On Moving and New Houses

We've moved a lot during these past eleven years as a Navy family.  This marks move number six and also the first time we've been forced to move even though we weren't actually leaving the area.  It would figure that the first time my husband has ever received orders to stay in one place for multiple tours, our landlords would decide to sell their house.

Luckily we have wonderful friends and family who all descended upon us to make what could have been a very unpleasant situation about as good as an unexpected move across town could be.  The whole process from finding out we needed to move, to securing a new house, to actually moving in was ridiculously fast, even by military move standards.

Three weeks.

Three weeks from notice of the impending sale, to my dad and all of Chris' most muscular friends loading all our various household goods onto a rental truck and unloading them in our new home--including the new piano which I had assured my husband upon acquisition would not be a problem because the military always move us so we wouldn't have to worry about handling it ourselves.  Did I mention we have wonderful friends?

I still haven't really had time to process everything, it all happened so quickly and there was so much that needed to be done.

I loved our old house.  It was by far my favorite house of all our houses.  I loved its character, its swinging door into the kitchen, the sun room full of windows, Margaret's tiny nursery, the gas fireplace that we kept going all winter long, the one random glass doorknob, the low place in the fence where the kids would hop back and forth into the neighbor's yard to play.  It was a "Colonial" whereas our new house is a "Rambler."  I'm not sure what that is exactly, but it sure doesn't have the same historic, charming feel.

I don't want to be unfair to The Rambler, it does have many good points, not least of which is that, unlike our old home, this one has never caught fire, so that's reassuring.  We are in a much quieter area so the kids are able to roam free and ride bikes which they haven't done since we left Florida.    There's an actual garage which was very exciting for Chris.  The house has also been recently flipped so the kitchen and bathrooms are all almost brand new and the basement's been redone too so we have a nice big room to play and do school in.  It's all very new and and bright and clean.  

One of the best things about the new house is that it has been updated--and also the fact that it doesn't smell musty or like cats--which is no small feat in this area and our price range.  But I think the newness of it is also why I don't love it.  I keep thinking about this passage from West With the Night,

"The walls of my house are without memories, or secrets, or laughter.  Not enough of life has been breathed into them--their warmth is artificial, too few hands have turned the window latches, too few feet have tread the thresholds. The boards of the floor, self-conscious as youth or falsely proud as the newly rich, have not yet unlimbered enough to utter a single cordial creak.  In time they will, but not for me." 

Maybe it's the fact that we move so much that I crave a home with history and charm.  A place with quirks and hominess built in since we don't generally have time to make those ourselves.  Of course being perpetual renters means that the quirky homes I love aren't always good choices since they tend to need work and you can't redo a rental kitchen even if it begs you to.  So we compromise and go with the updated house with the lovely kitchen full of pretty finishes that nevertheless makes me crazy because it was obviously designed by a flipper and not someone who actually planned to ever cook in it.

And yes, I realize that I'm complaining because my new house is too nice and new.  I can't help it, I like little cozy old homes, and while I'm sure this little new home will feel more cozy eventually it's not quite there yet.  

On Finally Knowing

So after months and months of hardly knowing anything at all about what our next year will look like, we finally do know some things!

But I'm afraid you'll have to scroll through these completely unrelated pictures from our vacation to find out what those things are.....

 Fort Macon group photo fail.

 Only child who willingly has his picture taken refuses to make normal faces.

 That's right, he's already picking flowers for mom :)

Well during our trip we heard from Chris' detailer that we definitely have orders to go to the Pentagon in November--well as definite as orders can be until you actually have them printed off and are on your way to check out from your command, that is :)  

The detailer also said he could push the orders to December 1 to give us more than two weeks postpartum to do the big move so that was thoughtful.  Is it crazy to try to move to DC in December?  Less crazy than moving in say September--hugely pregnant by yourself with three kids?

Wherever we go, we definitely need a pile of dirt at our new place.  I have never seen children more engrossed in their play than when mine were busy on the dirt mountain/castle/fort/prison/"lego castle" (which is completely different than a regular castle in case you, like me, didn't know).

Also, a hose, we will definitely have a hose.

And a daughter, if all goes well, we will also be settling into our new place with a brand new baby girl :)

David is beyond excited and has requested a curly haired, red-headed sister but has said that a "plain regular sister" would be fine as well.  I guess I'll see what I can do.

