Nothing will take you screaming back to your own childhood like having a little girl. I know girls can be mean. I experienced it. I remember in first grade, I had two best friends, and invariably two of the three of us would pair up and the third would get left out. I distinctly remember that it was a big deal when it was your turn to be cafeteria helper and the designated cafeteria helper got to pick one friend to help her. I never got picked to be the other person. And, yet, when it was my turn to be the designated helper, if I didn't pick this one friend, she wouldn't speak to me for days. That was thirty-three years ago and I still remember it well.
The other most significant time I remember was in third grade- I had moved to a different town in second grade and by third grade was really making friends. One day on the playground, I was sitting under a tree, drawing in the dirt, with a friend and two other girls came skipping by and started calling me a baby. I had no idea why they were picking on me, but it upset me and I began to cry, which just resulted in them calling me a baby more. Fast forward a few weeks and another friend of mine was having a slumber party and invited me to come. I was looking forward to it until I found out that the two girls that were picking on me would be in attendance. At first I wasn't going to go, but then my best friend- the one that had been sitting under the tree with me- was going and she assured me that we could hang out and ignore the other two if they got nasty.
The night of the party arrived and I showed up with sleeping bag in hand. I found out upon arrival that my best friend had fallen ill and would not be there. My mother had already left, so I went in and tried to have fun. Everything was going fine- the other two girls were avoiding me altogether- until the parents went to bed. At that point, the two mean girls got on the couch and invited everyone up with them, except for me. When I tried to sit on the couch, they scooted over and told me there was no room. So- I sat there in the middle of the living room floor, while they played a fun little game. One person on the couch would come up with a fact about me and whisper it down the line until the last person said it out loud and everyone laughed hysterically. It was things like, "Jennifer is a baby.", "Jennifer has fat thighs." ( I was NINE- do we have fat thighs at nine??), "Jennifer is so ugly." You get the picture. I tried so hard not to cry. I didn't want them to call me a baby again, but I finally ran from the living room in tears while they laughed. And I called my mom to come pick me up. That, of course, made everything worse. And to add insult to injury, while I didn't know what they told the parents the next morning when I wasn't there, I know it wasn't the truth, because I was informed by the girl that hosted the party that her parents were very angry that I went home and I was not welcome at their house anymore.
It never occurred to me when I had kids that I would have to face this again. And that it would hurt so much worse when it was my kid going through these things.
I got lucky. I had a son first. Boys pick and tease, but quickly get over it. I have had a few minor incidents with Noah, but nothing major. The most memorable involved a GIRL.
Noah has an August birthday. That means he is always one of the younger kids in his class. I volunteered to help his class during Field Day when he was in Kindergarten and there was one particular little girl that had hit a massive growth spurt and was a whole head taller than Noah. By the time they had Field Day, all the kids in Kindergarten had turned six. All except for Noah and one other little girl in his class with an August birthday. And this other mean girl kept isolating them. I heard her on a few occasions say things like, "All the six-year-olds can come stand over here by me, but the BABY FIVE-YEAR-OLDS have to stay over there!"
I have never wanted to badly to punch a child in my life.
That is until two days ago.
Noah has started school here already but Zoe doesn't start until next week, so she and I have had a lot of mommy/daughter time. Since we are still in temporary lodging, we are limited on our entertainment options. It was beautiful outside, so I took her out to the playground. There were two other kids playing.
As soon as I sat on the bench, Zoe was beside me saying, "I tried to play on the slide, but that kid said, 'Here comes the bad guy!' and I am NOT the bad guy. But she keeps saying it!" I told her she didn't have to play with them if she didn't want to and to just go slide and ignore them.
I watched as she hesitantly headed over to the slide. She climbed up and one kid screamed, "Bad guy!" and they scampered away. Zoe looked a little crestfallen, but proceeded to slide down the slide and mind her own business. And then, the other little girl who looked about Zoe's age (and whose mother was sitting RIGHT THERE watching all this) walked up to Zoe, cocked her head and (to the tune of nanny nanny boo boo) said, "Ha Ha Ha Ha Haaaa Haaa!" Zoe ignored her and she ran off. But every time she passed Zoe, if Zoe would glance her way, she would either stick her tongue out at Zoe or hum her little taunting tune.
