Captain Hook and I

I was sitting on my Uncle’s porch in Maryland last weekend reading my Bible and drinking my coffee when my oldest daughter (the introvert) came out to spend some time in the warmth of the rising sun with me.

It was a really precious time.

As I sat there reading and meditating, she started talking about Peter Pan and Captain Hook.  I got to thinking…

I am Captain Hook.

I wanted to be Peter Pan.  Truth be told, I have often put Peter Pan more or less in the position of somebody I would like to be someday.  Free…  Wild…  Adventurous…

It clicked that morning by the pool that I share a lot more in common with Captain Hook than I realized.

1.  Captain Hook is haunted by an alligator that has swallowed a clock.  It is really neat for me to think about an Alligator and a clock going hand in hand.  Time moves constantly on, the hands of the clock can never be stopped and time will consume everything in its path.  I think a lot about time, not simply as a law of life, but as a character in my story.  I cannot escape the effects of time.  If I am unprepared, selfish, unobservant, etc., time will be upon me and will consume something in my life.  I will have to work very hard to recover what I lost or have to learn how to live without it.  Sounds a lot like a man with a hook in the place of a hand that was swallowed by a tick tocking alligator.  Likewise, if I am prepared and I am living wisely, then I am rewarded by seeing the fruit that comes with time.  Almost like planting a garden and then seeing a happy little alligator carrying a basket of carrots and tomatoes to my house.  Silly… I know…   In the end Hook and I are both running from and fighting with time, in the form of an alligator or not, we both engage in this dance.

2.  Captain Hook is in constant pursuit of Peter Pan.  Peter Pan seems to really symbolize youth and freedom.  Hook has a ship full of pirates to look after and command as well as a mission to accomplish.  He has the gift of age and maturity which has produced the burden of responsibility upon his shoulders.  Yet the single greatest pursuit of his life is this youth, free and wild.  It is interesting to me that Hook runs from time and chases youth.  I do not chase youth per se.  I do not do much of anything to make me look or feel younger.  I am actually very VERY happy to be ageing at the rate that I am and I embrace my age.  I’m happy to be the age that I am and I look forward to getting older, even though I know there are some hard things that come with that.  I cannot help but reminisce about my youth and dream about being young again.  I find myself getting carried away by hobbies sometimes and then discover that, in those moments, I am chasing my youth.  Hiking, hunting, fishing, riding my bicycle, running around with the kids in the yard… these all remind me of being young and I pursue those activities with a vengeance.  My kids are truly lucky!!

3.  Whether you knew this or not, Hook tries to make Wendy his mother as well as the mother of the pirates under his command.  Amazing.  He is looking for some kind of loving, gentle, caring, affirming, emotional connection that he currently does not have in his life.  These things are well symbolized in the idyllic mother.  It is no question that I look for these things too.  My wife has been a true blessing to me.  She has given so many of these things to me and has helped me figure out how to receive these things for myself from Jesus, but it does not change the fact that my heart looks for these things often.

In short…  Captain Hook runs from time and the consequences time brings, chases his youth, and pursues a gentle, affirming love just like me.

I am Captain Hook.

I was Captain Hook.

Though I still feel all of the things I just mentioned, there is one major difference.

Captain Hook is perpetually engaged in a vain pursuit of hopelessness.

I am not.

I feel the pressure of time every time he comes around.  Instead of running from him, I live wisely.  I make the most of every moment because that clock marches on and I will be measured in the end.  Instead of running I engage.  It kind of takes the teeth out of the Alligator and makes him more of a pet than a menacing creature.  I play with my kids, I read my Bible, I cherish my wife, I exercise, I read a lot, I go for walks, I forgive, I give grace to my friends, I ask questions, and I generally want to intimately know others as well as to be known.  I am actively building my life with an eye on time and an eye on the standard to which I will be measured.

I do not chase my youth.  I do not subscribe to the magazines that sell youth and insecurity to men, I do not care at all that my face has hard lines and wrinkles in it or that my gut hangs lower than it used to.  It does not bother me that I am slower than guys I work with who are younger or that I am sore for longer after a hike than I used to be.  I spend no money (and thus no time) on trying to look, sound, smell, or act like I did 10 years ago, or like those who are 10 years younger than I am.  I have found a deep sense of satisfaction and pleasure in maturity.  I find confidence in my thoughts and attitudes which comes from having spent time thinking about life and engaging in life.  I enjoy the confidence that comes from competence which seems to come from a solid investment of time, thinking, and making mistakes.  I look forward to the next 20, 30, or 40 years of learning and growing more competent and confident in who I am.

