Mrs_America

I'm sure that in a few months my perspective will be different, but at the moment, I am plain and simple all over the place.

First move. First married quarters. First assignment, even! It's all so new and shiny and exciting and for the same reasons daunting and intimidating and at times, dead scary.

He isn't used to this. When he's moved in the past, he has had the key to the old place and the new place and a car or van and enough stuff to cram it into one and a half loads. He was the only variable, he called all the shots. This time, There's a Wife. There's a household worth of stuff. The new key and old key are not in his hand, and Germany is a bit far to drive in a day. All of the decision making process has been taken out of his hands, and adults find that frustrating. He's not sleeping. I can see it in his face when we Skype, he's a man running on empty. 'Haggard' comes to mind.

I've got the home court advantage because I have undergone many military moves before (granted with the US army). I learned all about being thorough, keeping originals and sending out duplicates, trusting no one and always being polite yet firm. I'm not stressed, except on his behalf.

Do you believe me? I almost believe me.

Fact is, even with my mother's list of procedures and checklists, even with my lifetime of moves, this is the first one that's utterly mine. My responsibility. He wasn't able to get leave to come home and oversee the packing; the movers have me and just me as a point of contact. If anything goes wrong, it's on me. If my oversight or inaction leave anything to chance, that's my mistake. I have a responsibility to him to prove I'm a capable partner for a soldier and this is my first test.

I'm not afraid of the move. I'm afraid of letting him down.

But tonight I'm a little better. I went from not knowing any facts at all, to knowing I get packed on the first, I fly on the fifth, and my things are delivered on the 8th. I suddenly know my flight schedule. I suddenly know the exact A to B logistics. That helps, a bit. It's a start. I have a finish line. Now I can see the finish line, I can pace myself. Maybe I'll even sleep tonight.

Not likely. I have so much going on and no idea what's going to happen; no hope of control. I'm stressed and strung out and not exactly party company.

I'm so wound up.

I may just explode.

I'm thrilled, I'm excited, I'm terrified, and I can't wait to be in our own home. I miss him.

I'm ready to go home.