When your husband is deployed, sometimes you have phone calls that go something like this:
Me: after telling him all about the girls and the recent events,
"So, how have things been going with you?"
Him: "I've been doing a lot of running. Thanks for sending the shoes. I bench pressed 120 today. Not much else has been happening. Oh, yeah - we got mortared today"
Me: "Really? Was anyone hurt?"
Him: "No, I don't think so."
Me: "Anything else new?"
Him: "Not that I can tell you"
Then I hand the phone to Amelia to let her talk to Daddy and tell him about her adventures. She tells him she wants a dragon costume for Christmas, that she's being a good big sister to Olivia, and all about her day and how much she loves him. We talk a few minutes more, say good bye and wait for the next time he calls from Afghanistan.
His deployments and the things that go along with them have become so much a part of our routine that it isn't until later I realize how strange it has become that having your vehicle blown up by an IED or getting shelled is part of normal conversation. I don't get scared or worried about him because there is no point. If something happens, by the time I hear about it, it will already be in the process of being resolved and worrying won't make our daily family life any more secure.
I wonder how much more strange it is for him to be there, living in one world and then having to talk about what things are like for us here. When he was in Iraq, he told me one time that it felt like he was on another planet and we seemed to be a dream to him from another life.