Change of Plans

I've been looking forward to moving house for a long time.  Some friends of ours moved into a lovely apartment almost two years ago and I immediately knew I wanted to join them.  Unfortunately we had only just resigned our 12-month lease, so we had a long wait ahead.  When our next opportunity rolled around, they served us with new papers earlier than expected, and the location Dave's new job assignment was in question, so we opted to wait another year.  The move was now scheduled for next April.  I was really looking forward to being closer to friends, closer to Dave's work, closer to the free dog park, in a prettier apartment with a double sink in the kitchen, long counters in the bathroom, a gym and a pool.  (Our current apartment lacks both the gym and the pool, the gym being the more attractive prospect of the two.)

The de-cluttering began in earnest.  We were going to paint the walls, buy new furniture, replace the glass on the dining room table.  There was a whole list of exciting things that would happen "after we move."  One of those things was going to be trying for another pregnancy.  It seemed silly not to at least give it a shot after all the probings and scannings and surgical corrections we had done.

But you know what they say: location, location, location.  As much as I wanted to just move and be done, in the end I couldn't reconcile moving away from my current doctor.  It's not that I'm particularly attached to her, but both my PCP and my OBGYN are in the same building, and that building is just a few minutes up the street we live on now.  The hospital is a ten-minute drive down the road and through a neighborhood.  If we're going to attempt another high-risk pregnancy, it doesn't make sense to move away from this incredibly convenient set-up we have here.

So, I mourned the move for about a day.  Then I bought (and built) new furniture and painted the walls.  I rearranged everything in the living room and the bedroom.  I made pillow covers and new table linens.  A large piece of glass will be procured to keep them nice.  The thought of possibly being pregnant, miserable and couch-ridden soon made me want to do all the heavy lifting now.  In the meantime, we've given up our semi-celibate lives, so we'll see what happens.

Pictures of the new decor to follow, just the "afters" because I forgot to take "befores."   Regardless of whether the pregnancy works out or not, I love our new blue walls.

General Delays

Sorry the promised "before and after" pictures are taking so long.  If it's not one thing, it really is another.  We're coming down to the wire before Bev has to leave in a few weeks, and we haven't quite managed to reach that moved-in equilibrium that makes the house picture-worthy.

First it was just the crazy cold that put everybody out for several weeks.  We heard later that there's a whooping cough epidemic in California at the moment.  I don't know if that's what we had, but it was pretty bad.  Everybody seemed to catch the bug in waves; first Dave caught it, then I caught it, then Bev caught it, so altogether we were probably unable to go anywhere or plan anything for almost a month.  We certainly couldn't use Bev's awesome gift certificates to the Whaling Station while we all sounded like we had the plague and were too sniffly to taste anything.

When the cough was gone, we were able to unpack, but we were distracted by the saga of the car repairs.  Our cute little car had a minor bang-up the first day Bev was here, and we've been all this time trying to schedule a rental car and a body shop appointment around a move and being sick.  We finally accomplished that objective last week, and of course it's a story all it's own.

Despite the many times I explained to Allstate that we were located in California at the moment, they made our rental reservation in Virginia, so our reservation number came up invalid.  The Enterprise guy spent much time on the phone working that out and making a new reservation.  Unfortunately they had no cars on site at the time.  They found a little VW beetle at the airport, but unfortunately the previous renters had trashed it, and it was in need of much detail work.  All they could drum up for us was an outsized pickup truck, probably the last thing I really wanted to drive.  Bev had a good laugh; the irony was unmistakable.  See pictures at Banana Bum.  But wait -- there's more.  This brand new, dark grey Chevy Silverado had no license plates, no tags, no stickers or markings of any kind.  The best they could do was put the VIN number on the paperwork.  The only thing that would make it look more suspicious would be extra tint on the windows, or maybe an Iraqi flag.  We imagined being pulled over several times a day by police, denied access to the Presidio, and all manner of other headaches.  Fortunately nobody gave us any trouble, but it was still quite the anomaly.