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A Very Prestigious Award

Molly over at Molly Makes Do has ever so kindly bestowed upon me a prestigious Leibster Award--okay, it's not exactly prestigious and I'm pretty sure the rules are completely made up and there's no actual award per se, but I'll do my best not to mess this up anyway because no one has ever given me an award for blogging before--pretend or otherwise :)  

1. Where do you live? And why do you live there?

I live wherever the Navy tells me to which is currently Jacksonville, Fl.  We just put in our preference sheet for our next duty station however and we requested:

1. Yokosuka, Japan
2. Bahrain
3. Coronado, CA
4. Washington, DC
5. Millington, TN
6. Rota, Spain or Sigonella, Italy--I can't even remember now

Because we are crazy.  Actually, it's my husband that's crazy but--I'll go where he goes.  This of course means we will definitely be living in one of these places come next winter--or, you know, anywhere else the Navy feels like sending us because it's just a preference list after all.  Usually it goes something like this:  the Navy asks us where we would like to go, we tell them our preferences, they tell us how cute that is and then inform us where we will actually be going.  Which is hopefully not actually Bahrain :)

2. What are you currently watching and/or reading?

This is actually three short stories, My Uncle's Dream, Most Unfortunate and The Gambler.  If you like Dostoyevsky you'd probably like these and if you've never read him, his short stories might be a better place to begin than jumping straight into The Brother's Karamazov--although you should definitely read that too :)

I love this book and I'll probably write a whole post dedicated to it just so I can flesh out my own thoughts.  If you are interested in the history of education in our country and the liberal arts in particular this is a wonderful resource.  It's also just a collection of essays so it's easy to pick up whenever you have a minute.  

3. What kind of Catholic are you: cradle, or convert? (Or considering?)

I converted to Catholicism in college after going through the RCIA program three times, you know, just to be sure.  Mostly I tell people that my conversion was due to my reading my way into the Church, but I'm pretty sure I can trace the real beginning of my conversion to my childhood obsession with this movie:

I was sorely, sorely disappointed to find out that good little Southern Baptist girls don't get to grow up to be nuns.
 
4. Can you point to one moment or experience that made you a practicing Catholic? (Or want to be?)

As a convert, I've always been practicing, but I'm sure like many moms before me, having that first baby and realizing my responsibility for his little soul really brought my faith to a whole new seriousness level.  

5. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

I'm not sure exactly how many pairs of shoes I have, although I'm sure it's more than I need.  Really I mostly wear one pair of shoes--my Rainbow sandals--which is embarrassing and not very grown up at all.  I've had a pair continuously since I was eighteen and I generally wear them until there is literally a hole through the heal and then I grudgingly buy a replacement.  Ah, the horrors of having to break in a new pair!  Don't worry though, I also have a pair of dressy sandals for church :)

6. Are you a good dancer?

Um, no.  Once I hit the six foot mark I realized that I should probably let my dreams of a ballet career go and also that I was probably never going to have that graceful control over my limbs that other girls possessed.  Because I'm a giantess.  And also awkward.  

7. Who usually drives, you or your husband?

My husband.  Our relationship almost ended early on due to my refusal to turn on my headlights during the day.  I contended that they would turn themselves on when it was dark enough to need them.  He maintained that it was safer to have them on at all times.  It didn't end well.  Now I just let him do what he wants while I nap in the passenger seat.   

8. What's your favorite holiday and how do you celebrate it?

It may just be because it's right around the corner and I'm really excited, but I'm going to have to go with Easter.  Everything is just so joyful and blooming this time of year it's hard not to get swept away by all the loveliness and unlike Christmastime there aren't so many unrealistic holiday expectations.  This year will be our fifth annual Easter egg hunt and potluck with all of our local friends.  We like to make sure everyone has a place to be on Easter so we usually have ridiculous numbers of people over.  It's also nice to have our own egg hunt on Easter Sunday since I'm a mean mom and don't let the kids go to pre-Easter egg hunts.  It's my one Easter line in the sand.  Our confetti egg hunt is my favorite Easter tradition and I think it will only get more fun as the boys get older!  

9. Which is correct? Left or right?

Clearly the Left.

10. Do you have any scars?

Just small ones from a tonsillectomy and my emergency appendectomy that wouldn't have been an emergency if anyone had believed me when I said something was wrong and that yes, I was sure it was not miscarriage related--hello, I was a very awkward and if we're being honest, fairly unattractive thirteen.   It was another three years before I even got to the hand-holding stage.  Traumatizing.  The whole thing was just traumatizing.  

