Next Thursday, that is. When the movers come and we move into a cushy hotel for our last week in Germany. Breakfast comes with the room and I can walk with Maddie to school every morning.
Moving is just plain stressful anyway. Add an international element to that and it ramps up a little more. And then since we live in a little ex-pat bubble here (away from poverty, hunger, disease and natural disasters), it always makes our problems seem like a bigger deal than they really are.
Emotions are running high all-round. Dads are adjusting to new jobs. Moms are trying to get houses ready for a move or just simply get packed for a summer trip to the states. Kids are either dealing with moving or with one or more of their friends moving. And to add to it for the older kids, one of the staff members at the high school died unexpectedly this week.
Skip is keeping a ridiculous schedule this week in England and then will be in three different countries over the first three days of next week. I've told him I have everything about the move under control on this end (perhaps a slight exaggeration) with the exception of his desk. I'm a little afraid of it. I mean, any work surface of mine has always been a disaster, but that's to be expected from me. When he has a real office, his desk is spotless, but somehow a "home office" is a different animal. Told him if he would just pull out the things he has to have, I can dump the rest of it into marked boxes before the movers come so all of it doesn't get scattered in with random other items.
Maddie's life continues to be one exciting experience after another. I honestly don't believe there is a person on earth whose life is better than hers, and I don't know that she would disagree with that assessment. Though she might add that there are those with more patient mothers.
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