Pre-Move Transition: Feelings of Indifference

Time is marching on.  I have just 3 months before life, the life I have created for this space & time and cultivated for the past 3 years, changes again.  We are moving back to Hell Texas in June.  I have pulled out the moving checklist.

The emotional transition has started.  Which means I am starting to disassociate myself from this place that I love.  I am starting the shutdown, severing ties, no longer reaching out or building community.  Soon life will be all about tying up loose ends.

I’m not quite at the point of thinking “This will be the last time I’m here.”  But I have noted the mental list of all those things I should try to do before I go and all the people I should see one last time before I head out.

Of course, this is also when my “job” kicks into high gear.  While maintaining the home front, providing the kids with the illusion of control and calm, I need to look ahead and envision life at the next place.  I am responsible for securing our next housing situation over a 1,000 miles away.  Where to live.  Schools.  Commute.  Childcare.

Things I will miss:

Veteran's Day 2012 Morning Run

Who's your crawdaddy?

Moms Night Out in Clarendon. Not quite our crowd (too young!)

 Mt Vernon

From South Dakota to DC, a reunion 10 years later

Exhibit at the Museum of Natural History

1. I will miss my 5-mile radius world that include seeing the Washington Monument, the contrails of the Air Force Memorial, the Pentagon, the view along the George Washington Parkway practically every day.  I will miss that one wrong turn and oops! I am in DC. 
2.  I will miss my incredibly awesome neighbor Sylvia who has been my lifeline during this deployment. But also because she’s become a true friend with whom we have shared our true fabulous selves, when the I-have-my-shit-together façade crumbles, when we let the other in to see us when we think no one is looking.  Plus, at the bus stop, on our walks, through our texts, and many coffee pick-me-up dates, she has listened to the crazy, the hypochondria, and the schemes with kindness, with acceptance, and always with humor.  I think she will get the I-will-miss-you-the-most award hands down. 
3. I will miss my friend Cristin and am sad we won’t be able to marvel about motherhood and marriage and lament why no one prepared us for this, all the while eating our way across NoVA.
4.  I will miss taking Handsome Little Man to the Natural History Museum.  We have been there so many times, Little Man could be a tour guide.
5.  I will miss my church.  Finally a place to breathe and question without judgment.   A place to grow, share, and build community.  I love my small intergenerational fellowship group as we study, embrace, and practice peace.  I will miss the challenge of teaching young children.  I will miss the lessons I learned from the wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing.  Finally, I will miss committing to something larger than myself (The first time I have ever been a member of a church.).
6.  I will miss my stylists, Tom & Masis at Ebru Salon, who make me look fabulous.  I walk out of the salon and it’s just like a hair commercial.  Gorgeous, silky hair that I flip back and these luscious locks make me flash my most dazzling smile because I know I look that good.  (We all know that finding a stylist who gets you is always the hardest part about a relocation.  Hey, a gal has beauty standards to maintain!) I took a chance with a blind walk-in one day and couldn’t be happier.  
7. I will miss my Wild Streak Adventure.  Never to be re-created.  
8. I will miss my routine of Lebanese Taverna, my neighborhood Starbucks, my neighborhood toy store, and Homemade Pizza on Friday nights.
9. I will miss my coffee dates and moms night out with all my friends, old and new, that I have gathered on the journey thus far, many with whom I have reconnected because our paths converged again:  Joanna, Kristen, Amber, Brittney, Danielle, Jen P, Lisa H, Elaine. 
10. Most of all, I will miss the world of possibility that this place has to offer.  To me, DC Metro offers a glimpse of what could be if only I’d make up my mind.  I will miss the sense of adventure.  You could live here a lifetime and always be discovering. A breath of fresh air.  A place I feel I belong.  I am not a Nobody and not a “Somebody”.  I just am and it is wonderful.

The truth is we milspouses work so hard to create a fulfilling life at each new assignment, and then just like that, we have to give it up.  Start over.  It’s a loss.  And I’ve been grieving ever since Hubby told me back in December that we were moving.  It’s a process.  This time around I feel it acutely and it’s taking longer than “normal” to bounce back.  I am no longer intensely angry (ok, ok, I am still angry that I have to go back to TX, just not murderously angry anymore).  I am just grieving, working on accepting what is, and will eventually move on. 

I am, however, still not ready to face the cheerleaders about the bright side of moving.  Of all the opportunity of moving back.  Spare me the positivity and enthusiasm for another month or so.  At least wait until it’s spring and I’m in a reasonably good mood because of the weather. 

GIRLS NIGHT OUT: Retro 80s Stylin'!

Is Spoiled Wifey A Dancing Fool?

This past Saturday was Girls Night Out: 80s dress-up, dinner, drinks & dancing.

After 3 cosmos at the restaurant, I was already feeling like I ROCKED my 80s outfit. Oh yeah, I owned it. All the embarrassment of 80s dress-up with ridiculous hair was long gone. Now I dared my fellow bar patrons with my strut & attitude: “Why yes, I am wearing electric blue leggings. Look, Love & Covet, people!” Add Malibu rum (on the rocks!), and I apparently thought I belonged as the CENTER OF ATTENTION of an EMPTY dance floor, in front of the lead singer, getting my groove on, precariously clutching my precious dancing-inducing elixir.

My girlfriends were very kind to me.

They RESCUED me before I truly made a dancing fool of myself (perhaps already too late?). I know I am no dancing Elaine, thankfully. However, drunk Spoiled Wifey in 80s garb, dancing solo is probably not much better. The girlfriends closed ranks around me before I did anything truly regrettable. We had our instant dance party and a good time was had by all.

I am foolish about a lot of things. But dancing with my girlfriends, letting loose, and having a good time is not one of those times, or maybe I should say an appropriate time to be so. Girls Night Out are few and far between for our group of moms with preschoolers. How I will miss all these gal pals! We all relocate this summer and scatter to the four winds.

I am very grateful for the friendships I have made, given the short time we have been here, less than 10 months. I have learned to never underestimate how a gathering of friends can be so much fun (as it ought to be) but also life-affirming and empowering (hubby’s favorite word), even if we are wearing retro!

BTW, much thanks to my designated driver! You know who you are. 

P.S. I still had preschooler duty at 0730 on Sunday morning, thank you very much!