The Next Chapter

It’s almost time to turn the page, and begin the next chapter in our lives. My husband has decided not to re-enlist, but to separate from the Marine Corps. The thing about starting new chapters is, all the thrilling action in the preceding pages that makes us both look forward to and dread our next steps. Everything that could possibly happen in the last six weeks, seems to have happened.

I’m not going to bore you with details, but, long story short, Mama’s so stressed the dogs are shedding, and have stopped eating. The kids are acting out, and not sleeping. And my husband is complaining that I don’t like him (which is a polite way to say that I won’t let him touch me). Whoever wrote, “When Mama aint’ happy, ain’t nobody happy,” knew what they were talking about. Because my whole house is walking around on pins and needles.

There is still a month left before we hook up the trailer and drive off into the noontime. Which means we are in moving limbo. “To pack or not to pack,” seems to be our motto. What do we need, and what can we live without for the next month? We want to get a head start on the packing, but also don’t want to go without or feel like we’re living in an empty house. The result so far has been a lot of half-packed boxes. Our house is definitely in the “mess before progress” stage.

Oh wait! Did I forget it’s the holidays? Thanksgiving out of town, Christmas with friends, the Battalion Christmas, Family Christmas, New Year’s. My head just started spinning again. There are meals, and baked treats, and presents. Blah, and blah, and blah!

Oh! Oh! Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh! O-H! Guess what my brilliant husband did! He scheduled a pre-move inspection for December 27th. Yup, that’s right. December 27th. Two days after Christmas! So, on top of the holiday, and family back home stress, we have to add cleaning stress!

Let the nervous breakdown commence ...

By the way, if you know of someone in the Cherokee, Iowa, area that has a three bedroom, two bath rental that doesn’t mind dogs, please, let me know. We might need a place to live when we get there. Ugh.

Passport to Iowa?

I’m in Iowa for a week. I came home for a gigantic celebration at the Buddhist Temple that my parents are a large part of. The Asians have taken over Storm Lake, even more so than usual. It’s crazy Asian up in here.

I forgot what it was like to be in Iowa. As in, I forgot about “the smell of money.” I thought I was gonna die on the drive home from the airport. Once we got off a major highway, I was bombarded with a plethora of smells. Turkeys. Hogs. Beef. Chicken. Thank goodness we drove home in the middle of the night. I was able to bypass the stink during the hottest hours of the day. I threw up a little in my mouth, just thinking about it. Ew.

I am also a grown woman back in my mother’s home. I have not spent more than three days at my mother’s house in the last three years. This is so weird. Her house is not my own. My mother did not buy her current home until after I had already moved out on my own. So, I can’t really consider this coming “home,” either. The feeling is immensely weird. I pray that nothing ever happens to my marriage, because I don’t think I could ever move into this house, no matter how short the period of time. This place is just too weird.

Some of the members of our family are meeting Miss Abigail for the first time ever. Poor thing, she is Daddy’s little girl, and with him gone, she has literally attached herself to Mommy’s butt for the last five months. It has been an experience to try to get her to open up to all her aunts, uncles, and cousins. She has run screaming in between my legs at every occasion. Only slightly uncomfortable. There is one person she likes, though. Uncle Inpane. There’s something about that guy. He is the favorite relative of all my girls. They see him and automatically think to jump on his back and shriek, “giddyup, Uncle Inpane!” I love it! Grandma Tia’s just a little jealous.

Grandma has been spending almost all of her time at the Temple, unfortunately. They’re here, and my children still miss their Gramma. It is absolutely amazing what is going on out there. On the property, in the last couple days, a small village of tents and canopies has gone up. You can buy everything from Pho, to cheap toys, clothes, alcohol and spiritual healing. I have to admit, it is on such a large scale that I’m intimidated to be a part of it. My mother has asked me to be a “flower girl.” I don’t speak Lao, Thai or Hmong, not sure how I’m going to be getting donations from people that don’t speak English. Hmm ... I’m not sure what she was thinking, asking me, but I’m still honored to be a part of something so huge. Now, I just have to figure out where to put my phone and camera in my totally cute dress.