Petey stood sadly looking out the front door this afternoon.

“Baughn,” was all he said.

“Vaughn’s at his Grandma’s house,” I said, trying to be upbeat.

“I didn’t say goodbye,” he said.

Peter is not yet three. I’m amazed at his grasp of the situation. Vaughn’s stuff got loaded on a truck yesterday. They are staying with family until they move on to their next assignment.

Vaughn’s mom was cleaning the house today, and she promised me the kids would be around on Monday. She, though, is scheduled to work all week. And then we’ll be gone.

And so we hugged and speculated that perhaps she wouldn’t have to go in on Thursday and then this would not really be goodbye, and then we said goodbye, for now.

And that was hard enough.

If the vet hands out free coloring books, is it wrong to hide them from the children until the long car ride so that they have something new to look at in the car?

If you have a refrigerated pie crust and a lemon and the packers come in 5 days, do you have any choice but to make lemon meringue pie?

If somebody sticks their fingers in the pie, do you throw it out?

Now that’s a silly question.

Is there any point in vacuuming out the van 8 days before the big move?

On Sunday and Monday, I excavated the children’s rooms. Now a huge stack of books awaits placement on the kid book shelf, and the landing halfway to the basement toy room is piled with toys that need to be put away. I won’t mention what else I did to their rooms as my oldest child often reads my blog, but let’s just say that Flylady would be proud.

In the last few days I have done at least a dozen loads of laundry with many more to do. I’m debating whether or not the washable curtains should be laundered before being packed.

Every time I cross something off my to-do list, I seem to add three more items.

At the doctor’s office yesterday, I saw that my blood pressure was 130/80. Normally I am about 117/65, or as Bill calls it, “Barely-alive over needs-CPR.”

I am fighting the desire to panic. I am fighting the instinct to be crabby and short-tempered. I am trying to remember to smile.

I have two children (other than my infant) who need more attention from me than usual. “Mommy, will you sit on the couch and schnuggle wif me?” I am sitting on the couch and snuggling as often as I can. I’m trying not to spend that time thinking of more things to add to my to-do list. As a distraction, I’m reading a book about how deployment affects a soldier’s family. It’s making me cry. I’m not sure this is a good distraction.

I am grateful that I do not have to pack my house. In the end, even dirty laundry will get packed. In the end, even a pile of junk will get packed. In the end, every possession will make it onto the truck and to Virginia and into the new house. The more work I do here, the easier will the transition be. But I have to balance snuggle time on the couch in Virginia with snuggle time on the couch in Kansas.

As I lie in bed every morning, I pray, “Thank you, God, for this wonderful life. Please help us to get through these weeks with patience and love.”