I feel like I could write a novel. My life in the last month has been turned over and flipped inside out and there’s so much to write. I’ll try to make it to the point so I don’t lose whatever readers I have in the process.
My husband came home from his third tour of duty in Iraq. Yay! It was really cool to see him come home this time (well, it always is) because I got to watch him walk down the steps of the plane instead of waiting for the big white bus full of other Marines to bring him home. It was a special circumstance that isn’t interesting unless you’re military. My kids were with me this time, we were finally able to grab him after about an hour and we headed out to our first meal as a family in seven months. The waiter found out where he’d just come from and comped his meal. How cool is that? That’s never happened to us before.**
On day eight of Bill being home we got some news. I had one whole week of not being completely stressed and overwhelmed before I turned around and got hit with a healthy dose of panic. Bill called on his way home from work that day and said we needed to talk. That’s never good. When I asked why, he told me not to worry, he wasn’t in trouble. I then asked if it had anything to do with moving. His answer? Yes. I got really quiet as all the muscles in my neck tightened and my ears started ringing. I couldn’t speak. He answered my question for me and told me that one of his bosses asked, “What would you think of going to Georgia?”
So here’s the thing. Bill is three and a half years away from retirement. Our housing market has crashed. I just got a raise at work. Add those things together and it equals finally being able to buy a home. We were going to do that in the spring. I have been house hunting for over two years, watching prices and locations and so on. I’ve been reconnected to friends I haven’t seen in years, I’ve built a new friendship over the course of three years and things were starting to look like they had a direction to them. Moving wasn’t part of that equation.
So guess what I did? I FREAKED OUT. I’m a little OCD so after crying and pleading and begging God to not send us I started researching. I kinda have to know what I’m getting into so I looked at schools and houses and churches and stores and restaurants and things to do and I still wasn’t happy. I mean, I’m sure Georgia is nice and all but I never wanted to live there.
The stupid Marine Corps totally ruined my reunion with my husband. Instead of being reconnected as a family and a couple and having fun I was stressing out with the news and getting stomachaches and headaches and having random panic attacks in Target.
After talking with a bunch of people and doing more research I saw that the base we’d be headed to (outside Atlanta) would be closing in 2010 and moving down to Macon. So I’d have to move not once, but twice, in a foreign state. I’m the worst military wife ever. I want to stay in one place my entire life. We’ve been in this house for five years already. Some people love to move. Guess I’m boring. I love routine. I grow deep roots. The last time the military moved us out of state it was just Bill and I and our eleven months of marriage-acquired-possessions. Now we’ve added two cats, two kids and a whole heckuva lot more stuff than would fit in a one bedroom apartment. I remember when the movers came the first time. They number your boxes. All of our possessions fit into 60 boxes. Sixty. I think I have sixty boxes of Christmas decorations now.
Well, then everything changed. Someone else had filled that spot. My husband had been telling everyone he could at work that he is married to a crazy lady who is digging her nails into her home soil and screaming curses on Uncle Sam. His monitor (the guy who decides where we go) gave us another option. The good? It’s not Georgia. The bad? It’s not here. The unknown emotion? It’s Colorado. Hm. Colorado. We drove through Colorado on our way back home after living in Virginia for a short time. Beautiful, yes. Beaches on the Pacific? None. Not good. Snow? Yep. Um…I don’t know how to live in snow. Snow is something we drive to for a day trip. Oh, and my friends and family don’t live in Colorado, they live here in San Diego. Well, most of them. And then there’s my job.
On the flip side, I’ve heard nothing negative about Colorado and those who’ve lived there say they’d go back in a heartbeat. We’d be at an Air Force base which means if we got into housing, it would actually be decent instead of the horrible housing we’ve lived in twice before while on Marine bases. It’s a 15 hour drive from here. A two or three hour plane ride. It’s for two and a half years. I’m doing my Lamaze breathing. Chanting. Putting my thumb and middle fingers together and saying, ‘ooohhhhmmmmm’ to take me to my happy place.
Housing is cheap…I mean inexpensive. Of course, I’d think that about almost anyway compared to here, I’m sure. Should we buy and then sell or rent when he retires? We have to make all new friends. And buy things like long underwear and boots and…I can hardly say it…an ice scraper for the car. And the worse thing? There is NO Ikea in the ENTIRE state of Colorado. What is that all about??
Both my kids will be in school in the fall. Leah is starting kindergarten. What in the world and I going to do during the day??? I’ve been working since 2005 at my job. I’m not used to that much free time.
What will I call my blog? Snowy Eggo? Doesn’t have the same ring to it. ‘Just trying to get back to Sandy Eggo’? ‘The stupid military moved me away from everyone I love and all I got was this blog’? I don’t now.
This post doesn’t even include all the fun stuff we’ve been doing. Guess that will have to wait for another day. If you have any insights or advice for living in Colorado, let me know.
**See? I'm so freaking out that I totally forgot that I already posted that. I swear, I'm losing brain cells and acquiring wrinkles.
It was exhausting:
We went Trick or Treating with friends:
(Bumble bee, Darth Vader, Sleeping Beauty before hair and makeup and a skeleton)
