I’m about halfway through my month-long PCS journey. (We’re moving across the country again, this time with our two little boys, and the process of selling the house, finding a new house to live in, and getting everyone there has become kind of a drawn out process.) To fill the time between leaving one place (a small desert town recently named “Satan’s Den” by a friend — not so much for any insidious activities occurring there as for the horrible weather and generally ridiculous heat) and arriving in the other, I’ve scheduled a tour of relative’s homes in the state we are leaving, since it’ll be a while before we get to see them all again. And, if I don’t spend too long with any one set of relatives, there’s a chance we might, someday, be invited back. All this has me basically living out of my trunk, calming confused little boys, and doing my best to keep their behavior at a moderate level of chaos so as not to frighten the relatives or have them too worried about the safety of their delicate possessions, carpets, drywall, etc.
Anyway, today is the first time I’ve found myself in front of a keyboard since departing Satan’s Den, and I have regretted not being able to get here to Call Sign Mommy more often. I haven’t been silent due to a lack of postable events!
My first stop has been with my parents, who stay at a cabin in the beautiful mountains all summer. I grew up in that cabin, really, and I’m so happy to have my little boys up there. But they are missing Daddy and they are confused about why we are here and haven’t gone back home, and it’s been a bit hard for all of us. Thankfully, my parents are patient and helpful — which hasn’t always been the case. Our first long visit, with Turbo almost 2, was not as successful. I suppose, when it’s been 35 years since you last spent significant time with a 2-year-old, you might forget why or how to love a being that is so messy, noisy, dangerous, unpredictable and downright illogical all of the time. But they came around. And Turbo is *mostly* a good little guy these days. There are even moments when he’s helpful. But his questions about our current situation are breaking my heart: “Mommy, is THIS our new house?” “Mommy, when can we go home?” “Mommy, when can I see my friends again?”
I’m actually at my parents “real” house alone now. I’ve come back down the hill to attend my *gasp* 20 year high school reunion. The Major is at the cabin and will come down to attend with me tonight. Since this is the first time in weeks that I’ve had a moment (let alone a whole day) to myself, I’m a little lost. And I initially told him not to hurry down to join me (thinking that I’d be reveling in the peace and quiet). But I find myself hoping he comes sooner. I think that when you spend your life catering to the near constant desires of tiny whiny people, all you really need is five minutes here and there to appreciate the silence. And after that, it starts to feel just wrong. (Although, I could certainly get used to it with some minimal effort!)
Anyway, sorry for the stream of consciousness… I didn’t have much of a plan when I sat down. The reunion should be pretty interesting tonight. Hope to see a keyboard (and you guys) again soon!