he called a few hours later to tell me he was back and that the headwinds were so strong they'd gotten half way when they had to turn around and come back to get more gas. Now, I don't know much about planes, or even gas for that matter, but that doesn't sound too safe to me. Hopefully he made it there in one piece without having to swim half way.

I'll keep you posted.