On a sudden impulse, I bought a couch.  The living room looks much better with something between the bookshelves besides a rug.  We had to wait four days for it to be delivered, but it was well worth it.  We were just putting what passed for finishing touches on our space, and almost ready to call it done.

Now that all the backed up chores are taken care of, Bev made our Whaling Station reservations for Saturday evening.  But as our luck would have it, Dave crawls into the car Wednesday afternoon and says, "Ugh, my throat feels like crap."  He's sick again with the same thing that started this whole mess.  The bedroom is a quarantined disaster area, and I'm using our new couch for temporary sleeping quarters since I have no desire to share the love this time around.  Our dinner reservations are in question, but I'd rather two of us go than none of us, and the worst case scenario is that we're all at home next week in our pajamas playing "99 Bottles of DayQuil on the Wall."  Basically, Dave has until Saturday evening to get healthy, or he gets his food in a doggie bag.

Beginnings of Success

Our stuff is on the road! Kudos to my diehard in-laws and all their friends who got soaking wet yesterday loading the truck in the rain. Can't wait to unload!

More on the Move

We have received yet another demand from the movers, namely that I suddenly appear in Georgia to sign on the dotted line when they pick up our stuff, and then return to California to sign the other dotted line when they arrive. Since I have not yet mastered bilocation, I'll just have to call them once again and beg for some reconsideration on their part.

I really hate doing things from a distance.


Follow-up: Efforts to raise them on the phone were unsuccessful at the house because there are clouds and therefore not even the slightest cell signal. Driving away to the commissary parking lot in my pajamas produced no better results, because Cliff would not answer his extension and nobody else was interested in hearing about my problems or answering my questions.

This move is supposed to be happening in two days, and could still be a huge bust with a nonrefundable deposit. I'm starting to consider the possibility of living in unfurnished homes for the duration of our military misadventure. It seems easier somehow.

Dogs and Moths

The move had finally been arranged, meaning we've actually spent money on it and set a pickup date. We're not really sure what the delivery date will be, since the movers gave us a ten day window. The bank will suffer a rather severe bloodletting on Friday when we settle the balance, but fortunately that is also payday, so recovery should be relatively swift.

So far it seems like we have a pretty good deal, but I'll believe it when I see it. There were still a few hiccups along the way, things I wouldn't have even thought about. So many difficulties arise out of not being physically present with the items we're attempting to move. After the contract was signed and the deposit was paid, we were sent an extensive form regarding the Gypsy Moth Inspection we were supposed to conduct before shipping our goods across the sacrosanct California state line. We were informed that if we did not complete the form - in duplicate - with an itemized list of what we were shipping and the appropriate signatures certifying that we have inspected all our worldly possessions and destroyed all the gypsy moths, the Department of Agriculture would quarantine our things at the border. I didn't see any moths eight months ago when I last saw my things, but I don't think that would satisfy the angry farmers. Besides, we don't have anything as extravagant as a printer yet, the neighbors' printer didn't work, and the computers David has access to at work are all property of the US government and don't allow anyone to open attachments. Apparently there's a computer lab at the library here on base, but I've looked for it several times and I'm convinced it doesn't still exist. Fortunately, when I finally got the movers on the phone again, they said it actually wasn't a big deal and nobody really cared who filled out the paperwork, so I just sent the whole email to the in-laws. Movers are supposed to call me on Friday to tell us when the truck will be coming on Saturday.

By this point, I feel like we're trying to ransom our stuff back, just waiting for the next phone call, the next set of instructions, the next pay out.

"IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR HOUSEHOLD GOODS AGAIN, PAY $1,295 BY CHECK OR CREDIT CARD, AND SUBMIT TEN PAGES OF CERTIFIED PROOF OF THE DEMISE OF ALL GYPSY MOTHS . . ."

