Tag Archives: moving

Delayed.

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I can’t believe I’ve been away from my blog for so long. Especially since I started this blog in January 2011 after learning my family and I were going overseas to live for 3 years. Since then I’ve shared posts about military life, creating a home, my world as a mother and various moments in my life. However, when it came down to the actual move and our transition to life in Madrid, I found myself unable to write about my experience. Not knowing where to start, I probably would have just set aside this blog if it wasn’t for my dear friend, Katie of NNY Life, a fellow writer and very missed friend from New York. Through her help, I realized how much I miss writing and how this blog is more necessary then ever.

In the beginning, the Army was sending us to Portugal and I was incredibly excited by the opportunity. Tom and I had been trying to get an overseas assignment for over 10 years and it seemed the Army Gods finally decided to smile upon us. However, in a few months the Army changed it’s mind and we learned our orders were on hold and we were going to Madrid.

This wasn’t welcome news. My family and I love coastal living and we had spent hours combing through information and photographs about Lisbon. We found schools, neighborhoods, a playgroup and even made a list of places we must visit in those early months. While Madrid is certainly a unique European city and a popular tourist destination, it just didn’t feel right to me. I was disappointed and for the first time in my husband’s career, I asked him to seek a different assignment. Others thought I was insane and part of me thought I was too. I started spouting off all the incredible opportunities my family would have in Madrid and I always nodded encouragingly when others commented on how excited I must be to move to such an exotic city.

But I was right. Madrid has been a hard transition, one difficult to share since so much of my experience is still fresh and even ongoing. When we arrived we had a car service take us to an apartment we rented in the city of Madrid. On paper it seemed ideally situated: minutes from the metro, within walking distance to amazing sites in the city, and in what was described as a vibrant part of the city, Chueca. The apartment was modern and beautiful, with two bedrooms and a kitchen that possibly prevented the starvation of my little family. Unfortunately, I also arrived three months pregnant and incredibly sick. Nausea followed me everywhere and a month of living with family and traveling back and forth across the United States had not helped. I was grouchy, exhausted, and frustrated, but I kept on pushing through everything, determined to make Madrid wonderful.

Our street in Madrid.

Only this time my methods weren’t working. Even though we lived within walking distance of some of the most loved parts of the city, I could not find anything to connect with, something vital when constantly moving. To start with, Chueca, while a great neighborhood to visit, is not the best to place for a young family used to their beautiful Northern New York home with a sprawling backyard. Restaurants and bars were everywhere and drunken shouts and laughter drifted through our windows until nearly 4:00 am. I was sick from the moment I woke until the moment I fell asleep and found myself constantly up and down with Regan who was restless and waking more than ever. Seeking relief, I would throw open my windows to the smell of pee, garbage, and stale cooking. I dreaded leaving the apartment, but I couldn’t hunker down. I had two girls and a husband wanting to get out and a family to feed. We wandered the city, visiting some of the more beautiful sites and walking the streets, but so much was forced for me. Our long metro rides to and from Tom’s work were exhausting and almost impossible with my nausea and two little girls. But I did it. Looking back, I probably should have just sat down and cried (and I did a couple of times, after sending Tom and the girls out to find something for dinner). It may not have helped, but I would have felt much better.

Meals became one of the biggest obstacles our family faced. I was sick and cooking made me gag, so I hoped to use the extra money we received for food to eat out as much as possible. Before moving to Spain, I read about restaurants closing at 4:30 pm and not opening again until 8 or 9 at night, but I thought it was a few select restaurants. I was mistaken, as we discovered our first evening in Spain. We explored the streets, searching for somewhere to eat, but found nothing available except bars and I wasn’t taking my girls and my pregnant belly into a bar. So we ended up with sandwiches from Starbucks. Only they weren’t that delicious…hmm, I thought. That’s odd. Everything in Spain is supposed to be delicious, right? Even Starbuck’s food. Except that it wasn’t. After several expensive meals of wasted food and even tears from my little girls, we realized it was best to feed everyone at home, shopping from the little grocery and market (Mercado) around the corner. So pushing down the vomit in the back of my throat, I cooked everyday and thanked the idea fairy that had me throw that jar of peanut butter into my suitcase the day before flying.

(In all fairness, we did find a little cafe/deli/take away next door to our apartment that offered tasty sandwiches, salads, and desserts. The owner had lived in Boston for 26 years…so maybe that explains the appeal of his food. Many times Tom would go over and get food for the two of us while I put the girls to bed then crashed in a nauseous heap on our own bed.The owner loved seeing Tom walk through the door and often sent him home with free, fresh, icy lemonade for me and custard for the girls. We will happily visit Diurno cafe for some sandwiches and fresh smoothies every time we’re in the area.)

