My plates over flowing and I didn't even go to the buffet

This whole move I’ve had it played it out in my head. It was to go smoothly, the house was to become this sparking clean palace where everything had a place and nothing got touched. Then I woke up and realized that it is almost next to impossible to keep this house perfect with 4 kids before the movers come. For example; my entertainment center keeps getting cleaned and yet upon waking up every morning this week it looks like everyone has just dropped their junk on it. The kitchen everyone’s supposed to use paper plates this week and yet there are dishes in the sink from last night waiting to be washed. Hmmm I hope these movers have seen worse when they get here. Because I am on the verge of crying, locking the door, hog tying the kids and bombing the place. It’s not messy, it’s just disorganized. And the disorganization is driving me batty since it doesn’t match up to the ideal image I had in my head. Secret though… my ideas are ALWAYS grander in my head then in real life. In my head I have obedient children who sit with their hands clasped, mouths shut, smiles on their face and respond “yes mother dear”. What? A mother can dream can’t she? lol

Tomorrow is the day. The movers will pack us up. We’ll be sleeping bag it for 4 nights and then hit the road. I will apologize now for the random sporadic posts starting with this one till we get to Kentucky. Another grand plan in my head was to do entries on the drive and post them as we go; but let’s be honest. If I’m already on the verge of shaving my head then head into hiding before I’ve even hit the road with the kids and pets; do you really think I am going to be sane enough to do entries?  Although, maybe it will keep me sane enough to not leave a kid behind and create a new Joe Dirt in the world.

I started typing this post about 4 hours ago. Since then I have completely forgot about it and now resemble a drown rat after loading the truck up for a dump run. In the process I received a lovely red note from the water company, my slumlord hasn’t paid the water bill so it’s being shut off tomorrow. The moving company called and they have decided upon themselves to pack and load up tomorrow rather then tomorrow and Monday. U-Haul called and informed me they don’t have 4x8” trailers even though I have a reservation for one, I am now having to drive 15 miles out to get the 6x12 on Saturday. I went from a small trailer to a flipping HUGE one. I still have to get AAA, oil change, 2 dump runs, clean the house, buy tie down straps for the dog crate, get the dog’s meds for the drive. GAAH!!!

Ohh and let’s not forget that the in-law drama has escalated to the point of my younger BIL and SIL plus my FIL are now camping out in the trailer next to my house. I won’t even touch that issue with a 10 foot pole.

I went from having 5 days at the beginning of this post to now 3 days.  BREATHE, that’s all I can keep reminding myself, just BREATHE. In the end I will look back on the chaos and laugh. 

I am going to apologize now if any posts for the next week are hit and miss and if I don't respond to comments. 

The move has allowed for a hijack of my immunity

It’s safe to say I am over this move; completely over it. If I could I would pack up the truck right now and get on the road. I really only less than 2 weeks now but it’s killing me. I took down all the pictures, calendars, posters, etc off the walls yesterday. Sitting here staring at the blank walls I wish I hadn’t. I should have waited till the night before the movers came. The blank walls are harassing me, almost teasing me to a point.

My “trailer”. It’s okay you can laugh. I couldn’t comprehend how big a 4’ x 8’ trailer was and how much I could fit into it. So I made my own.

I even had a wonderful helper. Although she was a tad bit lazy making me move all the boxes while she yelled and growled directions.

I spent more than a better part of yesterday playing phone tag. The Man said finance in KY told him that TMO at Ft. Lewis would start the advance. I called TMO. To start with the girl was rude as can be. Kept telling me to contact my CO. Hmmm news flash sweetheart I don’t have one and if you stopped cutting me off you’d know that. Finally told to call finance at Ft. Lewis, so I did. The guy there said he can’t help call TMO back. I called, and called, and called some more. Spoke to 2 different people who gave me 2 completely different answers. I finally gave up for the day because my head was starting to spin. I will be tackling this again today. I NEED that advance to get the u-haul and get hotel rooms on the way out there.

Which reminds me; I still need to plot our drive. On paper and in my head it should take me 3.5 days. Realistically driving with a 1 year old, potty training 3 yr old, pea size bladder 8 yr old, miss know it all who will be texting nonstop 11 yr old, a neurotic dog, and 2 paranoid cats it will be more like 10 years. As much as I’d love to make stops and visit, I have this terrible image of being broadcasted on CNN.com’s Nancy Grace as she tears me to shreds for leaving a kid behind. Therefore I’ve crossed off seeing the “Biggest Ball of Yarn” or “The largest collection of toe jam”. I know you are all just as devastated as the kids; actually I think ‘Tater may have given herself whip lash when I kept moping about it.

