Well, in twenty one days (counting today) the movers will show up at my door and pack up all my stuff and take it away, perhaps never to be seen again. And in twenty four days, I'll be boarding a plane (with my three unruly children and no husband) to Biloxi and I'll never set foot in this house again! Now, this house and I have a love-hate relationship. I love it because it's so big, and you can watch TV while you load the dishwasher, and it has a playroom, and a scrapbook room, and a walk in closet that we could use for a nursery if we have another baby. I hate it because it's one of those quick new construction cookie cutter houses with ABSOLUTELY no character whatsoever. And since it was built quickly and poorly, it has NO INSULATION! Have I mentioned the icicle? On the INSIDE hinge of the back door? I have to wrap up in my snuggie with a scarf over my face just to sit in the recliner.
But I digress.
My children are finally starting to show some signs of confusion related to all this moving. Ava is still asking when we are going to see Addle. Nick and I talked so much about moving to Seattle (back when we thought the Navy would send us to Bangor, WA) and Ava somehow turned that into a visit to some unremembered friend named Addle. Huh. We talk now about moving again, first to stay with Grandma Terri, then to Grandpa Kenny, then to Disney World with Cousin Mia, then to Guam to see Lee. Naturally, neither one of them knows what we're talking about. Ava thinks that we're moving back to our 'real house' in Virginia and Scott...Scott's just baffled by the whole conversation. I just hope that with a little luck and a strict routine (notice I didn't say schedule-we hate that word!) they adjust rather quickly when we get to Guam.
Although it looks now like we'll be spending at least a week in a hotel out there, then into a rental until a four bedroom on the correct side of town opens up. I don't know how I feel about that. I want to live in base housing, in the big new four bedrooms that everyone talks about, but I don't really want to have to move twice in such a short span of time. You know? So I'm secretly hoping that we find a magical rental that's absolutely perfect and right next to the base (because you know, houses RIGHT NEXT TO BASE GATES are usually so perfect) and we can just stay there. I just can't fathom a forty five minute drive to preschool in the morning, then forty five minutes back home, then another forty five minutes to pick them up at lunch time, then another forty five minutes to get home again. Uh, hello, that's three hours in the car! Three days a week! I don't think so.
As is customary, I am freaking out (we're talking losing sleep- I'm now going to be talking advil pm just to get some rest) and Nick is sliding along in a sea of calm. I can tell he's at least a little rattled about the prospect of living in a teeny tiny shack seven hours from civilization, but he really truly believes everything will work out, and it always does seem to with him, so I'll try to get on board with being calm. I mean, in the end, there's not much we can do about it. Either they'll have a house for us, or we'll have to find one to rent.
There. I feel better already.