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. 

Deployment Demons Rather Like Temptations

I dared to ask “What else?”  

I wasn’t really taunting them.  More like, I was asking in desperation for the shenanigans to stop.  For the evil eye of chaos and challenge to look elsewhere. Basically for the demons to stop snickering and messing with me and to find somebody new.  (Not that I really want to pass the “fun” onto the next milspouse, but seriously, I have already taken several for the team.)  My brain hurts from the mental exercises of finding solutions to all these challenges.  

You know how they say you see a person’s true colors when the chips are down?  How a person handles adversity shows their character? Let’s just say, I yell and curse a lot.  I probably should have my blood pressure checked.  I’m probably an excellent candidate for meditation classes.

I asked “What else?”,  and the Deployment Demons responded.  Not once, but twice. In rapid succession.  (1) Debit Card Locked.  (2)  Bent Car Key, now Inoperable.  Oh yes, I am serious.  VERY serious.

My brain short-circuited earlier in the week, and I couldn’t remember my PIN to my debit card.  I think I entered my PIN from years ago but apparently after 3 attempts, the system temporarily locks you out from re-entering your PIN.  After 7 failed transactions, it locks your card entirely.  This memory malfunction started last Wednesday, a day after the dashboard light appeared, and the day I spent most of my child-free time at the auto service department.  I gratefully had a much-needed Gals Night Out at Coco Sala for DC Restaurant Week.  However, after dinner I couldn’t withdraw money from the ATM for the babysitter.  Gah! Thankfully my girlfriend (not awesome neighbor Sylvia but another awesome friend, a fellow milspouse) bailed me out.  I didn’t use my debit card again until Saturday at the supermarket. The transaction was denied.  Here I am with a cartload of groceries, 2 hungry kids, no cash, and a debit card transaction denied.  Um, can we say Embarrassing!  Thank you, handy dandy credit card to the rescue!  And thank you, my awesome bank who has customer service representatives working hard on Saturday nights.  Card unlocked; PIN reset.  

My Faith restored.  My World intact.  And I was on my merry little way UNTIL the next morning.

Does something look not quite right in this picture?

Hmm.  How in the world did that happen?  Car key is bent.  We are sitting in the car getting ready for our Sunday church adventure and I’m wondering why my key won’t work. I can’t insert it into the ignition.  I can’t bend it back straight.  I now have an inoperable car.  Perfect, just perfect.  Deep breath.  Ok, cursing actually.  Yes, I know it’s a Sunday.  Yes, I believe that God will understand.  I think He even may have personally heard me loud and clear a few times while I sat in the driveway.  And then more deep breaths.

This time it’s a quick fix.  I *think* I know where the spare car key is.  After a very quick search, I find the spare key.  I am woman, hear me roar!  ROAR!

My Faith restored.  My World intact.  And I was on my merry little way.

I haven’t asked “What else?”.  It’s thankfully been a quiet week.

Deployment Demons Have Been Summoned, Part II

As I write this, I am sitting at the service department of the car dealership waiting for news about my car (presumably very bad with the possibility of causing high blood pressure, cursing under the breath, and a stiff cocktail at the end of the day). 

Of course, out of nowhere, or actually because the deployment demons have been summoned in full force, a little light popped up on my instrument panel yesterday.  In the 5 years I have driven this car, I have never seen this little light.  But of course, Hubby has not been gone 4 days and BAM! I have a new “growth opportunity” to contend with.  After driving around town for my daily dose of mind-numbing errands, I sat down to look at the car manual.  It reads:  “Anti-lock brake system: If the ABS light stays illuminated or continues to flash, a malfunction has been detected, have the system serviced immediately by your authorized dealer.”  Oh snap!

Sometimes, Ignorance really is bliss.  However, I, not knowing much about cars and because I follow directions, immediately called the service department for an appointment.  So here I sit.

How much “fun” will I have this time around from the deployment curse?  This time my fun began less than 1 hour after I dropped Hubby off at the airport.   The drop-off was a kiss-and-go.  He kissed us all good-bye without much fanfare and told the boy “See you later, Alligator.”  A round of “I-love-you’s” and I pulled away from the curb.  Deep breath.  Smile.  Go.

As we drove home, the Boy and I discussed what a great visit we all had, and how he was going to stay in better touch with Dad through email.  Yada, yada, yada.  I had warm, fuzzy feelings toward Hubby until I put my hand in my coat pocket to retrieve my house key, only to realize that HE had my house key.  And HE was 30 miles away at the airport, probably already through security.  It’s starting to snow.  It’s dinner time.  I have cold, hungry kids and NO house key.

Spoiled Wifey Moment:  I am sometimes, *ahem*, a bitch.  This little fiasco couldn’t go unreported.  I did call Hubby to inform him that he should check his coat pocket.  Did he feel bad?  Yes, as he should.  I realize this was one thoughtless act was completely accidental (We were doing the divide and conquer with the kids.  I was strapping Diva Darling in her car seat, while he was rounding up Little Man and locking up the house.).  But it still caused a lot of *ss pain for me nonetheless.

I called my neighbor who rescued me and the kids from the cold and hunger.  We took refuge in her home, and I started dealing with the situation.  My kind neighbor couldn’t locate our spare key, and we weren’t sure if she even still had it.  I called my landlord.  He didn’t have a spare either. *sigh* Two house keys were making their way to the other side of the world.  The spare’s location was unknown.  I was locked out.  Perfect, just perfect.

The locksmith was called.  He was very courteous, prompt, and EXPENSIVE.  I didn’t bother with price comparison when it’s a Saturday night, snowing, and I’m annoyed.  (Aside:  It is rather disconcerting how easily a lock can be picked.  It didn’t look like any special tools were really necessary.)  Anyway, a quick fix and we were all back in the warm house by bedtime.

Now every time I come home, the new and shiny gold doorknob reminds me of my Hubby.  Whether it is a good or bad association, I’ll never tell….

CAR UPDATE: Punch to the gut.

A sensor has gone rogue.  The sensor replacement part only costs $20, but it’s located behind a wheel, axle, and 2 hours of labor to get to it.  As I’m calculating money and scheduling logistics, the service technician says, “Oh, by the way, your brake pads are measuring 4/32 and should be replaced.  If it measures 2/32, it won’t pass a state inspection.”  Hmm, do it now since I’m here or wait until next month, consuming another day of precious child-free time?

I had to call into the support network.  My kind neighbor, the very same one who sheltered us during the lockout, is meeting Little Man at the bus stop.  This is the very same neighbor who 3 weeks ago watched Diva Darling when I was curled up in a ball of misery, incapacitated from a violent, nasty stomach bug of doom.

Deployment Curses, or Growth Opportunities, (depending on your attitude) come forth in threes.  Dare I ask “what else?” Or 2 out of 3 and I catch a break this time around?  Meanwhile, I keep adding to the ever-expanding THANK YOU fund to my neighbor.  If you have any you-are-as-close-to-an-angel-on-earth-and-are-the-BEST-neighbor-ever gift ideas, please let me know.  

Good times!