The mother did nothing.
All of my previous childhood incidents like this came screaming back at me, and I hurt so badly for her. I know she was just wondering what she did to warrant this response from this kid.
Finally, afraid that I was going to get arrested for punching a five-year-old in the mouth, I called Zoe and we left the playground.
With the promise that I would play a game with her in the room and we would come back later.
When the Mean Girls were gone.
(I don't know how I am going to make it through the teen years- she is just in Kindergarten!)
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Thursday, August 30, 2012
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Ye Olde Numerology
Since arriving here, I have learned that if you ask a local how far it is to any place in particular, the answer is invariably, "Twelve miles." Seriously. We have been told it is twelve miles from RAF Lakenheath to RAF Feltwell. It is twelve miles from RAF Feltwell (where the elementary school my kids will attend is located) to the village where we will live. It is also twelve miles from the village to Brandon- the closest bigger town with amenities. I haven't actually measured any of these distances, it is just what I have been told.
I suspected that "twelve miles" was just a standard guesstimate. That way, they aren't lying to you- they want you to know it is more than ten miles, but don't want to put you off by having you think it is as far away as fifteen miles.
Today, we were in the middle of Newmarket and after running our errand there, we decided to find a place to go visit. I pulled out the GPS and searched under "attractions/historical" and found three pages of items listed in various directions as, you guessed it, twelve miles away. So, even the GPS is in on the little joke. Cheeky little electronic device.
(It is hard to take a picture with your phone while riding down bumpy, windy English roads, so the picture is blurry, but this was just one page of three full pages all with the same distance)
We finally decided to go a bit farther and picked Framlingham Castle, which was actually forty-six miles away. Even the wiliest of GPS devices could not pull off the twelve mile rule here, so it just gave up and told us the truth: that while only forty-six miles away, it was going to take us over an hour to get there. And it did.
The twelve mile conversation forgotten, we thoroughly enjoyed Framilingham Castle- especially me and my history-loving, nerdy self. I was walking around reading all the plaques regarding the history of the place when I wandered upon this little gem:
I tried googling to see if there was some significance to this- you know, some sort of Roman conspiracy or something, but found nothing. Am I the only one to notice this?
And so, after only three weeks here, I feel that "twelve miles" is going to be our running gag while we are here. It has become my mission to take a photo or log every time someone tells me or I see a sign indicating that something is "twelve miles away".
Until next time- if you need me, I will be hanging out in the pub in the next village over.
It is twelve miles away.
I suspected that "twelve miles" was just a standard guesstimate. That way, they aren't lying to you- they want you to know it is more than ten miles, but don't want to put you off by having you think it is as far away as fifteen miles.
Today, we were in the middle of Newmarket and after running our errand there, we decided to find a place to go visit. I pulled out the GPS and searched under "attractions/historical" and found three pages of items listed in various directions as, you guessed it, twelve miles away. So, even the GPS is in on the little joke. Cheeky little electronic device.
(It is hard to take a picture with your phone while riding down bumpy, windy English roads, so the picture is blurry, but this was just one page of three full pages all with the same distance)
We finally decided to go a bit farther and picked Framlingham Castle, which was actually forty-six miles away. Even the wiliest of GPS devices could not pull off the twelve mile rule here, so it just gave up and told us the truth: that while only forty-six miles away, it was going to take us over an hour to get there. And it did.
The twelve mile conversation forgotten, we thoroughly enjoyed Framilingham Castle- especially me and my history-loving, nerdy self. I was walking around reading all the plaques regarding the history of the place when I wandered upon this little gem:
I tried googling to see if there was some significance to this- you know, some sort of Roman conspiracy or something, but found nothing. Am I the only one to notice this?
And so, after only three weeks here, I feel that "twelve miles" is going to be our running gag while we are here. It has become my mission to take a photo or log every time someone tells me or I see a sign indicating that something is "twelve miles away".
Until next time- if you need me, I will be hanging out in the pub in the next village over.
It is twelve miles away.