The truth is that I have yet to become comfortable in Spain. We have seen some beautiful places, walked down amazing streets, and splashed on a pristine beach. And while I’ve captured those moments on camera and tried to write about them, it all felt fake without the truth about how I’m feeling about Spain right now. I have met some interesting, caring people to include the Kenyan man selling papers outside our grocery in Chueca, our apartment building manager who absolutely adored the girls, and the many established American’s who’ve made this transition a little easier. E and R both love their schools and Tom is getting settled at work and taking to Spain far better than I am. Still, I don’t feel comfortable. This is not common for me. I have moved 17 times in my adult life and this is my 14th with Tom. I know what to do to make a new home. I have a method, a way of throwing myself into a community, but it is really difficult here; I cannot manage to overcome this slump. Maybe it is because I miss the little life we made for ourselves in Northern New York so much, maybe it is because I made that fateful decision to study German in high school and French in college (both of which I speak very, very poorly), or maybe I just have the wrong attitude about the whole experience, but I’m trying. I swear.

And I’ll continue to try to make a little home here…maybe blogging about our adventures and some of the more hilarious moments will make me feel better about our experience. So check back next week as I share our last days in the United States and our first two months in Spain. I obviously failed at this, but hope to make it up soon! I hope that some of my readers can learn something from my experience and maybe make some better decisions (like yes, take advantage of the free version of Rosetta Stone offered by the military and learn some of your host country’s native language), but I also hope that I find some assurance that I simply did the best I could.

Moving, Phase 3

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I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve been blogging quite a bit less lately. So much has gone on the past several weeks: soccer, school, sick kids, sleep issues (still), even dealing with bullies (yes, I’m diverse…and tough)!

But the biggest time suck by far has been the craziness of an overseas move. The good news? I have successfully completed phase 1, Get Moving and phase 2, Schedule Everything. We’ve cleaned and scrubbed and sorted everything and everyone in the house. We scheduled every appointment we could possibly need, crossed major chunks of necessities off our list, and even sorted what we’re going to do with our animals.

We’re now in the roughest phase, phase 3:

Begin to say good-bye.

This isn’t a simple wave and exchange of email addresses. This involves slowly separating ourselves from our home, spending time with people we care about, visiting favorite places and scarfing down all our favorite, regional foods. How to do this?

1. Plan all out-of-state travel.

Book tickets, coordinate dates, make sure you’ll see those important people who you might not see for several months (or years, for that matter). For my family, that means planning time in Pittsburgh with my in-laws and a trip to Arizona to visit my family. Since my family, our stuff, and our car is leaving from the east coast, my Pittsburgh relatives will see a bit more of us. (We have a car to deliver to New Jersey, recovery from packers and interstate travel, etc. I promise if we were going to Hawaii, Alaska, or Asia, we would definitely hang out in Arizona much longer!)

Nomadic Tip: Book all air travel well in advance, researching multiple sites. If you wait too long and prices are looking scary, hold off until right before your trip and snag a last-minute trip. Always try to fly on Tuesday or Wednesday, the least busy (and cheapest) days of the week. The most expensive time to purchase tickets is 30-10 days out from a trip.

2. Pick a date to leave town.

Once you plan your out-of-state visits, you have to choose a date to leave your community. It’s rough. Every time someone asks you “So, when are you leaving? Are you getting close?” you’ll cringe a bit when you answer (especially if the person asking is someone you’ll really miss). This is essential though. We have many friends here and this good-bye will be rough. We need to pace ourselves!

Nomadic Tip: Remember to leave a day or two after the movers are all done packing to recover before leaving town. You’ll need it before setting out on the next leg of your journey.

3. Plan your goodbyes.

It can be especially hard for children to say goodbye to their friends. Some special time, even if it’s a few hours at a playground, can make that easier. Gifts are certainly not necessary, but a picture of those you care about can make a difference. When a good friend left this past winter, she planned an early birthday party for her daughter. Our children were able to make t-shirts with everyone’s handprints on them (dipped in fast-drying fabric paint and labeled with a fabric marker) and had plenty of playtime. Cake, memorable craft, and play…perfect.

