We are in our last full month before we move...eek! I've gotten a good jump on all the things, in my opinion, and, I haven't had a panic attack yet. I consider that a win.
There is still so much to do. I have taken all the "small" things off the walls both upstairs and down and filled the holes, I even did the touch up paint already. The only wall items left are our TVs, a giant mirror that I'm waiting until the last possible second to take off the wall because I have 4 kids and I'm not stupid, a Mort Kunstler painting that we have that, again, is too expensive to risk around my heathen children, and 9 curtain rods. All of those items will be taken down the day before the movers get here (or the day of).
I have boxed all of our valuable items, or the irreplaceable items, that should they get damaged or 'lost' I'd be heartbroken about.
I've purged pretty much everything that needs to be purged at this point.
I will pack our clothes for our trek across the country the week before the movers come, pack some extra summer clothes for the POD since we'll get that first, and let the movers take the rest. Then there's the pantry and fridge items. We'll eat what we can, box what we can, and give away the rest.
I feel like I'm rocking this PCS move (it only took 4 trials to get me here, but I think I finally have this shit down). At least I did until I got a call from the Assistant Principal's office at my son's school.
I know my 8-year-old doesn't want to move. We've lived here since he was 6, which is the last sweet spot year to move I feel because they are old enough to know they are moving, and sad about friends, but the excitement and adventure are more of a draw than the letting go. This year, when my boy is a few months away from 9, and he's had three years at the same school, three years of soccer seasons, three years with the same classmates, and three years of neighborhood friends, he's heartbroken. And I am heartbroken for him.
Apparently, I didn't know just how bad he was feeling because he started acting out at school. Getting overly upset, walking out of the classroom, yelling out, getting physical with kids who were upsetting him, all culminating in a blow-up moment that had him standing up in class shouting "shut the F*** up" to his classmates earning him a trip to the principal's office and me getting a phone call.
I feel terrible. This isn't my kid. Out of my four kiddos, DJ is my sweet soul. He's my kiddo that will come up to me randomly just to give me a hug. He's my kiddo who, when he goes into his room at night to go to bed and sees his sister's blanket off her, will cover her back up before getting in his own bed. He's sweet and goofy and so nice that I'm almost worried that he's too nice. So that phone call about his behavior was not expected AT ALL. Part of the anxiety he was feeling was the black hole on the other end of our PCS journey. Where would we live? Where would he go to school? How far would we be from family this time? All of the unknowns. But, knowing he was hurting allowed us to talk about it and for him to tell us those worries. Thankfully, we were able to give him and the other kids some answers.
The biggest of those worries was where we would live. Well, we are (finally) under contract on a house in Virginia. Not having a destination is a huge boulder hanging over your head and it was difficult not being able to tell our kids we had a home. Now that we can, we can focus on how to decorate their bedrooms, the basement, and it makes moving to our new home something to look forward to instead of dread.
Another HUGE positive that we can give them, is how far we'll be from family with this move. For 5 years, we've been a 5-hour plane ride away from the majority of our family and only able to see them once or twice a year. Some, like my twin sister, I haven't seen in 2 years, which has been its own heartache to have to endure. I have a niece I haven't even met yet, as does my husband with his sister and her daughter. BUT our new home will literally be within walking distance to my sister. If I get mad at her, I can TP her house. And my mother-in-law is just around the corner. My kids are thrilled, and I am so, so, so thankful we were able to find a home in that community.
We still have a ways to go with our kiddos. They still have four weeks left until we leave and saying goodbye is never easy. This life isn't easy. We say kids are resilient, and they are, but I wish they didn't have to be. I wish there didn't have to be so much heartache and loss, so much sadness and so many goodbyes in their short years on this Earth. This move will hopefully be our last. This home will be the place where our children can finally plant some roots and make lasting friendships. My oldest will be *gulp* looking at colleges this next school year and it will be nice knowing he will know where he can come home to instead of not knowing where we would be in a few years.
As hard as these years are for my kids, I know they have also been some of the most wonderful. It may be time to say goodbye to the good friends we've made here in California, but it's also a time for hellos. Saying hello to new friends in a new neighborhood, saying hello to family close by, and saying hello to whatever comes next.
When we went under contract on the house just down the street from my sister, she sent this meme to my husband:
And his response was:
This is going to be great. I can feel it.
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