All this happened while we were babysitting our neighbors' dogs, the rat terrier and the dachshund. Just to make matters more interesting, that afternoon we discovered a quivering mass of helplessness hiding under the car; another dachshund, chocolate brown, lost and alone in the world. So, for the moment we have a dog, and her name is Tootsie. She had no collar, no tags, and every indication of having been dumped. Apparently she has expensive tastes, and won't touch dry dog food. After being with us for a few days she's finally started to act normal again, and despite her undeniable cuteness she's off to the shelter tomorrow.

Shame On You, Coleman

This current air mattress lasted all of three weeks. Actually, it started sagging after one week, but we only just now started waking up on the floor. Completely unacceptable, but we're maddeningly powerless to do anything about it. We are actively trying to move our stuff, but it's a process.

Getting Some Traction

I think I've finally made a full phycological recovery. I can actually get up and make a dent in the list of long overdue house chores, scrub the bathroom, clean the kitchen, sweep and mop the floor and keep the dishes done, all instead of lying around in a sweatshirt with my hair in a knot watching crap on YouTube. I can look at Gerber commercials without going to pieces, and I don't hate the sight of mothers walking through the neighborhood with strollers. I can even visit Facebook once in a while to read about my friends and their new kids.

Meredith came down for a visit yesterday while she was still in town. We went out for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach and rocks at Lover's Point having long overdue candid conversation. We even spotted a few whales in the bay. I'll have to take my sister out there when she comes; she'll love the squirrels everywhere. But next time I'll actually remember to bring some sunscreen. Ouch.

David is taking his mock finals this week, and it's looking more and more like he'll actually get the rollback we've been waiting for. The paperwork in question seems to be making good time through the proper channels. We're not sure exactly how long that will extend our stay out here, but we should know more in a week or two.

Once he actually joins his new class, we'll move our things out here and make this house some semblance of a home. Just cleaning the floor and picking up all the crap that was piled in the corners made it feel less like living in a garage. I put the guest bedroom together for Bev, and it already looks cozy, or as much as it can with just the "bed" (air mattress) and three small pictures from the dollar store. It would be nice to just have a few posters in poster frames to lighten the monotony, but nobody sells posters of anything we'd bother to hang on our walls. I used to swear by Allposters.com, but now they're more about pricy art prints.

The IRS is still mucking around with my tax return, which I filed 16 weeks ago. The first time I called them they gave me some line about it taking eight weeks to process a paper return, which wasn't really relevant, because I filed electronically. The website told me they had deposited it a few weeks ago, but now they've changed their minds and say they might possibly mail it by Friday. I will believe it when I see $705.70 appear in the bank. Maybe this was an act of God, making sure we didn't spend it before we could put it toward hiring a moving truck.

Spinning Wheels

Apparently we're not moving at all, at least not until October. There's no way the military will help pay for any of it, and we don't have the resources right now to do it ourselves. The last thing I want to do is beg the family for more money, so we'll just tough it out. Besides, now that we've lost the baby, the issue of general comfort isn't so pressing.

We had considered renting until October, or at least until we knew whether or not he was getting a rollback or some other extended assignment that would keep us here. But the more research I do on the rental companies and how they work, I'm more reluctant to even open that can of worms. Air mattresses are cheaper in the long run, easily disposed of, and they don't have bedbugs.

I have my last appointment with my OB tomorrow. I have a host of questions, particularly whether we should continue trying to have children or I should look into expensive corrective surgery first. I have my doubts about whether Tricare would help us with that sort of thing.

We just can't seem to catch a break out here. :'(

Moving Once, Moving Twice . . . ?

We have officially had enough of our empty house. We have decided to DITY move out here regardless of whether we might be packing up again four months, which is by no means set in stone. We spent last week at the neighbor's house watching their dogs while they were gone over their class break, and it was amazing to sit on a couch again. Dave's class break is next week, so we're hoping to get all the required paperwork and arrangements taken care of during our free time. So much for a real vacation, but when else are we supposed to go visit these offices which are only open during class hours?