11. What's the most famous thing you've ever done? 

I wasn't sure of this answer so I googled my name to see if anything famous-y popped up.  Shocker, it didn't.  If you have to look up your name to see if you've ever done anything famous the answer is probably no.  It looks like the most famous thing I've ever done is have this blog and a distant second was to co-publish (i.e. write the abstract and intro for) an article published in the Journal of Psychoeducational Assessment which was apparently one of their fifty most frequently read articles in July 2011!  How's that for famous?  Okay, well--I did my best :)  


Now after the longest blog ramble in the history of Leibster awards I'm supposed to tag even more bloggers to participate which means I've been officially called out on my very limited amount of internet friends who I think might actually be reading this and also haven't already been tagged.  

I'm thinking Erin and Julia, and then in a desperate attempt to make my lovely sister-in-laws Kate, Elizabeth and Julia breathe life back into their blogs and maybe post pictures of my nieces and nephews in a place I will actually see them since I'm off Facebook and my sad old phone can't process text messages in the form of iphone pictures.  Or they could just play along in the comments if they can't remember how to even log into their blogs :)  

Open to Life and in the Military

**This is NOT an announcement**

John Michael is nine months old and Chris has been making fun of me for already wanting another baby.  Now, you may be on his side and agree that I am in fact a crazy lady with mostly irrational worries about my fertility, but I've been doing a lot of thinking about this and I've finally figured out the problem.

It's my countdown clock.

That's not to be confused with my biological clock--although I do already hear that one ticking loud and clear.  No, this is my "countdown to our impending move" clock and when it hit the one year mark it sent my desire to be pregnant right now into overdrive.

It's really hard to be open to life and in the military.  I mean, I know it's hard to be open to life in any number of other circumstances as well, but when you know you have to move every two years, your timing has to be just about perfect or you have me--the woman who perpetually arrives at each new town either pregnant or pregnant and alone or about to become pregnant and who has no real friends there to help and must rely mostly on the kindness of strangers or as I like to think of them, friends we just don't actually know yet.  Sometimes it feels like God is using my fertility solely as a means to give other people service opportunities.

All of that is to say, I'd really like to have a baby here where I do have friends that I've known longer than five months as opposed to there in that unknown location looming out in front of us where I most likely don't know anyone at all and could potentially be too far away for even family to come.  It doesn't help that there could be pretty much anywhere and although I'm sure it would be fine, I'd really rather not have a baby in Guam....or Japan.....or Guantanamo Bay.....not that those aren't all lovely places.....


I mean if I had a baby here I know pretty much what to expect and I may even get that much longed for baby shower (Auntie Leila says every baby should have a shower so who am I to disagree).

If I had a baby here I could be sure that I wouldn't need to worry about things like moving to our next duty location ahead of my husband--or worse having to stay behind--if I'll be too pregnant to travel when it's actually time to move.  We're about two months away from that iffy window where you don't know where or when exactly you're moving next so getting pregnant is taking a big gigantic leap of faith since you literally have no idea what the future holds except of course for the fact that it won't be happening where you currently live.

We could just wait--wait until we know exactly where we'll be going, wait until we can plan everything out, wait until everything will be perfect.  Even if we could count on the military to actually make a plan and not change it at the last possible moment, waiting for the "perfect" time to bring a new life into the world isn't really an option for us.  For one, we don't believe that that ever elusive "perfect" time really exists and, more importantly, we do know very well  that just because you want a child doesn't mean you get to have one and just because you conceive a child doesn't necessarily mean they are yours to keep.  Let's face it, if we put off having another child simply because we didn't know what the future had in store for us, John Michael would probably hold the title of  'baby of the family' indefinitely.

So my countdown clock keeps ticking and every month that passes that window of finally having a baby here and not there is shrinking and if it's making me feel a little crazy who can blame me?  I'd like to say that we've just turned our fertility over to God and that we trust in His timing--which we do in the sense that we're pretty much just winging it over here--but....well it's easier to say that than it is to actually let my own desire to control everything go and really stop worrying isn't it?

I know I should stop worrying and let the future unfold as it will, but that's not really in my nature--after all, who wouldn't want to be sure they could make more babies if they keep turning out as cute as this one?  

So, if Chris happens to mention to any of you that his lovely wife is a little bit crazier than usual, feel free to defend my honor and let him know that it's clearly not my fault--it's my countdown clock!  And also feel free to send up some prayers for me and all the other military moms out there trying to be open to life, I'm sure we could all use them :)