The problem with not being frantically busy/ asleep/ inebriated is that I can hear that stupid voice inside my head. Don't worry. It isn't that kind of voice. This voice nags me. It makes me doubt decisions that I made months ago that I cannot change at this point. Decisions that seemed right at the time. Decisions that, for some reason, I feel compelled to revisit and second guess.
This particular time the voice was set off (unintentionally) by my husband. He mentioned one day that perhaps we should have only put NoVA assignments on our list, since (for reasons not fully understood by me) he thinks we are liable to move in two more years. GAAAAAHHHHH!
I almost put my hands over my ears and chanted "LALALALALA....I can't HEAR yooooouuuuu!" But that might have freaked out the kids, who were innocently watching Scooby Doo in the van while we drove. Good thing I fought off that urge.
But that freaking voice kicked right in. (Maybe she needs a name. My GPS has a name. That way I can yell at the GPS by name when she gets me lost or fails to predict traffic. Nah. I don't like the voice- no name for her.)
All the anxiety I had quashed (I thought) when we were selecting assignments came flooding back. Am I making the kids move for no good reason? Is moving for the Army every really a good reason? Maybe he's right! Why the hell am I letting the movers have another chance to break the few nice things they haven't broken yet? #6 knows the names of her relatives. Why am I ripping her away from them? The kids tolerate their school well. I like the people. I have great friends. Why are we moving? ARGHHH!
Deep breaths. Okay. That's better.
I had to recreate my list of "why I want to live somewhere else". Traffic. Crowds. Cost of living. Traffic. Moving now might mean #1 gets to go to one high school. And, of course, the traffic.
Being responsible for my kids' happiness and well-being can really stress me out. I can't wait for the move to just happen so I can see the other side. That it is going to be FINE. My kids will be happy there and we will make friends there (and there won't be I-95 traffic there). They will miss their relatives, but we will bond with all the other military families that aren't near their relatives either. I guess it is possible that we could move in two years. But we also might not. And I really wouldn't want to be here more than two more years. So the whole moving thing would just hang over my head then. And I'd have to deal with that little voice then.
Packers are here in two weeks. Thank God, because the sooner my stuff gets to our next house, the sooner I can set up our new life and stop worrying about what I am leaving behind here. Moving gets both harder and easier each time. I can prep for a move in my sleep, but I am getting tired of pulling up roots and recreating our life. I think I only have one or two more moves left in me, so it's good this Army road is nearing the end.
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