This cold that Princess and Monkey have sent my way is slowly creeping into my body and killing me. I feel my insides turning to mush, my brain is slowly being devoured. I can’t remember where I put things, or even if I am supposed to get out of bed. My sinuses resemble the little alien guy in the chestbuster scene from Aliens. The throat is on fire worse than Southern California fire season. Okay MINOR over exaggeration but still I’m sick with no one to take care of me. Wait rewind, Princess did but she rubs her snot bubbles on me as she growls when leaning in for a kiss.

I honestly had one more paragraph I wanted to ramble about. BUT I got caught up into watching Behind the Rose on 20/20 about the behind the scenes of The Bachelor. It was 2 hours, 2 hours too long and yet I couldn’t turn it off no matter how hard I tried.


Okay it's bugging me, I need to know. What's the proper way to respond to comments? I normally just respond to them via email. But then I wondered, am I being intrusive to people's inboxes and invading their privacy?

The countdown has officially started today for the move.

I have so much information swarming around in my head right now I can’t think straight. I can’t even focus on junk television right now if I tried. Instead I finally put my feet up, turned the light off and am typing to you in the dark except for the brightness of the monitor, which I turned down greatly. I am so close to snapping. I want to throw myself on the floor kicking and screaming. I have sucha small smigheon of hope that I am hanging on to it. That if I kick and scream, say I’m not doing this, that President Obama will snap his fingers and 2 major things in my life. 1. He’ll allow for The Man to come home and not go negative on his leave to help me drive with the kids and 2. He’ll move the Grand Canyon north for me to see it because he’d hate for me, the who is supposed to be strong, to miss the canyon for 3 different attempts.

Where to start with, hmm…

 I had to call around to a couple different places before finding the right office. on who to set up a move from HOR with him gone. Printed the papers a million times, signed, read, reread, triple reread and fax them off to her. I get a call 2 hours later as I’m pulling into our driveway that I’m missing a form. Tear the house apart looking for it and decide to fax on Thursday. Thursday gets here and I take the kids to the UPS store. Only place in town where the awesome shop owner never ever charges me for anything. Sit in the rain for him to open, to which he did 20 minutes early just for me. I love that old guy! Go back home and get to work sorting through things. Call the Transportation Management Office (TMO) to make sure all the forms are received and confirm packing dates. Upon this conversation the lady is kind enough to look up our move up here last year to check on weights. Some how we went over by 250lbs. How that happened I have NO clue. Start panic attack #1858w35738 for the week.

It is decided and that I will do a partial DITY move (have to remember to fax more papers to them today), reserved a small trailer for the truck, and need to start packing up all the clothes in the house as I will be taking all clothes, linen, kids’ toys, camping gear, and MAYBE a tv or 2, dog igloo, food, and whatever else I can think of to get us under to move with. Sadly I already purged the house before we moved up here. I can’t get rid of anything else.

Aww; to answer everyone’s questions about living off post; I have looked into it. Unfortunately the cost for a 4 bedroom out in town is going to run us about $400 over the housing allowance we receive, plus the cost of utilities. That is just too much for us right now since we are a 1 truck family and we desperately need 2. I’d much rather continue living in a 3 bedroom for a year or so if it means getting the kids back on streets that have children around them; not having to worry about the rental being foreclosed on (been dealing with that stress for the past 5 months); and getting us a bigger vehicle that will accommodate this large family a little better then my truck.

In the end I have to take the good with the bad. Nothing is ever greener on the other side. Sure it will look it but once over there I’ll find my own set of problems. And thus the vicious cycle continues of wanting to jump the fence. I know what needs to be done, I will get it done, until then the mini panic attacks will come and go until I’m on the road and realizing that the puzzle pieces are fitting together and the stress was unneeded.

With that said, I have less than 3 weeks left here till I leave to go reunite our family with the man I love so much.

Sometimes it's hard to find the golden lining in things

Every time I think things are going smooth I run into what some will call a hiccup. Sadly though, what is a hiccup to you or someone else is like the Grand Nile to me. I try very hard to not over react or let myself obsess over it but I can’t stop it. I can’t think and process first, instead as childish as it seems, I freak out cry and then when it’s processed I think it through. During my "freak-outs" I honestly can't see a single positive thing around me. The panic I feel within is just so incredibly unreal at times. It’s annoying. It’s embarrassing. But even with going to therapy it’s the one thing I can’t get rid of without going back on meds. And really I’ve learned to deal with it and make adjustments for it so why should I go back on medicine just to fix one thing when everything else has been fixed and put into place.