I know that I am deeply loved and cherished.  I know that I am pursued with a passionate vengeance.  Just because I feel the ache of desire which longs for love and affirmation does not mean that I am not loved or affirmed, it simply means that I want it badly and that I appreciate it immensely when I receive it.  I do not need to go looking for it very often because it is very often brought to me when I am not looking.

I can identify very much with Captain Hook.  I really can.  I guess the truth is I used to be Captain Hook…   wanting to be Peter Pan.

Now I know who I am…   And I am pretty sure that Captain Hook and Peter Pan wish they were more like me!

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Thanks for reading.

Day 1 Done…

Eternity to go.  Or that is at least how it feels.

Class went well today.  Mostly just paperwork and the meet and greet with the instructor staff.

As I sat in class today listening to the stories and really letting the weight of what I have just embarked upon sink in a little bit more, I realized that I am really pretty nervous.  This is not like me normally so I spent some time trying to figure out the source of this twinge of anxiety.

I am not afraid to fail (even though I never have), I am afraid of succeeding.  There seems to be a deep fear in me that says I will do well in this course, like I have in every course I have started, and then I will get to the job and not be prepared.  I will know the book answers, but won’t be able to function in reality.  I heard a theme with the instructors today… trust the course… you will be ready.

I had to think about the rest of my life also.

I do not want to study in order to pass the tests and practical evaluations in my class just to fail on the job.  Am I now doing what is “right” by my family so that I can pass the tests in life?  Am I investing in my kids now so that when they are teenagers or college kids, I will have a good relationship with them resulting in my good grade?  Or am I more concerned about preparing now so that I can reign with Christ in Heaven?

This struggle in me has been communicated by others in this way…

Do I live for the applause of men or for the applause of Heaven?

If I am studying for the test, then I am living for the applause of men.

If I am preparing for the reality to come then I am living for the applause of heaven.

When thinking about the school, I do not want to fail at all.  I want to be good at my job and I do not want to cause harm to anybody around me.  I want to be trusted and I want to have the ability to take care of other people.  I will have to trust those who have gone before me, those who have set the example for me, and I will have to follow their advice.

Trust the course… you will be ready.

I live with an incredibly deep insecurity that screams at me each day with an incessant voice of rage and terror that says the time is coming and you are not ready… will not be ready…

I feel that pressure in so many things.  This is the pressure that causes me to naturally be such a “do-er.”

I would like to start living out of a sense of preparedness instead of a sense of dread for the future.  I want to start tasting the life I now have for what it is worth as opposed to tasting the bitterness of loss which has not yet occurred.

I feel the tension of having my eyes on the horizon, ever vigilant for what is coming and distant from what is currently happening around me.  I feel as though, if I stop looking at the horizon and focus on what is around me, I will not see the mountain and we will crash and burn because of my failure, but if I keep my eyes on the horizon, we will reach the destination and my family and friends will disembark as strangers to me instead of those with whom I have developed intimacy.

Woops…

I did not plan out this post.  I wanted to check in after the first day and say things went well.  Then I rambled about my heart a bit.

Oh well…  thanks for reading.

Here we go again…

It has been a little while but we have finally settled down after the move. Or rather, we are settling down enough that I can get back to writing and reflecting a little bit.

A little bit of admin stuff up front…

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We moved out of our house March 16. We slept in our own beds again May 13. Almost 2 months of living out of bags and sleeping on floors! It was quite an adventure. Please Please Please do not think that we were having a hard time. It seems as though we did not suffer at all.

One of my objectives for the trip was to spend some time together as a family and see if we could strengthen some of relationships. There are some wounds in my kids that I have caused and I wanted to see if I could spend those months trying to reconcile their little hearts to mine.

It seems to have worked well. Now that I understand the hearts of my older kids a little bit better, we were able to connect in a more deliberate manner. My oldest daughter, the introvert, would sit next to me for 6 hours at a time.  It was most comfortable for me to ride with my right arm resting across the seat-backs, and so my hand would rest on her shoulder.  We wouldn’t talk about much, but the moments we did spend talking were precious.