For adults, a lunch with a good friend, a small get together at your house, or even the time for a real phone call (yes, actually speaking instead of sending 76 text messages or an ongoing Facebook message) is all you need. It really is just enough to say good-bye without drawing out the memories and tears. Make sure you have phone, mail, and email addresses!

Nomadic Tip: Search for “free printable business cards” like these at How About Orange. Include your email address and any other information you have available. Have them ready to hand out to friends.

4. Take time off.

You and everyone in your family needs time off from goodbyes, cleaning, sorting, and running errands. Take a weekend off, I promise you will miraculously crunch everything into your remaining time. If taking a break before you’re all ready to go stresses you out, get things done and relax until the movers come. I promise this second option only works for a small portion of the population. If you aren’t naturally organized, don’t shoot for it. Plan that relaxation time in the middle of your preparation.

Nomadic Tip: Use this time off to relax in your home and visit some local, nearby favorite sites and restaurants. Stay close to home so you have plenty of downtime, don’t do too much!

I’m ready for number 4, taking some time off. I can’t wait to get there…I’m really wishing I had Samantha’s wiggly nose.

Nomadic Essential: How To Dispose of Old Paint

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One of my favorite movies is a comedy starring Chevy Chase, Funny Farm. I have often thought of this movie while working on our home (as well as another favorite, Money Pit). One of my favorite quotes comes from quirky Sheriff Ledbetter, “Remember Mrs. Farmer. Whenever you buy a house, whatever’s in the ground belongs to you – whether its gold or oil…or Claude Musselman.”

In our case, gold or oil or 65 cans of paint. Yes, we had 65 cans of paint, stain, polyurethane, and primer in our basement. I’ve been so angry about this paint, but I knew that it was my responsibility now and I wasn’t about to leave that around for a tenant’s child to get into or pass them off to a less environmentally responsible homeowner. As homeowners (or those who dwell in homes), we have a responsibility to our community and those who enjoy our homes after we move on. When preparing for a move, clearing your home of all debris, recyclables, and toxins is necessary. It is even more necessary to do so responsibly. Since most of us purchase paint our homes, I thought this was a process I would share.

We moved the cans to the garage long ago, I didn’t want them around our children. Since Tuesday was the last day of our dumpster, I took the time to deal with the 51 cans of paint remaining after recycling 14 empty or nearly empty cans. –As an aside, if a can is empty or just has a small amount (less than 1 inch) remaining, leave the lid off in a safe, ventilated area to dry the contents of the can, then dispose of properly in accordance with your city’s guidelines (we were able to recycle the cans).–

Tools Needed:

  • absorbent material: kitty litter, shredded newspaper, etc.
  • thick, strong plastic garbage bags.
  • paint can opener
  • several paint sticks (or old wooden spoons)
  • face mask (not joking, I wish I had one)

Our absorbent material of choice, “Valu Time Cat Litter” in an awesome orange bag. I used two bags.

After putting my youngest to bed, opening the garage, and arming myself with the proper tools, I faced the cans of paint. I went in thinking we had 27 cans of paint. I was wrong. Very wrong.

Most of the mix labels were missing from these cans, but the oldest paint I could date was from February 2002. I started making a group of them on our garage floor and prying the lids off. What a mess. I use low or no VOC paint. With the exception of a couple of Olympic paints, these were not low-VOC. The variety of harsh fumes from nearly 10 year-old paint, stain, primer and poly were pretty astounding. This is when I wish I had a face mask.

These cans are actually from my third group of cans. Notice the gloppy grossness? Also, the near full cans of paint? What a waste. Sad actually.

Next, I emptied a guesstimate amount of kitty litter into each can. You will need enough to absorb the liquid in the paint. If it is really old paint, it may be solid on the bottom with liquid on the top. This makes it more difficult to mix. Some of the cans were so full, I emptied liquid into near empty cans, for mixing purposes.

Here is litter waiting for mixing in my first group of cans. It isn’t exact, but just keep mixing until you end up with all the liquid trapped in your material and it is the consistency of really thick, clumpy oatmeal or really wet sand.

Here’s a nice close up of the consistency. It should be thick enough that no liquid seeps out.

Next, if it is acceptable with your local sanitation department, empty the contents of the cans into thick, plastic bags and recycle the cans. My sanitation department did not want to accept the cans (apparently the cans I recycled before were OK since the cans were completely empty, but there was concern over contamination), so I complied and, gulp, bagged up all these cans and added six large bags of trash to the dumpster. I was left with this sad pile of lids, pretty in their own way, but really an image of waste and irresponsibility. I’m glad to have this mess behind me. I will definitely insist all toxins are removed from our next home.