**linking up with Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop- prompt #3 "What makes you smile?" The answer would be, "finding the humor in all situations, especially considering this move has been very difficult on us"
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Perception
Since this move is just totally sucking eggs, let me lighten the mood with a little story that happened on the other side of the pond before we left the US.
It was moving day and there were four movers at my house, all extremely friendly and chatty. As I flitted from room to room making sure they took the right things, didn't pack the wrong things and checking they didn't need water or anything, I would pause in each room for a few and strike up a conversation with each guy.
Guy-in-my-living-room was one of my favorite. He was hilarious and kept picking on me because I guess he and his wife had wanted to rent our house, but when they called the realtor, they found it had already been rented. Now that he was inside, he kept going on and on about how nice it was and how he would sure like to rent it. We talked about the neighborhood, the township, his kids, my kids, etc. After awhile, I felt like I knew him. But nothing let me know him like this one small moment that totally re-defined my perception of him.
He had just pulled my bookcase away from the wall and was wrapping the edges and corners so they didn't get chipped. He flipped it over on it's side to wrap it in bubble wrap and promptly jumped back in a panic.
"Do you have a paper towel!!??", he practically shrieked.
I was standing half in the kitchen, half in the living room and did not have a proper view as to what he was looking at.
"Sure, just let me..."
"...because you've just got a nest of spiders here! Yes, A NEST OF SPIDERS!"
I could hear the panic rising in his voice, bordering on hysteria.
Now, let's pause for a moment and discuss this.
I live in the woods. We have bugs. We have spiders. I do clean fairly regularly and was puzzled as to how an entire nest of spiders developed without my knowledge, but it was the corner of the living room where there is a crack in the foundation and also where the dog's bed had been. Perhaps, I had just overlooked it.
Now, when you hear the term, "nest of spiders", what you do you envision?
Because I saw in my mind's eye a huge, elaborate web with a massive spider and her forty bazillion babies crawling all over the place a la Charlotte's Web.
I also knew that even though he asked for a paper towel, that based on his reaction and the fact he was half a breath from dancing on a chair screaming like those Tom and Jerry cartoons where the woman in an apron is standing on the kitchen chair screaming over a mouse, it was going to be ME and not him that was going to have to take care of the "spider nest".
I don't like spiders either. They creep me out with all their legs. But, as a military wife, I don't always have the luxury of having someone else kill it for me. Heck, I usually don't even want to wait until my husband gets home in the evening lest I lose the sucker and then not know where he is in the house. Leaving the spider for later almost always conjures an image in my head of the spider growing ten sizes bigger in just minutes (like the Grinch's heart when he finds Christmas), crawling across the ceiling above my bed and then falling into my open, sleeping mouth. Is that just me?
Alright, I digress.
So.... I am mentally preparing for this scenario where I am going to have to kill a spider and her millions of bratty offspring with nothing but a paper towel while a six foot, two hundred and fifty pound black man dances, screaming on my tv cabinet.
I grab a paper towel, walk over to where this man is staring in complete and utter horror and peek around the corner of the bookshelf.
What I found was not a spider, not her offspring, but just that sticky cobwebby stuff stuck to the corner. No spider, no babies, just some dust, a dead fly and an ant or two stuck in the sticky cobweb.
I calmly wiped it away with my hand and walked away.
Man-in-my-living-room said, "Wow! You aren't scared of spiders!!?"
And I puffed up my chest, smiled and said, "No! Spiders don't scare me!!"
I think I won his respect.
And he totally lost his cool points with me.
It was moving day and there were four movers at my house, all extremely friendly and chatty. As I flitted from room to room making sure they took the right things, didn't pack the wrong things and checking they didn't need water or anything, I would pause in each room for a few and strike up a conversation with each guy.
Guy-in-my-living-room was one of my favorite. He was hilarious and kept picking on me because I guess he and his wife had wanted to rent our house, but when they called the realtor, they found it had already been rented. Now that he was inside, he kept going on and on about how nice it was and how he would sure like to rent it. We talked about the neighborhood, the township, his kids, my kids, etc. After awhile, I felt like I knew him. But nothing let me know him like this one small moment that totally re-defined my perception of him.