Sleeping on the floor wasn’t bad either.  We got to stay with family, friends, friends who are family, and family who are friends.  All in all it was such a great trip.  Spent time with a range of people like folks that my wife and kids have never met and that I have dearly missed (Thanks for the grape juice bro!), as well as family that we saw last Christmas.

And now we are here.

I have a lot of butterflies in my stomach right now.  It feels like tomorrow is the first day at a new school…  probably because it is.  I’m more excited than I am nervous or anxious.  I do wonder if I have what it takes.  I’m not so concerned about graduating, I wonder if I have what it takes to actually be the sole medical provider on a submarine.

I’m sure it will be fine.

My soul rests as I wait.

Thanks for being patient with us as we travelled.

Thanks so much too for letting us sleep on your floors!!   I cannot think of a better way to explore this great nation of ours!!

 

Until next time…

Alluring Altus

Maybe not alluring to those who live here, or have been here, or have even heard of this place, but to the 6 of us vagabonds covering almost 2300 miles in the last 6 days…  Alluring is what it is.

The allure of stopping the madness for a week.  The allure of spending time with people we dearly love and missed for so long.  The allure of letting our kids run around and play in the sunshine.  The allure of eating regular food served at a dinner table.  The allure of eating in restaurant which has actual wait staff instead of a line with a billboard menu and a cash register.

Do not get me wrong… I LOVE the road trip life.  I love conquering the miles, pulling a heavy load, and seeing the gorgeous land of America pass me by.

But there is something that magically adds to the allure of a place like Altus when sitting in the tiny little control space of a “slow,” heavy, missile travelling for so many days.

My wife and kids have been doing so well.  They have been handling the stress of the trip so much better than I have.  My wife has staged all kinds of stuff all over the cab of the truck in order to keep the kids safe, clean, and entertained.  The older 2 actually do some of their school work while riding.  This picture shows her door.  When looking at the cab from her side, the entire truck is stashed with tools at the ready.

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The truck is still doing really well.  We are at the halfway point of the trip and I’m praying that we do not end up stranded before we get to Groton.

My little introvert really enjoys sitting next to me for the long hours, just sitting.  We talk about very little, but she enjoys it quite a bit.  She sits there and looks around and draws in her notebook.  Good Times.

I have not had much exercise for the duration of the trip, so I went for a bike ride this morning.  I have never ridden my bicycle in a flat area.  I felt so good this morning on this flat ground!  It was like I was riding lightning!!

We are staying on an Air Force base right now and there is a jogging/biking path around the flight line.  While I was riding on the far end of the base, several C 17s took off right by me.  It made me feel so fast!!  There I was, pedalling with all my  might, a steady Oklahoma wind in my face making me feel like I was doing 60, and the sound of those massive jet engines…  In my head it was all me… a little red Cannondale jet rocket screaming across a bike path on the plains!

It is good to be off the road for a little while.

Thanks for reading.

(Another picture from the Pacific Northwest… man am I going to miss that place)

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To The Springs!!

We made it to Colorado Springs without incident.  We had such a great time in the Salt Lake City area that we decided to stay until after lunch before beginning the trek east.

We pulled into “The Springs” (as the locals call it) a little after 0100.  Our hostess was more than gracious.  She stayed up until we got there just to greet us.  It really is pretty awesome having such a large number of people who love my family and I.

Truck is still doing really well.  I have been playing around with an aftermarket monitor so that I can watch different parameters in the engine and transmission as I drive.  This thing is a sheer beast.  Did almost 10 whole miles per gallon between Salt Lake City and Colorado Springs, but I managed a pretty steady 75 the entire trip!!  Not bad sir, not bad at all.

Got up this morning and had breakfast at a castle.  That is correct… a castle.  The Navigators national headquarters and conference center are in Colorado Springs.  The conference center is actually an entire estate which was established by General Palmer.  He also established several of the communities around Colorado Springs.  He built a castle for his wife tucked away behind some really pretty rocks right next door to the Garden of the Gods.

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The kids loved walking around the castle and I should have known the outcome before I asked if they wanted to eat breakfast there the next morning… obvious yes.