How to avoid this mess? Buy enough paint for your project. Don’t overbuy and be sure you’re certain of the color before you make a purchase. If you do end up with leftover paint, store your paint correctly (cover with a film of plastic wrap, securely reattach lid, and store upside down). Also, try to think of other spaces that can use the same color (visitors to my home will recognize leftover living room paint in my bathroom). If you realize you will never use that paint, donate it to a friend, church, or other charity; they may be able to use it to repaint a room, wall, or project. In the end, make sure you do not leave paint behind, instead dispose of it properly.

Concise, Helpful Information From A Government Agency?

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Preface:

When moving somewhere awesome, like Spain or say, Disney World, do not tell people the truth. Lie. Tell them you’re moving somewhere horrible, maybe to a van down by the river. Maybe they will feel bad and suddenly become helpful.

Tom and I attended our Overseas PCS briefing today (PCS stands for Permanent Change of Station). As soon as we walked in, the nice lady asked where we’re going.

“Spain!” I say cheerfully. (I was feeling extra cheerful since I was in my super cute, new jacket, without the girls, and actually wearing lipstick for once in my life…OK, it was Chapstick.)

“Nice jacket!” says the smiling Army Community Service lady. “All I can tell you is it’s warm there and you’ll have the time of your life. Here’s a packet on Germany, it will have to do!”

Germany is not Spain. Not even close. They don’t even touch. This does not look promising.

As the meeting wore on, speaker after speaker had no information on Spain. The basic attitude was clear through a glaring glimpse of bright green eyes, “Spain?! Who cares about how you get your stuff, your pets, your family there! Who cares where you’ll live! When you get there you can buy new pets, new children and sleep on the street. It doesn’t matter, you’ll be in Spain!!!”

While I do agree to this on some level, I do see the value in actually planning my move and hope I can find a way to do so quickly. This isn’t my first move, actually it is my 14th. I just counted to be sure. It is my first move overseas and not having information to read on a screen or hold in my hand is getting to me a bit. I listened, I took notes and I did get some tools to make this possible to include one service I never used before: Military Homefront.

What an incredible tool. Yes, run by the Department of Defense and incredible. There is a “Plan My Move” feature. I first created an account. After that, I simply plugged-in where I am, where I’m going (I had to choose a naval base in southern Spain…the only option), and clicked a button. What came out was amazing. I can’t believe I never heard about this website before today.

What? Just a calendar you say? Well. “Begin at the beginning and keep going til you come to the end.” I felt a bit like Alice when I looked at this and realized all the information at my fingertips. I can immediately view information for our current duty station or our gaining (new) installation. Just click under the big black smudge for a direct link.

Next, don’t have a sponsor? Well, request one! This is a soldier who will be assigned to make your move easier. Your sponsor meets you at the airport, drags your jet-lagged family to the hotel and sends you in the proper direction. Get one. Even if you’re moving to a base just one state over…get one. How? Just click the hyperlink and fill out the little form. Done.

The next bit brought tears to my eyes. The drop down menu. It’s title? “If you know the information you need, select the Topic to get right to it.” Could it be? No…but then I clicked and held my breath. Wow. The choices are nothing short of a miracle:

  • Destination Installation Overview
  • Exceptional Family Member Program Contacts
  • Finance Office Contacts
  • Housing Office Contacts
  • Housing Referral Office Contacts
  • Relocation Assistance Contacts
  • Relocation Budget Planner
  • School Liaison Officer
  • Spouse Education, Training and Careers
  • Transportation Office Contacts

In all my years dealing with the Army, I have never experienced anything so concise. This list puts you in touch with someone who can answer just about any question. Choose one of the topics and you receive complete information for both offices. No names, but address, phone numbers, hours, email, and website. Just about everything you need. I went one further. I tried a couple numbers and they work. Yes, I know. This is incredible.

The next genius bit? Those little buttons under the departure date:

  • Travel Checklist
  • Arrival Checklist
  • Documents to Hand-carry
  • Important Telephone Numbers
  • Print Your To Do List
  • Print Calendar

This is almost idiot proof. I selected “Arrival Checklist” and got something like this, I didn’t include the entire checklist, it went on and on with suggestions:

There are 14 areas and their sub-tasks listed. Usually, when we arrive in a new location I cover the essentials, but I don’t think of things such as establishing my pharmacy, finding a salon or a good repairman until I need one. Gathering all that information at once (from your sponsor, for example)? Genius.

