lonely

This post is not meant to be maudlin. It's just that I'm, well, lonely. Moving every three years has its advantages but the loneliness is one aspect which is impossible to get used to. The girls keep me occupied, but I can't really have a chat over coffee with them, or ask them to be a part of my book club, or ask them to help me decide between the black and fuchsia Dooney & Burke and polka dotty Le Sportsac casual purses upon which I have my eye. I can't really do these things with Mr. BikeMan, either. As to coffee, he's off at work. As to book club, my tastes run one way: eastward "across The Pond" - Austen, Gaskell, even Jasper Fforde, etc...; his run straight towards post-apocalyptic, dystopic fiction. And as for the purse discussion, the answer would be in the form of a question (like Jeopardy), "don't you already have a purse?"

So, you frequent movers, how do you find friends? I don't want to come across as that needy nut who grabs at friendship, but on the other hand, I can't just sit back like a wall flower and wait for the suitors to come and ask me to dance, either...

please Lord, give me some ambition...

59 days and counting to our move from the Brown Desert to Urban Sprawl and Eastern Green.

I have closets to clean, drawers to empty, toys to sort through, and...NO AMBITION. I wonder, honestly, if I'm just a bit depressed about the whole thing. It's normal, I suppose. Please friends, would you pray that I would have some ambition!? (I'm NOT being facetious...).

I've all but put school on hold for now. Ingy is reading like a champ, and I'm confident that she'll hit 1st grade with a great leg-up, whether it be in a formal school setting, or continuing to home school. My sole Kinder goal was to have her reading reasonably well. Math, writing, formal crafts all happened along the way, but they weren't part of the end-goal. So I'm encouraged to have met that one milestone.

countdown to the big move

It's almost here again - the dreaded/wished-for 3 year mark. Military families will understand this sentiment - I start to feel itchy around 2 1/2 years after we've been somewhere. I'm a little nervous - it's a general sense of apprehension more than anything else.

This move is Eastward (let's keep it general...); for the first time, we have not been posted west of the Mississippi. We'll be almost as far from our families as one can be in the continental US, and our parents are aging. This move means a 5 hour (minimum) airplane ride back home to Seattle.

This move is causing a keen sense of loss to our girls. Last time we moved, they were clueless -- it was just a big adventure and meant new toys for the car ride (though they did feel sad about leaving their friends).

This move, Ingy Badingy will be starting first grade in the fall (we are considering public school this time rather than homeschooling - another source of apprehension for me).

This move, we own a home -- and we have to rent it out.

This move, we are renting a U-Haul for our nicest furniture -- we don't want to see a repeat of our last military move. The movers treated our (nice) stuff like garbage.

This move will mean separate vehicles for Mr. and Me. He will take charge of the U-Haul, while pulling one car, and I will drive the wagon with the girls -- with a movie player and large library of DVDs ready -- for my sanity's sake.

It gets harder every time, although I will not miss the heat, dust and desert creepy crawlers.

So, as of today, it's 63 days and counting. Off to clean another closet.