So we started that day later than I would have liked, but the kids did get to eat a royal breakfast.

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… and what do kids eat for a royal breakfast when they have so many choices??  You guessed it… Fruit Loops!!  Of all the options, fruit loops for the win!

Irony I guess.

It was a good time in The Springs.

Next Stop… Altus Oklahoma

Salt Lake Ci… leep

Made it!

We had a great time in Portland.  I have a couple good friends there and it was great seeing them before getting back on the road again.  I essentially got to debrief our time in Washington.  I’ll be thinking about that place for a long time.

We hit the road at 0400 and pushed on to Lindon, UT.  We are staying with a friend of mine from my first duty station.  I had planned on showing up, going to sleep and hanging out a bit the next day before departing for Colorado Springs.  We ended up sitting up until 1 AM talking about our kids and looking at old souvenirs from Okinawa.

Before leaving Portland I had a weight distributing hitch and sway bar installed for the trailer.  It took a little bit of custom fabrication since my trailer is made of “I” beam instead of box beam or “c” channel.  The trailer pulls with almost no swag or sway.  Awesome!!

We averaged right at 8 MPG for the drive yesterday.  Part of me wants to blame my transmission and have it looked it, the other part wants to be proud since I am pulling such a heavy load up and down some pretty intense mountains.

Speaking of mountains…

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Jessica and the kids were asleep for the majority of the drive from Portland to Boardman.  The road we were on follows the Columbia River as it borders Washington and Oregon.  It was very quiet and peaceful while the kids slept and the sunrise painted the sky as I drove east along the river.  So amazing.

It finally started to set in that I am leaving the Pacific Northwest.  I’m really going to miss Bremerton.  I’m really going to miss the people that I got involved with while living up there.

Several friends have let us know how much they miss us and love us.  I can hear the ache deep within their hearts as they express their love for me and my family.  I identify with them completely.  I have that same ache for them and for my little corner of Washington State.

What is really cool for me is that I have felt that same kind of ache for so long for the family that developed for me in North Carolina.  For the better part of 5 years now, I have had a deep longing and a squelched affection for my family in North Carolina… as well as Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, and Tennessee.

As I drive down this road, my heart breaks for the people we are leaving while simultaneously erupting with great joy that I will finally be able to see the other side of my family again.

I am a torn man!

I do not regret having lived in Washington.  On the contrary I am so very glad that I had the opportunity.

I do not regret leaving Washington.  I am happy to have made the friends I made and have had the opportunity to leave a bit of my life behind with them.

I guess this is just one of the bags the vagabond carries.

Washington (and my people there)… I will miss you dearly.

Colorado, Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, Tennessee, Georgia, North Carolina, DC, and Maryland (and my people there)…  Stand by!!  I’m en route!!

To my unknown friends in Connecticut…  Brace for impact!!

(The kids wanted pictures with our crowns)

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Seattle to Portland

We made it to Portland.

We got started about 6 hours later than I planned.  We had more to load into the suburban than I had planned, but all in all, things went well.

I got almost 13mpg as an average from Seattle to Portland, but I held a solid 72 for the vast majority of the trip.  I felt so proud.  I also discovered that driving around 65 will get me right at 15mpg, so I think I’ll slow down for the rest of the journey.

The trailer pulls fine as long as there is no wind and no bumps or turns.  Add any of those things, and that trailer gets unruly quick.  I’ll be looking for a different hitch set up in the morning to see if I can negate any of that.  Might look for some airbags too.

Truck and Trailer

Stopped for a supper at a place called “The Burger Claim“.  This place is outstanding!!  They buy their meat in steak form, they grind it themselves, and they make fries from actual potatoes just like 5 Guys Burgers and Fries.  They also give a 15% military discount.  Food was outstanding.  Not only are the burgers fresh and tasty, they used shotgun shell Christmas lights in the dining area.  Tacky… Check.   ‘Murica…  Check.

Shotty Lights

If any of our Washington military friends are looking for a short little family vacation, head down to the Great Wolf Lodge.  It is an indoor water park and “The Burger Claim” is right next door.  Or if y’all are driving from Seattle to Portland or vice versa, this place is pretty much dead center.

