It’s almost over

Growing up military, moving is a way of life. Being uprooted every so often, usually every three years, being placed into a new home that isn’t yours, going to a new school, making new friends. You get used to it. I didn’t move as often as my siblings, I’m pretty lucky by military children standards. By the time I was nine we were placed in our forever-state; but there was moving from house to house, watching friends leave, never growing up near family, things like that. We landed in Virginia and in Virginia we stayed, it’s where my dad was needed the most. There was an acceptance, however, that there was always the possibility that he would be needed somewhere else and we would leave again.

Chris moved around more than I did and eventually he landed in Virginia and in Virginia he stayed. But for him, there were many moves, many times. Uprooted from home to home, school to school. It was a way of life. But for Chris? He doesn’t accept moving as a way of life. To him, it’s more of burden than it is to me. I hate moving, and I complain, but I understand it has to happen so I want to get it done. Once moving is locked onto my radar, it’s hard to knock it off. Chris detests it, he avoids it, he stalls and then gets overwhelmed by how much needs to be done.

It’s been a week since we started the move, and there was so much to be done. Saturday night, when my brother Steven helped up, there was a lot done, but not nearly enough. I’ve been living in between two homes for a week now and that’s what I hate. There’s where my frustration and anxiety hits hard and fast, when I don’t have all of my stuff. It’s been such a busy and long week, that we didn’t really get anything else moved either, as hard as I tried. Every night we were out running errands until way past Caitlin’s bedtime, it was unreasonable to think we could do small trips back and forth.

Yesterday, we went to the house to pick up the tv and I just broke down. I was overwhelmed by the amount of shit we have accumulated over two years. Looking through every room and seeing how much more we have to get, realizing there was an attic and an office we hadn’t even started on yet, it was hard NOT to be overwhelmed. I sat and I cried and didn’t want to leave. And so, Chris, realizing something had to be done this weekend if we had any hopes of ever getting out without losing our minds, decided it was time to rent a uHaul and just get it done, by ourselves.

This was at 2, we didn’t get home and get started until about 6. Try walking into a house you’re trying to move out of, but haven’t made much progress at 6 pm on a Saturday. If you haven’t felt frustrated or overwhelmed yet, you will then. Especially when you only have the uHaul until 4 pm the next day. Oh yea, you’ll want to cry.

It took us some time to really get started, but once we did, we were rolling. We got almost everything out, and got things I need to feel like I’m home; my dresser, my own cleaning supplies (I’m particular), and everything out of our bathroom. We also emptied out the office and attic and most of our bedroom. The only thing left at this point is some stuff in the living room and the kitchen,which hasn’t been started on, but that’s easily a half a day thing. It feels good to be finishing up, it feels good to be, mostly, in one home.

I’m not even going to lie, Chris did most of the work. He made sure to get everything I needed to make this more my home. He busted his ass getting my dresser up the stairs, by himself. I have an amazing husband who sees when I’m stressed and figures out a plan of action to fix it, to help me feel better. I’m lucky that I have a wonderful, hardworking husband. It’s times of stress and frustration you realize how reliable some people are.

I feel better knowing soon, I’ll be able to start writing every day again. Not only that, but I know it will be back to happier, more care-free stories. Thank you guys for bearing with me.


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