Preparing to move is at least a part-time job. Weeks, if not months in advance, the snowball begins. Hours and hours of research: school districts, potential preschools, neighborhoods, reputations, youth sports, doctors, churches, commute time and of course, homes to rent. Reading websites, networking, phone calls, follow-up phone calls....you try and connect the dots, compare, contrast...trying to conceptualize this 'life' that is scribbled in a notebook in a place that you are not familiar with. As the boys are getting a bit older, this task feels like such a heavy responsibility. You want to get it all 'right' the first time.
Within the home you spend hours sifting through everything. Organizing, consolidating, sorting, tossing, donating, shredding. Your hands touch just about every item you own as you question: Do we need this? Is it worth moving this? etc.
When you finalize on a home, suddenly, there is a ripple affect as more tasks come to surface. Calling utilities: canceling in one location, starting up in another. Though, this should require a quick, simple phone call, it rarely ends up that way. We have a master list of who we need to notify of our upcoming address change. You don't realize how many institutions, companies, people have your address until you do this step. Calling insurance: changing states with auto, covering your move, adding hurricane coverage...
As you get closer to your move date, the nitty gritty begins. Laundry! Washing curtains, area rugs etc. You want everything to be packed clean. Preparing the boys closets for the upcoming climate change--every mother knows the task of changing out the closets! :) Separating the items you don't want the movers to pack--personal files, photo albums; those items you can't replace. Then, you need to set aside those things you will need before you see the boxes at the other end. You try and ziplock toys with small parts, knowing they will be tossed into a box.
You try to anticipate everything!
Decisions, decisions, decisions...
Then, there are your everyday tasks to still cover--meals, laundry, errands, cleaning. The dinner plates start to see more 'convenient' foods. Laundry starts to pile and maybe on occasion, you dig something out of the hamper to wear.
Then, there are the boys. As we were stretched thin with tasks and responsibilities, they were basically sidelined. Our limited t.v. viewing was scratched. At first, the extra shows were fun for the boys; they indulged in the luxury of watching more and more t.v. Yet, the novelty wore off.
For me (and most) moving is emotional. I am already an emotional person. I feel every bump in the road. At every fork I ponder, anticipate, contemplate. I harbor pain, worry, wonder.
During our last month in Ohio, I was fragile. I felt like my body was suddenly in liquid form. I kept trying to gather myself but it was a fruitless task. My being would most certainly ooze back into a puddle on the floor. I could feel the thread. That single fiber which I dangled; saving me from completely unraveling. I liked Ohio. I didn't want to move which made each task feel like more 'work.' I didn't have much to give to the boys. As much as I tried to hold myself together, most certainly they felt my stress.
I was short-tempered.
I was impatient.
I caved in matters I used to be undoubtedly firm.
They needed more of me. I could see this in their eyes, in their body language, in their behavior. But, I had little to give. My pep-talks lacked much sincerity; my encouragement, hollow.
Initially, we prepared for a year long deployment after Ryan received notification of such. Then, we learned of an opening in S. Korea which would be in lieu of the deployment. We were preparing to move out of the country. We kept blinking as we read Florida; wondering if our eyes were deceiving us. This was not on our radar.
Now that we are here, we can certainly see that God's hand was in this. Hayden has transitioned beautifully into his new preschool. Logan, our home-body, suddenly has a strong yearning to go to school and looks forward to attending preschool next fall (we doubted that separation would ever come easily). We think we found a church that we all like. The boys have happily attended their Sunday school class and the two sermons that we heard, held our attention. We walked away feeling better. There is a lot of opportunity to meet other young families and grow. Ryan's unit has a fantastic and well organized spouses group who meets on a regular basis. I attended my first MOPS meeting here. Excited that they meet every other week; so much opportunity to meet other moms.
We LOVE living minutes away from the beach. Nothing soothes the soul quite like an afternoon at the beach. Worry, concerns, stress just isn't conducive with sand...they just sink.
Motherhood doesn't feel like such a 'task' any more. I feel lighter. My plate feels less full. I am back on the floor playing games, building, reading, laughing, snuggling. My investment in them is sincere. Our behavior expectations are uncompromising. (Logan suffered the most throughout all of these)
Just as all the moving stress trickled down, I know my joy will too. At the end of the day, the boys needed me and I couldn't give enough. Now I am here, fully present and as we move forward together, we are healing.
