We’re in between again.
Do you have any idea how chaotic it is just to figure out how and what to pack for a life like this?
And there is SO much to do besides the packing.
This time it’s a whole new game. This time It’s a big leap all at once, not a back and forth, keep the house, one foot in each place deal.
This time we’re giving up our house in Texas. This time it’s Brian going home, and it’s me moving to a place I’ve only visited a few times.
Right now we’re in between. Between homes, between jobs, between nations, between cultures, between continents.
I’m in the US still, waiting for my UK spouse visa and I don’t know when (or if) I’ll get it. Based on what I was told by the border agency it should arrive within two weeks, but I have enough experience dealing with international bureaucracy to know that’s an optimistic expectation.
Either way, I’ll be moved out of this little house in about two weeks. I have a friend who is generously letting me stay with her until I fly out, so I won’t be totally homeless just yet, but I’ll definitely be in transit.
Part of me can’t wait. I’m so excited and impatient to get there!
Part of me is kicking and screaming. I’m going to miss my kids all over again, and there is so much to do in such a short time before I go.
So I breathe.
I kiss the top of my kids’ heads. I savor every minute they’re here with me. I make lists, and sell furniture and give things away. I make appointments for painters and carpet cleaners, and I send out desperate calls to my girlfriends to meet me for a girls’ night out.
And I breathe.
And I remember that we’ll get there.