The Waiting Game

All I want for Christmas is an answer! And, I want it early.

Several weeks ago we found out that husband made the command selection board list.

Yep. With more than half of our boxes yet unpacked from the most recent PCS we learned we could very well be boxing everything up after less than a year here and moving again.

It was very bittersweet.

On the one hand, I am so proud of husband. On the other hand, we are really happy here. We have a great house in a great neighborhod. Husband has a short commute to work and works with good people. We have several old friends here and have made new friends. The girls are in an amazing school. They love their teachers, the priests, their classmates and they are thriving.

In a move quite uncharacteristic, I dived into getting things unpacked and sorted even though I toyed with the idea of just leaving things packed until we knew if we were moving again.

The impetus was twofold.

First, I do not want to move the enormous amount of crap we have into yet another house. It all fits in this house and we have room to sort and purge. The likelihood of having another house this large is very slim. Second, and most importantly, this will probably shake out to be the worst move in his career.

THE. WORST.

I really thought the damage and loss on our Maxwell AFB to Fairchild AFB PCS in our second year of marriage would never be topped. I was wrong. It is so disheartening to open a box and see the utter disregard the movers had for our belongings. So, I emptied, marvelled, wept and documented.

And, now, I may actually be more ready for a PCS than ever before. So, now we wait. We wait for the Air Force to decide if we get to stay put for a while or if we get to play Russian roullette with our belongings again in the next few months.

We should have an answer just before Christmas. I want Christmas to come early.