I am really worn out.  A lot of stress from today has really taken a toll on me.  That trailer getting twitch and swimming down the road took a lot to keep in my lane.  I really hope I can figure something out before we start crossing the mountains into Utah and Colorado.  I really don’t feel like killing anybody on the road in the next few days.

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She doesn’t hold it against you…

It’s not your fault Matt.  The blame for how my life has turned out does not rest upon your shoulders. I can think of nothing for which to blame you.

If you did anything at all, it was provide an open door for my escape.  For my testing.  For me to respond to a visceral call to manhood.  For that, I am grateful.

This came at a price.  I know that you saw some things change in me.  I know you saw the raging anger and the bitter cold that took up residence in my heart.  You are correct.  I did get that in Ramadi.  I lost my ability to control the pain of my past and hide the brokenness from the rest of the world, and I took on a lot of things that turned cancerous to my soul.  You have no part in contributing to this brokenness.

I appreciate the phone call you made.  I wanted to belong for a long time and my heart was crying out during that time of my life to feel like I was wild and dangerous and free.  I was working in a warehouse in a tiny medical clinic in Key West.  Nothing wild.  Nothing dangerous.  Not free.  Caged, contained, pacified.  Not challenged.  Not encouraged to concquer.

Your phone call inviting me to return to Camp Lejeune could not have come at a more opportune time.

Jessica knew there were some ugly spots in me.  She had already experienced some of the poison that I had to offer her.  The things you saw change in our marriage after my deployment were not completely new or fully unexpected.  There were storm clouds on the horizon from the moment we said our vows.

While I did sustain some deep wounds from that deployment, you did not give them to me.  You did not make me deploy.  You did not make me act the way I acted, or respond to the circumstances I was in in the manner which I responded.  You simply made the phone call.  I filled out the paperwork.  I moved my family.  I tried so hard to earn the respect of my platoon and fully integrate into one of the teams.

I do not know if you still feel as though the hard things that Jessica experienced because of the negative change in me is your fault.  She holds you responsible for nothing.  Again, she doesn’t hold anything against you.  My wife loves you like she loves my little brother.  She cares about you and honors our relationship deeply.

Not all of those bad days resulted in unmitigated floods and storm damage in my life either.  That time of my life can easily be called a blizzard of blizzards.  Ice cold, raging, furious, and violent.  Over time the snow has laid quietly in my life while I tried to figure out what do with it.  Because of the good counsel and the encouragement I have gotten from several men in my life, spring has returned.  Now that the storm has passed the snow has melted and nourished the roots of some really amazing things.  My character has developed really well.  I understand my identity, purpose, and values now because of some of the work I had to do to mitigate the damage from the blizzard.

I know what the winter is like now and I can appreciate the spring that much more.

Thanks so much for calling me that day.  It was one of those unexpected moments, walking around in a grocery store, and I get a phone call that ended up changing my life.

Thank you so much for that fateful phone call.

Jessica holds nothing against you brother…

… and I am so very thankful that you made the call.

 

The Baker and The Flour

“I cannot complain about the flour… or the early mornings”

That was what she said.  That is what set me free to pursue the things I enjoy and feel led to do.  But did she mean it?  There is no way she did because she had no idea what she was talking about… but she said it all the same.

We were riding through Key West at the time and I was trying to figure out what to do with my life.  I was set to get out of the Navy within the year and I was really torn between going to college, becoming a cop, or trying out for SARC, Special Amphibious Recon Corpsman.  I knew that I should involve my wife in this decision making process.

As we sat riding in the Jeep, we talked about my desires for the future.  I would talk about being a cop and then tell her that I wanted to steer away from that.  My dad was a cop for as long as I can remember.  I remember how it felt to be a kid and have my dad gone so often with the strange hours and rotating schedule of a Police Officer.  I remember watching my mom’s face when she would get the phone call saying daddy would not be coming home because he was standing on the side of the road taking care of a traffic accident.  I remember what it felt like to know that my dad had arrested the brothers and fathers of some of the kids in my class and that I had to watch out for the retaliation against my dad that might be served to him through my broken body.  It was a rough life and I did not want that for my family.

I mostly did not want that for my wife.  My mom spent a lot of time raising us kids by herself.  My dad would ask her how we were and he would tell her what he would like for her to do with us, but my mom was really the active one in raising us.  I did not want my wife to be that “single” parent because I was gone so often.

