Long old week

It’s Thursday today. I didn’t write last night as I had my lovely neighbour round for a glass of wine… or two! Rude not to midweek. So I arrive at my computer at 7.06am whilst Lennox watches Peppa Pig next to me. Dale went to football last night, its the best thing he has joined a local football club, he probably doesn’t know it yet! He trains on a Wednesday and turns up on a Saturday to watch or play the match. All men, no women. I think thats what he misses most of all about the army, men, banter, togetherness. I get it. I used to joke about him now living with only me, before Lennox arrived. He went from living in a block full of men to living with a pregnant woman in his ready made home. You see I was 5 months pregnant when Dale came out of the army, luckily for him as before he came back in March I was a tired mess. I had no sickness in pregnancy but could barely keep my eyes open before 17 weeks. Then we lived in a lovely little 3 story, 3 bedroom house. I would walk through the front door from work and begin undressing myself up the stairs as I made my way to bed. I could literally sleep for 12 hours a night. I remember begining to feel ‘normal’ by 17 weeks. It’s strange isn’t it, I mean the most normal thing to us ‘civvy’s’ is living with our partner and raising our children together. Yet in reality my husband has strggled with just that. 4 years living with people he could trust his life with, been to war with, drank far too much with, spent summers together and travelled to foreign lands on adventure training together. Sometimes I feel I could never come close to those experiences… the army. I know it is different and after all it was Dales decision to leave the army and begin his family back in Cheltenham with me but can you imagine living with a man who never forgot his ex? Some days it feels like that, especially in the early stages of his PTSD worming its way out. And now in turn, he is haunted by the things he has seen whilst his time in Afghanistan. But the army regardless to how he feels now is hands down his most favourable memories in his life, he is ammensely proud of his time in the army as we all are. He will always be a squaddie and will forever where his medals with pride. A veteran. As a mother, I hope to see him wear his son on his arm as proudly as the medals on his chest.