He had just pulled my bookcase away from the wall and was wrapping the edges and corners so they didn't get chipped. He flipped it over on it's side to wrap it in bubble wrap and promptly jumped back in a panic.
"Do you have a paper towel!!??", he practically shrieked.
I was standing half in the kitchen, half in the living room and did not have a proper view as to what he was looking at.
"Sure, just let me..."
"...because you've just got a nest of spiders here! Yes, A NEST OF SPIDERS!"
I could hear the panic rising in his voice, bordering on hysteria.
Now, let's pause for a moment and discuss this.
I live in the woods. We have bugs. We have spiders. I do clean fairly regularly and was puzzled as to how an entire nest of spiders developed without my knowledge, but it was the corner of the living room where there is a crack in the foundation and also where the dog's bed had been. Perhaps, I had just overlooked it.
Now, when you hear the term, "nest of spiders", what you do you envision?
Because I saw in my mind's eye a huge, elaborate web with a massive spider and her forty bazillion babies crawling all over the place a la Charlotte's Web.
I also knew that even though he asked for a paper towel, that based on his reaction and the fact he was half a breath from dancing on a chair screaming like those Tom and Jerry cartoons where the woman in an apron is standing on the kitchen chair screaming over a mouse, it was going to be ME and not him that was going to have to take care of the "spider nest".
I don't like spiders either. They creep me out with all their legs. But, as a military wife, I don't always have the luxury of having someone else kill it for me. Heck, I usually don't even want to wait until my husband gets home in the evening lest I lose the sucker and then not know where he is in the house. Leaving the spider for later almost always conjures an image in my head of the spider growing ten sizes bigger in just minutes (like the Grinch's heart when he finds Christmas), crawling across the ceiling above my bed and then falling into my open, sleeping mouth. Is that just me?
Alright, I digress.
So.... I am mentally preparing for this scenario where I am going to have to kill a spider and her millions of bratty offspring with nothing but a paper towel while a six foot, two hundred and fifty pound black man dances, screaming on my tv cabinet.
I grab a paper towel, walk over to where this man is staring in complete and utter horror and peek around the corner of the bookshelf.
What I found was not a spider, not her offspring, but just that sticky cobwebby stuff stuck to the corner. No spider, no babies, just some dust, a dead fly and an ant or two stuck in the sticky cobweb.
I calmly wiped it away with my hand and walked away.
Man-in-my-living-room said, "Wow! You aren't scared of spiders!!?"
And I puffed up my chest, smiled and said, "No! Spiders don't scare me!!"
I think I won his respect.
And he totally lost his cool points with me.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Chaos Family and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad PCS
So- we have just moved. We are still in temporary lodging and our furniture and things have not arrived yet, so there is really not a sense of normalcy and I am hoping everything magically gets better once all of that stuff stabilizes, but so far, I believe that just about everything that could have gone wrong on this PCS, has.
Really. it all started with the late notice of assignment. I am told that, typically when receiving an overseas assignment, people get six to eight months notice. We got three and a half. What that meant was we had a lot less time to do all of the things we had to do before they could cut our official orders. We needed the orders before we could even schedule plane tickets or movers. The time frame for getting our government passports and visas was very tight, but it managed to work out.
We finally got our orders cut the first week of July and were able to start trying to schedule things. We found a renter for our home really early and thought that was a good sign. She signed a two year lease and seemed very enthusiastic about renting our house. She also seemed very responsible and like she would really take care of the place while we were gone. When she rented, we had to provide a move-in date, so we tentatively said August 1. We requested our movers come around July 20, but the company called and because of our late notice, they couldn't squeeze us in until August 1. That meant we had to amend our lease agreement with the tenant to move in August 4 which caused a host of other issues like pro-rating rent and such.
The movers were scheduled to pick up our small shipment that goes by air (unaccompanied baggage) on July 27 and our big shipment AND our items going to long-term storage on July 31 and August 1. Meanwhile, mid- July, we found someone to buy our mini van. Things were really falling into place at this point.
On July 14, the girl that wanted the minivan said they were interested in buying it but her husband was on a short TDY and wouldn't be back until the 29th. We expressed our concern because we were leaving the country on the 5th, but they insisted they wanted the van, we agreed on a price and we were told that they would come by the day after he returned and purchase the van.