Finally we come to the calendar. The calendar doesn’t leave a thing out. For example, here is the first full month of tips:

This sucker has everything, everything! It even suggests a day to plan what to do with houseplants (plus all the important stuff like getting passports, reserving lodging, etc.). Even better? Every little suggestion is a hyperlink to more information.

I have never experienced something so useful from DoD and I am amazed I never learned about it sooner. Definitely a necessary tool for the nomadic military family. Going into my nomadic essentials.

As pointed out by my very first Army Wife friend, Ash, there has to be a punch-line somewhere. I’ll let you know when I find it…

Found it. I had to help my husband navigate to the “Plan My Move” section from the home page. I updated the hyperlink to take you to the “Plan My Move” section. You can also click on the “Troops and Families” section from their home page. Just scroll down to the yellow “Plan My Move” button on the left side of the screen. Now if they can just make the website more user friendly…

Goodbye Trailer!

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Today my family said goodbye to our family camper. Just one more thing to scratch off our huge to do list before the big move.

Saying goodbye painfully reminds me about how hard it is to create family memories. Tom and I bought this weeks after learning we were coming up to “The North Country.” We imagined campfires, friends, splashing in the lake, and various picturesque moments straight out of L.L. Bean. Besides, a trailer (or camper or caravan, whatever you choose to call it) is the perfect accessory to a nomadic life. Isn’t it?

Well, I forgot a few important things. First memories are not made, they happen, they are created in the moment. And while it is possible to create a setting for fabulous family moments, trying to force a great moment is the one sure way to make it disappear. Lulled by the majesty of shiny new trailers, slide-outs and mini-refrigerators, I also forgot my youngest child has huge sleeping issues and the magical curtain separating their sleeping area from the rest of the trailer would not be enough to let her rest. Most importantly, I lost my mind and should have committed myself for even thinking of living in a camper with two girls, two cats, one dog and two freaked out parents.

We had two camping trips (crazy trips, full of stocking the trailer, trying to figure out meals and sleeping and basically instilling fear of all things camping related in me) before hauling our trailer up north to live in while we waited to move into our home. Except there wasn’t a home when we got here and the idyllic notion of sweatshirts, campfires, and sleepy girls curled up on our laps, immediately melted away into chaos as we set up camp in a parking lot between a couple of buildings. This was the post’s lodging area for campers. Yuck. It was horrible, we were worried about where we were going to live, cursing the Army Gods, and praying for a house to suddenly appear on our radar.

Our cats were miserable, our children even more so. We finally found a home, but then had the question of what to do with our precious trailer. After a couple of days of visiting every campground on the shores of Lake Ontario, we settled on a place about 30 minutes from home. Tom parked the trailer and shipped out two days later. I didn’t think of it for a few months. One spring day, I ignored the slight nauseous feeling I got at the thought of camping and headed out to Brennan Beach. Alone. With two girls who were not the same they were those many winter months before, meaning Regan was mobile and Emma was, well she was four.

It didn’t work out, the site was horrible, there were no children in our section and all my neighbors just stared at me with pity for the crazy woman with the deployed husband and a run away child. I didn’t like myself when I was there either, I became a beast, constantly yelling no, chasing girls, and trying to keep them entertained, rested and fed. I gave up and finally said no to camping. It was the best thing I did for us at the time.

The following fall Tom was home, we pulled out the trailer, put it in storage and pretty much knew we would either sell it if we went overseas or take it for short camping trips if we stayed stateside. Thankfully, we decided to sell. Even before we were certain about our duty station, we decided it wasn’t good for our family right now and sold.

Tom found a buyer, a retired navy dental hygienist whose older kids will love the AC, bunk beds and tinted windows (perfect for sleeping in). We scored enough to pay off the loan and take the family out for dinner and movie. All in all, I think we definitely did the best thing for us.

I searched for great pictures of us at the trailer and I really don’t have any. I don’t have a single picture of our site at Brennan Beach, that just tells you how much I loved it. I do want to keep something of the trailer and was really excited to see these free prints from Ashley at The Handmade Home (her blog previously known as Pure and Lovely):

Campers, created by Ashley of The Homemade Home

I am most definitely printing these out and giving them a home…maybe in my bathroom. They’re cute and funny and will hopefully make me forget the pain of trailer camping.  To check them out yourself, click on the picture or click right here. (As an aside, Ashley started a free art of the month club, really a monthly post of a darling print created by Ashley for the blogosphere…thanks, Ashley!)