When I shared these ideas with her, she responded by talking about a baker.  She said,

“You are not the man that you are because of the job that you do, you do the job that you do because of the man that you are.”

That took a long time to sink in.  She continued by explaining that she could not marry a man who enjoys the early morning, serving breakfast, and exercising his creative spirit through baking, and then complain about the early mornings, the smell of pastries, and all the dirty aprons.  If she marries a baker, she has to put up with the baking.

It still took a little while for my identity to be refined and for me to understand what that meant.  As I started thinking through these things, I started to question my motives for choosing my future job.  What it boiled down to was pretty simple.  I wanted a job where I would be required to think under stressful conditions, use my body to bring about the desired results of a task at hand, and to serve people in a manner in which they were not able to serve themselves.  I wanted to protect, defend, and serve.  I wanted to think, strategize, and make things happen.  There does not seem to be many jobs that put such a high emphasis on intelligence, “outside of the box thinking”, and physical prowess and stamina.  That kind of ruled college out.  It also set Recon above getting out to be a cop.

But I was afraid that Jessica did not fully comprehend what she was asking.  In my extensive wisdom, I made her watch Black Hawk Down and then go talk to some of the wives of the instructors at the Army’s dive school on Flemming Key.  She spent a few days in a very somber mood.  When we continued the conversation, she confirmed what she had said before.

I started looking for a bakery.

We lost everything we owned to Hurricane Wilma.  While walking around a grocery store making a list of the food items we lost for the insurance claim I got a call from a friend of mine.  He was a part of 3/8 (Third battalion, Eighth marine regiment, pronounced Three Eight) and they were deploying to Ramadi.  He said the platoon sergeant had requested 2 Corpsmen for the deployment, and that the battalion wanted to support this decision, but had already assigned their other stellar performers to other sections.  He asked if I wanted to go to Ramadi with 3/8 Scout Sniper Platoon.

I hung up the phone and talked to Jessica.  The next day I started the paperwork and within 2 months had all the signatures I needed to move back to Camp Lejeune.

Right after Christmas 2005 I slid into the platoon.

I’ve been baking ever since.

Thanks Sweetie for recognizing what it meant to marry a man like me, embracing the difficulties and making the sacrifices required of you, and for not ever complaining about duty days and deployments.

Pack Out

I am so sorry that it has been a while since my last post.  We are SUPER busy right now getting our lives to a point that we can move from Bremerton to Groton.  Transplanting this family of mine is no simple task.

The packers showed up and made quick work of getting our stuff ready to go.  They were friendly enough and got right to business.  They moved so fast that they were able to go home right after lunch each day.  Awesome!!

Boxes

Maybe not so awesome… They completely missed a cabinet full of towels and wash rags, all of our eating utensils, and several other items.  Those things would have filled 3 or 4 boxes.  All in all not too bad, but I would expect that packers actually pack all the stuff.

I really appreciated their professional manner and the speed and intensity with which they worked.  I really appreciated how much wrapping material they used to protect my stuff.  I did not appreciate at all the lack of follow through.

I find myself often telling my kids that they need to have some speed and intensity while doing their chores.  Folding clothes, unloading the dishwasher, cleaning their rooms, do these things quickly and with focussed purpose.  But in the end of the day, it does not matter to me how the job got done as long as it is done.  I would prefer quick, focussed, professional, efficient, etc., but thorough is a not negotiable.

Jessica is doing great with this move so far.  She really does have a gift for managing so many things with such efficiency.  We are both “dropping the ball” frequently with some of the smaller things, but so far we have completed each task which needs to be completed by the required time.

The kids have gone through some pretty wide ranging emotions.  We let them come into the house for a couple minutes each day that it was being packed and loaded so that they can experience the transition.  I was hoping that it would be less of a shock to them if they got to see the process instead of just leaving the house one day like normal and returning a week later and seeing it completely empty.

A couple of them cried when they saw their stuff in boxes.

All in all we are doing really well.  The house is packed up.  The movers have loaded all of our goods and we are preparing to get underway in a week.

We will see some of you on the road next month!

I really will try to keep these little, short posts rolling pretty steadily throughout our move.

Thanks for following us in our adventure.