It would also be nice to have a real bed on legs, and some pictures to hang. Morning sickness has stricken with a vengeance, so I spend most of my days flat on my back anyway, staring at two pasty off-white walls and a belching closet (when I don't have my face in the toilet). Crawling up off the floor to make a stumbling dash for the facilities is getting more odious every day, particularly when the air mattress doesn't hold air like it's supposed to. It also has a habit of slowly migrating away from the wall when I try to sit up to eat or watch movies, which eventually creates a gap wide enough to swallow my pillows.

While we're on the subject, food aversions are an interesting phenomenon, but aren't there supposed to be one or two foods left that aren't repulsive? I have to eat sometime, right? I've had very little luck so far finding a healthy menu to get me through the rough patches. The stuff that stays down best is always salty, soggy, floppy, limp, chewed and swallowed with minimal effort. Thank God for Taco Bell; their regular soft tacos fit the bill perfectly, and always look like they've spent the entirety of their short wilted lives next to a humidifier. For the especially sensitive days, I still resort to french fries.

Quite another story altogether, but one worth telling, is the saga of the Vanishing Rollback. A while ago, a spot opened up in another class and it was offered to Dave. It would give him a chance to backtrack a few months and get a running start at the more advanced material. It would also move his graduation date from October to March. He accepted it, and we were told the finalization process would take about a week or two. A month and several inquiries later, we were informed that the open seat had defaulted to the Army because the paperwork had been snagged up too long. Do not pass Go; do not collect $200. Fortunately, his chain of command was as frustrated as we were, and apparently they are determined to find something else for him. Whenever the next guy drops, hopefully Dave will get his spot. Or they may try him in a different language altogether, and we might never leave. One way or another, we really don't know when we'll be moving away, and we're tired of waiting to find out.

Finally Moving?

Now that a new addition to the family is on the way, we've decided to bite the bullet and move our stuff across the country. Besides, David has acquired a roll-back, and we'll be here until March. The bare minimum lifestyle is starting to get a little old, and some furniture would be really nice. We just haven't quite figured out how we're going to make it happen.

We're strongly considering a DITY move with PODS, but apparently that requires attendance at a DITY move class which will be inconvenient for him to attend (i.e. missing regular class). There is the option of a "home of record" move, which would sound great if I had some confidence that our things wouldn't be stolen or destroyed before they reached us. Apparently military movers ain't what they used to be. Maybe losing a few dozen plates and knocking the heads off a few statues is an acceptable sacrifice for acquiring an actual bed with legs? Otherwise we'll be putting the baby down to sleep in a plastic laundry basket.

Whatever

I tried calling the DMV again, this time by a different number, actually got hold of a real person after holding for a half hour (a half hour of Tracfone minutes) and got the same trained monkey answer about how they can't help me unless I hop on a plane and visit them in person. I was just about ready to give up on the whole thing, but David's chain of command is baffled by the problem and determined to look into it themselves. I would dearly love to know what they turn up.

We were also supposed to obtain the last bit of official paperwork for his BAH yesterday, but when we turned up for our appointment at Fleet and Family, the guy we were supposed to see had already gone home sick some time ago. Nobody thought to call us. Apparently they're going to try working us into the schedule today. We shall see.

We're debating whether or not to bother moving our stuff at all. We're so tired of arranging things that it just seems easier to extend our domestic survival camp for the next eight months. It would certainly save us the trouble of moving away from here. It shouldn't be too bad, but I don't feel like much of a homemaker.

In Brief

Long story short, we have a house, it's almost a real home despite being all but entirely empty, and its great to finally have a place to live together.

Most of the rest of the mundane details I'd prefer not to remember.

The paperwork remains a huge nightmare. We're working it out slowly, but apparently not soon enough. I finally did get my name changed today. When I tried doing that Friday, it turned out that the office no longer existed at that particular location. I know I'll probably have to drive to Salinas again at some point, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Now that it has been dealt with, we can focus on the housing allowance mess, the insurance mess, the driver's license mess, the car registration mess, and the moving mess.

Yeah, apparently the military won't move our stuff to this particular location, especially since we're Navy types. But if we ask the right person, they might give us some money to arrange it ourselves. In any case, that's not a huge priority right now. We'll get to it eventually.