because moving stinks

I’m such a big liar. This whole moving to Vegas business isn’t what I am telling myself it is.

I am a seriously flawed glass half-fuller. So far this week I’ve convinced myself that I love my tiny house and having a swimming pool is the greatest thing ever. But on day five my kids are literally trying to kill each other out there during forced family swim time because we’re all so darn sick of looking at the same five faces. Apparently the pool has already lost its glow and instead of everyone jumping up to do chores so they can get in the pool, I’m now¬†threatening them with an extra hour of swimming if they don’t get with the program (not that there’s a program).

And if I hear that door open one more time with “Mom!!!” followed by mindless tattling I think I’ll go drown someone.

Yesterday I got all the kids registered in their respective schools and it was a major weight off my shoulders. Unfortunately¬†I quickly realized just how much I’ve been allowing the weight of my real life’s procrastinated responsibilities to keep me blissfully fogged to our current reality.

Here’s the low down. At the moment we are camping in an empty house with one lonely couch, two card tables and 8 chairs. We have three air mattresses and a TV. We don’t have our furniture, our photos, our beds or our toys. There is no dusting to do, no piano for the kids to pound on, and if I need tape I have to run to the corner and buy some.

Home sweet home. It’s hard to feel connected when there’s nothing to sit on.

I’m trying not to think about Jason leaving us next week. I have so many dear friends who have done far longer deployments and mandatory separations, three and a half months is nothing. I just…really like him. I like having him around and even though I’m quite capable of running this team solo I have to say it’s all so much better with him here.

To all my friends moving this summer (and I know there are a lot of you) please know that you’re not alone in this wilderness of no friends and missing cars. It’s a hard process and I’m with you. Finding a good grocery store, a dry cleaner, a karate place and a dance studio. Convincing your kid to play sports in a strange city where he doesn’t know anyone is hard but in the long run it’s going to pay off.


Today I will do laundry in this house that is my home. I will mop my kitchen floor (or have a kid do it), hang up the extra clothes from my suitcase, and try not to yell about the broken appliances.

Six months and I should start feeling better.




  1. I am so glad your are (semi) settled and writing again. Things will get together, hopefully it will take 3 months instead of 6. I love your blog and I can’ t wait to read about this Vegas adventure!