I talked to a good friend last night. I last saw her in June at her new house. She had been there for three months and was still slowly unpacking boxes, one at a time, putting things exactly where she thought she’d want them to be for the next decade of her anticipated residency there. It made perfect sense to me, but later I thought about it and realized that I had no such luxury. If it took me 3 months or longer to unpack, I would never have a chance to enjoy that “settled in” feeling before I needed to start weeding out accumulated stuff and getting ready for the next move.
Two weeks ago today, the truck pulled up and delivered our stuff. Two days ago, Bill hung the last curtain, and we hauled the last of the boxes from the main living areas. We’re not “done” – the swing set needs to be assembled, the basement room I’ve decided to use for school is a huge mess, and I need to set up a playroom in the basement as soon as the foam padding I ordered gets here (tomorrow). There are some boxes in my closet that I need to sort, and there is some furniture that I want to paint, but now we’re dealing with the usual, never-ending list of things that I want to do…sometime…before I die. I don’t think anyone is ever “done” – perhaps in between projects, but never “done.”
Yesterday, Bill put on his uniform for the first time in five weeks. He signed up for an in-processing slot, tried to touch base with a few contacts and came home. Rough first day back at work, huh? He headed out a bit ago to go to his in-processing appointment, and will be home by lunch time, and he just may be done at that point. In-processing is expected to take up to two whole days, but he’s already done a number of the things covered: get our cars registered on post, get the dog in the on-post vet’s system, transfer all our health insurance information to this different regional system. Once he’s done with all of that, he’ll be free to do whatever he wants (within the local area) until August 7th when he needs to pick up his school books.
I’m enjoying every minute of his time off work, but I think he’s ready to get back to a normal routine. I think perhaps the Army is less demanding than I am. On Monday afternoon, Billy asked him what his plans were, and he said he was hanging curtains, “because Mommy loves curtains, and hates Daddy.” Actually, Mommy loves curtains, and hates the old, yellowed and patched roll-up shades covering every window in this house. And Daddy just happens to be a superb curtain hanger, using fancy tools like a level and a tape measure to get things just right. I prefer to eyeball it, and really don’t care if the left side is a quarter inch lower than the left, since I can’t see up that high anyway.
And I won’t be living here for a decade.
And now on to establishing new routines, new habits, new schedules. Which will last approximately 3 months when the new baby will decide that the whole known universe needs to conform to his/her preferred way of doing things. I think our big goal this year will be focusing on working independently.