With that said, I was finally able to get a hold of the housing lady at the new base post (must remember the Army calls it post where as we called it base in the Navy). I do not know what got into my head that it would quick and easy to get into a 4 or 5 bedroom house. I really don’t. I remember the wait time for one in San Diego took almost 10 months to get into. The housing lady burst my bubble today by informing me that the wait for a 4 or 5 bedrooms would be 12 to 24 months. I about had a heart attack. She offered to put us on a wait list for a 3 bedroom that will only be from 5 to 6 weeks approximately.  I am trying not to find negatives on this. Trying. Very. Very. Hard. We are currently living in a 3 bedroom; the boys are at each other’s throats having to share a room. ‘Tater has her own room. And I know this sounds absolutely horrible. I’m sure someone will shake their head and say I’m wrong. With that I gave up my walk in closet to Princess. It has a window, not huge but enough to let the sun shine and give her fresh air. She has half the closet for her and the closet has a heater. It’s not the “ideal” spot but really at a year old she only uses her room to sleep. I know, horrible. I feel guilty about it all the time. Originally she was supposed to only be there for a couple months till she finally started sleeping through the night and wouldn’t wake ‘Tater up. She has been sleeping through the night for 3 months and I still haven’t moved her. I like her being super close to me and that I can get her if I need to. When we move she will have to move to share with ‘Tater though. Looking on the housing list, the 3 bedrooms have only 1 baths. ONE bathroom. That makes me want to run and hide. I can’t imagine sharing a bathroom with everyone. These kids are horrible, always hogging the hot water, the toilet forcing me to potty dance outside because right now we have 2 bathrooms and they take both of them from me.  

I just have to keep reminding myself that in the grand scheme of things; it doesn’t matter what size house we live in as long as we are together. We will manage and tough it out because being cramped is a minor inconvenience to the kids seeing their daddy every day and me getting his kisses. We will survive it and the minute it’s possible, we’re going on the 4 bedroom wait list next year and get into them.

Now if I could just get the lady who 1. Couldn’t remember my last name to save a life while on the phone with her, 2. Couldn’t get The Man’s social right to save another life and then 3. Can’t return phone calls to save my dog; to answer some more questions I had about their housing, I’d be smiling and moving right along with this move. 

Walking to purchase regrets to exhusbands to the Wicked Witch

Last Wednesday I posted a picture of a new chapter in our lives with the Princess. She literally “walked” for about a day, since then she has been speed racing throughout the house. She reminds me of Forrest Gump in a way. Remember the scene where Forrest Gump is running away from the mean boys on the dirt road and they do a progression shot showing his legs from hobbling with braces, to them breaking off, to full grown legs? That’s how I feel with her and before I know she will be running around the house with me yelling behind her “Don’t run”.  It’s such a bittersweet moment of life. We as parents always are eager for the next stage in development, if there is actually a parent out there who doesn’t look forward then I’m sorry just haven’t met one yet. We push and anticipate for the next stage, then it happens and we are left feeling sad. Almost like the “empty nest” syndrome, longing for the rewind button to go back.  Yesterday The Man was able to see her walk via webcam! It was so awesome, she kept yelling at him and clapping. Too bad we couldn’t hear each other, another thing on my list to fix; my laptop.

I have to adjust my level of awareness with her now. It’s been a learning curve with her. Monkey learned the hard way to not leave his food unattended on the table. Otherwise Princess will give herself a bath in frosted corn flakes and ice cold milk. She can now climb the baby gate as well when it’s blocking her path to the endless supply of “baby yummies” aka the dog food. I have yet to understand the kids desire to eat dog food. It’s nasty. I also discovered that the incense oil that has been on my window sill for the last year is no longer safe. Along with when spilled on said window sill that the paint will bubble AND the wall will forever smell of spiced pumpkin. I liked the smell for the first 5 minutes, now I refuse to sit in the recliner near the wall. It’s over powering and just horrible. Another scent that I truly don’t know what was going through my head when I bought it thinking “oh it smells lovely”. Yeah it did, IN the store. Everything is always better in the store! Then you get home with it and it’s not even close to what you thought it would be. Just like buying clothes. They make you look super skinny and flattering in the dressing room, get home and you look like a huge balloon puppet. But ya already threw the tags away and now you’re stuck with it.

As you can probably see my mind is FAR from staying on track today. I have so much swimming around up there. I need some nets to corner it all so I can pick which one I want to deal with. I want to start moving, but I can’t till the ex-husband agrees. I have sent him two emails both with revised visitation plan that will work out in his favor but of course I won’t hear from him till it’s on his time schedule. I really am trying to grow past being so angry with him, I mean shoot we’ve been divorced for 6 years now; but honestly he is the ONE person in my life who brings me to the point of going to jail for life. It’s a constant struggle to keep growing up with him. I. Am. Trying. That’s really all I can say about that. I just have to wait it out, until then I can’t plan anything. I feel like a boat stuck in the middle of a lake, The Man on the shore calling me to hurry and come over but I can’t because I’m waiting for the other oar to row and my ex has that oar. *insert foot tapping and labored breathing* Enough of that subject before I have a heart attack.

Maybe I should make Tuesdays my ramble days, wherever the thought river flows you go. I kinda like that idea. Why yes, yes I do. and in the midst of this thinking I just burnt my tongue on my coffee. I can feel my taste buds curling up, whithering away, like the Wicked Witch as she's melting. I have GOT to get a handle on my thoughts today.