my brother is a terrific golfer, and my dad… is a terrific sport. he may not be the greatest at the game, but he is the greatest at genuinely enjoying playing with his son who is great at the game. the two of them have been walking 18 together for years, taking in different courses, swinging clubs in the fresh air. it’s a sport that bonds the two of them.

years back, the guys came home from a day of golfing and taught me a term that i have yet to forget. and these days, i am finding that term to be an accurate description of myself.

i remember dad and b coming home, setting their clubs in the garage alongside their shoes, smelling of sunshine and sweat, laughing about nothing and everything. they updated mom and i about their day, how they each played… a bogey here. a birdie there. and then my dad said something about one of the gentlemen he happened to notice while on the course. this man was not playing in their foursome, but he was certainly someone who captured the attention of my dad.

and in the words of my dad, this man was “all bag.”

my brother laughed as my dad described in detail the amount of gear this particular golfer had. from head to toe, he was decked out as though he were a walking sponsorship. the golf bag itself was pristine, clubs were not only top-notch, but immaculate as well. dad even described the golf towels this gentleman used. ball markers and golf tees that cost more than your average pair of sneakers.

but this guy’s golf game? SUCKED. he had all of the equipment he could possibly need to look like a pro/semi-pro athlete. unfortunately for him, he lacked all skill and natural ability to hit the ball.

he was “all bag.”

as the years have come and gone, i’ve listened to my dad and brother occasionally use this term to describe various people in different circumstances, not all sports-related. i’ve come to use the term myself, and eventually taught paul its meaning. everyone in my family gets a small chuckle out of referring to someone as being “all bag.”

and now it’s hit me that over the past 2 weeks particularly, i am the one who is “all bag.”

i am prepping for this baby’s arrival with gusto, purchasing what items we need, storing away things we don’t need, ridding our home of clutter. i have scheduled and started swim lessons for jackson to keep him busy during paul’s deployment, kept our lovely babysitter/nanny no further away than an arms length just in case. paul and i are laminating a world map for jackson to have in his room with a family picture over the state of florida and then a picture of his dad where he will be deployed to. the two of us are indulging in a weekend away soon, with mom watching jackson, so that we can have time alone.

i am doing all of the things i am “supposed to be” doing in preparation for my husband’s deployment and the arrival of our second child. there is no part of this preparation that has not already been considered. no rock will go unturned.

and with all of this effort, all of this STUFF, i am turning more and more into a basket case with each passing day. i’m keeping my emotions at bay as i continue to prep and make lists. some days i can distract myself easily, stay busy, get out of my house and engage. and other days, even when i do those things, i find myself needed an extra few minutes hiding in a public restroom while i fight off one of multiple panic attacks.

the tears are always RIGHT THERE, with their release being caused by the simplest of things… a smile from jackson, a kiss on the forehead from paul, a stranger holding a door open for me.

it doesn’t matter how many times before i have said goodbye to paul and watched him go. this time, i’m saying goodbye to him with children… one holding my hand and the other kicking my insides.

HOW DO THESE MEN AND WOMEN IN UNIFORM DO IT?

all the logic in the world that we are using to keep ourselves grounded can’t seem to fight off my current emotional state. all the preparation, planning, and check lists can’t get me truly ready for this spring.

i am all bag. putting on a good show for most, and being true to a select few and trusted folks… paul… my parents… my brother… and now, the internet.

it’s funny, some people can’t seem to understand WHY people blog. what would possess someone to share, at times, some very intimate details of their lives with a bunch of strangers? and i don’t know how to answer those questions. i don’t know the correct way to respond to that. all i know is that it feels right for me, and in times of desperation and heartache, sometimes i need to reach out and simply trust that someone, anyone, will be on the receiving end and hold my hand for a while. and then i promise to return the favor.

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as always, a continued THANK YOU to those of you sending your love and support during this time. also, a note about my anxiety for those concerned… my OBGYN is aware of our unique situation with this baby being born while her daddy is deployed and what that does to my brain. i am being well taken care of.