Friday, May 25, 2012

No matter which way you slice it ...

... moving = exhaustion.

You try to plan ahead. You try to not leave too much for the last day. You try to make concessions. Adjust readily. Stay flexible. Think positively. Limit expectations.

Moving across the street would be one thing. Across the state another. Across the country yet another. But across the world? For the second time in two years?


Here we are, mostly moved into the Hodja. And we are just ... plain ... exhausted. We still have odds and ends at our real house. We are still making trips back and forth. It's only a few blocks, but without our van, we have to recruit friends (thank you Tina and Bri) or walk pulling a wagon (again, thank you to Bri) full of stuff.

We could rent a vehicle but there really aren't any to rent that would fit our whole family. So what's the point?

Believe it or not lodging put us in the exact same room we stayed in when we moved onto Base. Seriously. Talk about everything coming full circle. It's nearly eerie. I feel the same fog. The same dichotomy of emotions. The same fatigue.

The only differences? This time there are three children. And this time (game-time decision) there is no dog.

We were planning on having Scrubs with us. But it was actually Stebbs today who said to me, "You are a better woman than me. I'd just put Scrubs at Pati Pet instead of adding to your responsibilities."

Picture a big light bulb popping on above my blonde head. Pati Pet? Why hadn't we thought of that? It's a wonderful facility off-Base. A non-traditional kennel run by Americans. Of course! Taking Scrubs out on leash every time he needs to use the bathroom while chaperoning three tiny children is a lot. Add to that the fact that this little two bedroom is already quite tiny without an eighty pound dog, and Pati Pet it is!

In the meantime, we are settling in for about a week. The exhaustion is so thick. But thick is good because thick doesn't allow other emotions room for visitation. Early this morning I sat in Tina's van. My gardener told me how sad this all was. "You say hi. Then you say bye. Again. And again," he said. I nodded. I started crying.

But that was this morning. Before I was so tired. Now I am too tired to cry.

The kids are very out of sorts. Scrubs is really out of sorts. He has no idea what is going on. Just knows the house is getting emptier. And his people are getting crabbier. And he has no idea where he fits in. Everyone who stopped by the house was met with Scrubs jumping into their vehicle. Four different people. I kid you not. Each time, you could tell, he was wondering is this who is going to take us to our next place? If so, make sure I'm going with you!

Home stretch. But still a ways to go before we settle into a normal life again. Your prayers for stamina. Stength. Peace. Appreciated.


Anonymous said...

I'm sure you are exhausted but just think a couple weeks out when all this will be behind you.

I am so looking forward to hearing reports from the Azores.

BTW, I think your Azores clock is off. Shouldn't it be somewhere between Turkey and US time, rather than behind both of them?

Wendi Kitsteiner said...

Thanks. yes. I fixed it!

Sarah, Dan, and Peter said...

Wendi, I love this. You described this craziness perfectly. I feel the same way! I'm so glad we're doing it together! : )