If we haven’t hung that picture within the first 6 months, there is absolutely no reason to try and put it up!
So we have moved 3 times in the past 3 years and our 4th move is approaching fast! That’s a lot right?! Is it a good thing a bad thing? We don’t know. We don’t know if it will have a lasting negative impact on the children or not. I am not from a military family and neither is my husband, so we have never had to experience this kind of change. We are just trying to do our best and make the right decisions for our family at that particular moment in time.
We asked the children this time whether we should move as a family or choose to just see him at weekends. The result was split! One wanted to go and the other wanted to stay and they were both adamant that their choice was the right one. Both had equal valid reasons for wanting to go or stay and at times I was crying inside, but composed on the outside. Ultimately one was disappointed, which was and still is heart-breaking.
So when the words, ‘we need to start thinking about moving days’ are uttered, what are the feelings that rush through your body? For me I insistently feel a resistance to answer the question, because I do not want to accept the reality of another imminent move. I put off answering the question for as long as possible. Honestly, I believe it normally takes about 5-6 months to really get used to a new location, find friends, create a social life and become settled into ‘community life’. So when the realisation hits and you look at the calendar and you can count on one hand the amount of months left, the dread I feel at having to start from scratch again consumes me.
So you start to make ‘a to-do list’, you look at the boxes that still haven’t been unpacked since the last move (or the one before that) and panic starts to set in. I start to panic thinking about the places I still haven’t been to, which we said we would explore but haven’t. I look at the diary and realise that there aren’t many weekends left which are free to go and visit. I panic about the people I said we would catch-up with but haven’t.
The to-do list includes things to cancel, post to re-direct, companies you’re going to spend hours on the phone with, changing the address on your driving licence, finding doctors, children’s clubs, school places, the list is endless ….. So it comes as no surprise that I do not jump for joy when the posting notice finally arrives!
It’s a really silly thing, but someone asked me at a dinner I attended recently where I’m from originally. I have quite a strong London accent, I try to put on my ‘posh’ voice, but after a drink or two my accent becomes stronger. I don’t burst into full cockney slang or anything like that, but it is really clear as to where I’m from. And it got me thinking. When someone asks our children in the future where they are from, what will they tell them? They don’t remember the place they were born or the home they were raised in. My daughter’s accent is a mixture of northern, London with a Canadian twang at the moment! Am I the only one worrying about this sense of belonging?
The next chapter will begin shortly, and we are looking forward to being closer to family and old friends. Nothing beats a good Sunday roast cooked by family!
So moving house isn’t just as simple as the physical moving of ‘stuff’, it’s the emotional turmoil that comes with it.