On July 22, the weekend before everything was supposed to start happening, my father-in-law unexpectedly passed away. My husband had to take emergency leave to go home and the kids and I had to stay behind because of the scheduled obligations we had with the move. I imagine it could have all been delayed based on the circumstances, but if we had delayed the movers, it would have been another three or four weeks and then my husband would have missed his report date. So, we left that as is and I stayed behind to deal with it.
The guy that was buying our van came back on the 29th and as promised, came to our house the 30th, test drove the van, told my husband he loved it, he wanted it, but he didn't have the money. He said he was waiting for his travel money to come in from his previous trip and it should be in that week. DJ expressed his concern stating that he led us to believe he would be purchasing the van that day and never said he did not have the money and that we would be leaving the country that following weekend. The guy just said he would be in touch and left. The next day, on Tuesday, he gave us a deposit of $2000 so that we would not sell the van to someone else as we had expressed our urgent need to get rid of it and the fact that we had held it for the past two weeks for him.
My husband was back before the big move date, but the base then insisted that in order to do his final out processing, he had to take his PT test on the first day of our movers and go do M-16 training all day on the second day of the movers. He asked if he could get out of the training since it is not necessary for his assignment and it was interfering with the move and they told him no. It is often suggested that both people be present for the movers, because there are four or five guys packing quickly and you need someone going around each room and outside to make sure they pack everything, pack it well and answer any question they might have. It was total chaos when the long-term storage guys showed up at the same time as the movers and it was just me there. I was running around with everyone asking me questions and me needed to be in about four places at once.
That afternoon, while in the second half of M-16 training, a thunderstorm rolled in and they cancelled it and sent them home with instructions that they had to be back the following day at 1. My husband was supposed to take the car we were shipping overseas to the port that day while I did a walk-though with our tenant. After about a million phone calls, he determined he was given wrong information and he did NOT have to take that training course and he basically wasted half a day. So- the following day, he took the car to the port and I did some cleaning of the house as well as the walk-through with the tenant.
We knew that since our things were all packed, we would need temporary lodging or a hotel starting that night, so earlier in the day, Thursday, I ran over to the lodging office to talk to them. When we had called three weeks earlier to reserve a room, we were told they didn't have one and we would just have to show up on that day and see if they had an opening. They did not and told me I would have to go off-base to a hotel they use about 15 miles away. I expressed my concern because our car was being dropped off at the port that day and we still thought we were selling the minivan any day. I had no idea how we were going to get around. At that moment, there was a cancellation and he told me I was very lucky and assigned me the room. I was so thankful! I took the keys and the room assignment with me back to our house and we finished up cleaning around 11pm. We loaded all our luggage in the van and drove over to lodging, unloaded the luggage onto a luggage cart and walked, exhausted from cleaning, down the hall to our room, where we discovered someone else in it.
My husband walked across the street to the lodging office where he showed them the keys and paper with room assignment we were given and was told that the guy that assigned the room to me must have forgotten to put it in the system, so essentially, they gave our room away. And now they were full and there was nothing they could do. It was 11:30, my kids were exhausted and we had nowhere to stay. The guy insisted it was no big deal, he would call the hotel off-base (the one 15 miles away) and so he did only to learn they were full too. At that point, the military lodging fabulous customer service told my husband they were sorry but there was nothing they could do. We would have to drive around and find a place ourselves. When my husband refused to accept that, they offered us a room on a nearby base, but it was supposed to be for adults only, had only a double bed and no beds for the kids. He said the kids would have to sleep on the floor. I decided we were NOT paying for kids to sleep on the floor, and if people were sleeping on the floor, we would do it in our own house for free. So, we drove back to our house, pulled the mattresses down (thankfully they were not packed yet) and slept with couch pillows as pillows and no blankets. We were so exhausted it didn't matter.
On Friday, my husband still had to run around doing all of the final out things that he had not had time to do previously and I continued cleaning the house. We still did not hear from the guy that wanted our van and tried to call several times with no answer. I cleaned until almost midnight and then we walked away from the house for the last time before our tenant moved in on Saturday.
