60 Days Until I Leave Paradise for South Dakota

Maybe 60 days.  Of course, he doesn’t have orders yet.   Only the invisible Hand of Military Assignment knows about orders, and he’s indifferent.  Who knows or cares?

Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills of South Dakota

The Handsome Hubby has a Report No Later Than Date.  The rest of the family will get there when we get there.  The good news is that I have no hard deadlines with this move.  After our one-year separation, I expect that I will do this move alone.  Or more accurately, I will do this move with the help of my military spouse tribe.

I do give kudos to the Hubby though, as he is planning on stopping here in Hawaii for 9 days to help with the move.  I, however, anticipate that getting a pack out date within his 9-day window is best case scenario.  And we know how that goes, especially for my family.  If it makes sense, then no, it won’t be.  If it is convenient, then definitely not.  Orders 60 days out?  Pfft…amateur…please.  How many days until it’s ridiculous?  That’s our MO.  “Ridiculous” is when we will get our orders and then we will jump through hoops to get it done.

What’s a few more weeks in Hawaii?  I’m not in a hurry to leave.  I want Hawaii to be my forever home.  I have loved just about everything here, and my time, experiences, and friendships have been truly awesome!  I found my way back to my love of dance, and there has been plenty of opportunity to dance – ballroom, salsa, burlesque, Bollywood, hula, hip hop.

I am currently a graduate student at UH Manoa.  No surprise here that this move to South Dakota puts a stop to my graduate studies. Or at least a major slowdown while I recalibrate and try to figure out how to make it work.   I toyed with the idea of staying in Hawaii to finish the degree program, but quickly ixnayed the idea.  Our kids are anxious to reunite the family, so another year without dad is a no go.  I do not want to be separated from my kids, so a year alone in Hawaii is a no go.   Add the financial implications of maintaining two households, and the answer becomes clear.

But not without a bit of resentment because it’s going to be “I’m cold, I’m cranky, and I’m too old for this” kind of cold in South Dakota.

Insert the positive platitudes and pep talk from the well-meaning among us: “Oh that part of the state doesn’t get as much snow because it’s in the Banana Belt.”  Yes, banana belt.  Look it up.  Please know I am smiling ever-so-politely and nodding in agreement when this is said to my face, while the Mean Voice inside my head is shouting not-so-polite things.  “Oh, what an adventure this is!”

There you have it.  I’m living this military life in one-year increments. This next assignment is for two years, supposedly.  Just like Korea was a two-year assignment, supposedly.  “Oh, what an adventure this is!”

Onward and upward…with a coat…to the Mount Rushmore State!

Aloha!

No Orders Yet!

Bureaucracy
Military Bureaucracy

I have my last few days of freedom before summer break begins and we move.

Perhaps the military will hand us another surprise and change our location…who knows?…what I do know is that we still do not have orders and thus I have no packout date. [Cue the crazy.]

This uncertainty is making me uncomfortable and anxious.

The only thing I know for certain is that the outprocessing/TMO scheduling/packing out/cleaning out the house per the lease agreement is going to be a torrential sh*tstorm when it finally descends upon us.

As I write this, we are suppose to be in Hawaii in 35 days. Clearly to the indifferent military bureaucracy, that is plenty of time to relocate military member, military family and household goods overseas. To the planning milspouse, 35 days without any concrete plans except our lease ending is nothing but severe agitation (read: bitchiness). I know I will be jumping through hoops to get my end of the deal done without penalty and on deadline.  Everything hinges on a packout date!

Meanwhile, I am going through the dwindling pantry coming up with creative menus. I am purging. I am avoiding dealing with the self-perpetuating mounds of papers. (Seriously, where does it all come from?) I’m wondering how we are going to transport our high value items that we usually partial-DITY move with a trailer.

I am manning the homefront and waiting for the hubby to get home from his extended TDY – 2 more weeks to go. I am less than amused when I receive a text that he is enjoying beer & exchanging stories with his classmates after work. Sounds so carefree & relaxing…. I am have become bitter and resentful and not sure how to let go of what I consider a very unbalanced situation. (Sanity check: I decided to dine out for dinner with the kiddos tonight.)

There is always the balancing act of living in the present and preparing for the future when dealing with the military move. Usually, I research online extensively about the next location. But this year, I have little extra brain matter and haven’t prioritized the time to research, so it will be a true adventure upon arrival, which I’m sure will make for some interesting, blissfully ignorant, situations.  We are, after all, “stuck” on an island for 2 years.

Honestly, I am trying to not get ahead of myself. I am trying to keep in together in the here and now – the last 5 weeks have been a whirlwind (Spartan Race, completed the last of the 350 hours for massage license re-certification (and still have 1 more hurdle to go!), dance recital, TKD tournament, birthday celebration, end of school year things, and EFMP/overseas medical clearance shenanigans) – and while I had grandparent reinforcements here for a few of those weeks, I have been doing this solo and my brain capacity has been maxed out. Even though I am excited for the next leg of the journey in Hawaii, we are taking it one day at a time. Just waiting impatiently for orders, so we can get on the housing list (I can’t even begin to think about schools & rentals.) and deal with TMO.  Fun, fun!

How do you handle the uncertainty of a military move?

Valerie
#getamassage