“So I’ve been thinking: I really don’t feel like moving when I come back from Korea,” Tom said as we spoke over Skype.
I sipped my water. “That’s too bad,” I replied unsympathetically. He knew the drill: he’d come back from Korea in August and we’d move soon after.
“There might be a chance that I can take my R&R in June and move you guys. That way, I don’t have to worry about it when I get home,” Tom explained.
I froze. It was already May. I’d have to get the house ready for a move in a month? Did he forget how much STUFF we had? I know he had been gone for nine months but honestly, how could he forget the piles and piles of STUFF?
Weirdly, the next day, my phone rang and it was the housing office from Oklahoma, where we’re moving next.
She was calling to let me know she had a house for us. If we could get there in June.
I checked out the house…and people, there are walk in closets. Small, naturally, because it is military housing. But it’s a WALK IN CLOSET!
When Tom called on Skype I said, “I’m on board with the moving thing in June. So when will you be home?”
Tom chuckled. “It doesn’t work that easy.”
It was like he just spoke to me in Farsi. What did he mean it doesn’t work that easy? We had a house. With a walk in CLOSET.
“The military has to give me my orders to Oklahoma. And since my report no later than date is September, they might not want to do that,” Tom said.
THEN WHY BRING UP MOVING NEXT MONTH IN THE FIRST PLACE?
Here’s the thing though: moving next month would be beneficial to us. And not because of the walk in closet.
I looked it up and their school starts the second week of August.
If we went when Tom’s orders said, we’d probably get there late August, therefore the kids would miss school.
Also, Tommy has Aspergers and needs to get into a new schedule. Missing school panics him. If he misses all that school, he’d have a meltdown.
Tom explained this to the people who do the orders in Korea.
They don’t seem to care.
They keep saying, “You’re not a priority. People are leaving before you.”
Yes. We get that. But we have a special needs kid who needs to get on a schedule. We don’t want him to miss school.
And okay, I don’t want to give up my walk in closet.
Did I mention the house was brand new? Just built?
The people who do the orders in Korea keep giving Tom the run around. “We’ll find out something next week, blah, blah blah…”
I want to fly over and knock these people over their heads with my purse. What don’t they understand? If the person were a woman, surely she’d understand the importance of a walk in closet.
But mainly, we need to get Tommy situated. Otherwise they are more than welcome to deal with his meltdown.
Plus, plane tickets get more and more expensive by the day. The military does not pay for Tom’s R&R from Korea. So that’s $2000 that WE have to pay. And that number is slowly creeping up. It’s basically wiping out our savings account.
Tom is supposed to find something out this week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the Air Force helps us out.
In the meantime, I’ve been cleaning and organizing just in case we DO move next month.
This is not easy.
As I said, I have a lot of stuff. Tom does too. He has these ugly jackets that he won’t let me get rid of because his Dad bought them for him. And I can’t argue, because his Dad died of a heart attack in 2002. So if I’m like, “Your dad won’t mind if I toss the leather jacket,” that sounds cruel. I can’t say, “If you ever wear that neon colored Nascar jacket, I swear, I’ll point and laugh.”
I have stuff from high school. Notebooks and old French tests with frowny faces all over them because my French teacher was a gimlet who liked to scare me. She’d claim I wasn’t TRYING to speak her language and I swear, I was, but excuse me if it wasn’t computing in my brain.
I got trapped in our garage because of all our stuff. I had to shout for Tommy and his friend to dig me out.
I’ve been feeling slightly stressed. It’s horrible to not know what is going on.
“Explain to the Air Force that—” I began while talking to Tom on Skype.
“I’ve explained. They know. It’s just if they want to help us out,” Tom cut me off.
“Tom, I was trapped in our garage because I’m trying like mad to get this house organized. The military HAS to help us,” I grumbled. I stared down at my fingernails. They were all chipped and ruined because of all the cleaning I had been doing. Where did all the stuff come from? I never realized how much we had until I started to go through it all.
“I hope they will,” Tom said. I wish he’d get upset with me. Or passionate. Something. Instead he chomped on M&Ms and said he hoped to hear something on Monday.
“Tommy needs to start school on time. I need to enroll him,” I said. That was another thing: I had called the enrollment building in Oklahoma and was told it would be in our best interest to enroll the kids in June. Otherwise it gets packed in July and August.
“I know,” Tom replied.
“Our brand new house with the walk in closet! Could be gone. FOREVER,” I said dramatically. I tried to snap my finger for emphasis but no sound emerged. I suck at snapping.
“We’ll see what happens.”
That’s what I’m doing now in between cleaning and organizing.
Waiting to see what happens.
Keep your fingers crossed for us.