On Saturday, we just hung out in our lodging room resting because we were exhausted from the previous week. We still didn't hear from the guy about the van.
Sunday was the say we were getting on a plane. We had to vacate our room by 11am as they didn't do late checkout. But, our flight wasn't until 10pm that night, so we kind of flitted between friends' houses throughout the day to keep us occupied. Sunday afternoon, DJ got in touch with the guy that wanted the van and he said he didn't have the money yet but still wanted the van. We had to leave the van, the title and a power of attorney with one of DJ's buddies to handle it. Sunday evening, we got on a plane and left the US.
Since arriving in England, it has been a whirlwind of emotions. We got right into our lodging room and found a house to rent rather quickly. But we found out that our small shipment that was supposed to be here in two weeks and that I put the kids' backpacks, lunch boxes and school supplies in was going to actually take about a month to get here. And the big shipment would take two months.
DJ got in touch with the guy that wanted the van again who said he would have his money by the end of this week, but then just randomly mentioned that he was now going through a costly legal custody battle. I was wondering if his random proclamation was a pre-cursor to something.
The cost of all of the little things we have to pay for here is quickly adding up and although we will eventually be reimbursed for most of it, it will take another few weeks before we get that money back. In the meantime, it is painful on the savings account. We had also been counting on the sale of the van money to help us out so we could buy a British vehicle and stop having to pay weekly rental fees for a rental car.
Tuesday, we got an email from our property manager that our tenant back in the states had an emergency hornet situation over the weekend and since it was an emergency, they didn't require any consult with us about it, so she just called and exterminator out over the weekend and it would cost $200.
Now, when we set the rent for the house, we set it at $450 over our mortgage payment with the intent of leaving the extra in that account for repairs should they arise. Well, remember when I said they had to prorate the payment? Well, here is how that went down:
She paid a $2000 deposit that went to the realtor, we didn't see any of that money. She moved in August 4, but they had her pay full month's rent for August because the first month's rent is their fee for finding the tenant in the first place. They also take 10% out each month for the property management fee- which is $150. They pro-rated September's rent for those 4 days which cut the rent by about $200. Now, when they take the additional $200 out of the rent for the exterminator, we will not have enough money to even pay our mortgage for September. And we are no longer receiving housing allowance based on New Jersey, so part of September's mortgage payment will be coming out of our already dwindling savings too.
Yesterday, we found that our house failed inspection. The base has to go inspect it before they will let us live in it. But, it should be a fairly simple fix, so hopefully it is fixed soon and we can arrange to move in.
Today, our friend back in the States got in touch with the guy with the van and this time he said that he might not have the money to complete the purchase because of the costly legal battle, but he won't know until next week. At this point, we are screwed. We held it for them, we have no way of selling it to anyone else and the quickest and easiest way for us to get rid of it is to have his friend drive it to a nearby car sense where they will give us $1600- $2000 less than we were supposed to get for the private sale, so they can turn around and sell it for profit. We will lose so much money on it and it puts us in a bind not having that money in savings.
I know I love England. I loved it before, it is just so difficult this time around. Granted the majority of all our stress is coming from Stateside. But it is about to break us. Financially, physically, mentally and spiritually.
There is no cell signal here. My mother tried to call me on my cell, but it dropped the call every time, so I gave her the room number. For some reason it is not working. Even DJ's friend who is here on a temporary trip tried calling it and it didn't work for him either. There is no wifi whatsoever. We have one little ethernet cable coming out of the wall and have to share the laptop.
DJ went out to see his buddy this evening because they haven't seen each other in over a year. I didn't mind it at all. Zoe was running 103.4 fever earlier today, so I didn't mind staying home with her. So, I ran to the commissary real quick before he left to get some things for a fun night in watching tv. And I swear on all that is holy, at 9:00 pm, the cable went out. It is still out.
And I can only laugh.
Or cry.
Sometimes both at the same time.
Really. it all started with the late notice of assignment. I am told that, typically when receiving an overseas assignment, people get six to eight months notice. We got three and a half. What that meant was we had a lot less time to do all of the things we had to do before they could cut our official orders. We needed the orders before we could even schedule plane tickets or movers. The time frame for getting our government passports and visas was very tight, but it managed to work out.
We finally got our orders cut the first week of July and were able to start trying to schedule things. We found a renter for our home really early and thought that was a good sign. She signed a two year lease and seemed very enthusiastic about renting our house. She also seemed very responsible and like she would really take care of the place while we were gone. When she rented, we had to provide a move-in date, so we tentatively said August 1. We requested our movers come around July 20, but the company called and because of our late notice, they couldn't squeeze us in until August 1. That meant we had to amend our lease agreement with the tenant to move in August 4 which caused a host of other issues like pro-rating rent and such.
The movers were scheduled to pick up our small shipment that goes by air (unaccompanied baggage) on July 27 and our big shipment AND our items going to long-term storage on July 31 and August 1. Meanwhile, mid- July, we found someone to buy our mini van. Things were really falling into place at this point.
On July 14, the girl that wanted the minivan said they were interested in buying it but her husband was on a short TDY and wouldn't be back until the 29th. We expressed our concern because we were leaving the country on the 5th, but they insisted they wanted the van, we agreed on a price and we were told that they would come by the day after he returned and purchase the van.
On July 22, the weekend before everything was supposed to start happening, my father-in-law unexpectedly passed away. My husband had to take emergency leave to go home and the kids and I had to stay behind because of the scheduled obligations we had with the move. I imagine it could have all been delayed based on the circumstances, but if we had delayed the movers, it would have been another three or four weeks and then my husband would have missed his report date. So, we left that as is and I stayed behind to deal with it.
The guy that was buying our van came back on the 29th and as promised, came to our house the 30th, test drove the van, told my husband he loved it, he wanted it, but he didn't have the money. He said he was waiting for his travel money to come in from his previous trip and it should be in that week. DJ expressed his concern stating that he led us to believe he would be purchasing the van that day and never said he did not have the money and that we would be leaving the country that following weekend. The guy just said he would be in touch and left. The next day, on Tuesday, he gave us a deposit of $2000 so that we would not sell the van to someone else as we had expressed our urgent need to get rid of it and the fact that we had held it for the past two weeks for him.
My husband was back before the big move date, but the base then insisted that in order to do his final out processing, he had to take his PT test on the first day of our movers and go do M-16 training all day on the second day of the movers. He asked if he could get out of the training since it is not necessary for his assignment and it was interfering with the move and they told him no. It is often suggested that both people be present for the movers, because there are four or five guys packing quickly and you need someone going around each room and outside to make sure they pack everything, pack it well and answer any question they might have. It was total chaos when the long-term storage guys showed up at the same time as the movers and it was just me there. I was running around with everyone asking me questions and me needed to be in about four places at once.
That afternoon, while in the second half of M-16 training, a thunderstorm rolled in and they cancelled it and sent them home with instructions that they had to be back the following day at 1. My husband was supposed to take the car we were shipping overseas to the port that day while I did a walk-though with our tenant. After about a million phone calls, he determined he was given wrong information and he did NOT have to take that training course and he basically wasted half a day. So- the following day, he took the car to the port and I did some cleaning of the house as well as the walk-through with the tenant.
We knew that since our things were all packed, we would need temporary lodging or a hotel starting that night, so earlier in the day, Thursday, I ran over to the lodging office to talk to them. When we had called three weeks earlier to reserve a room, we were told they didn't have one and we would just have to show up on that day and see if they had an opening. They did not and told me I would have to go off-base to a hotel they use about 15 miles away. I expressed my concern because our car was being dropped off at the port that day and we still thought we were selling the minivan any day. I had no idea how we were going to get around. At that moment, there was a cancellation and he told me I was very lucky and assigned me the room. I was so thankful! I took the keys and the room assignment with me back to our house and we finished up cleaning around 11pm. We loaded all our luggage in the van and drove over to lodging, unloaded the luggage onto a luggage cart and walked, exhausted from cleaning, down the hall to our room, where we discovered someone else in it.
My husband walked across the street to the lodging office where he showed them the keys and paper with room assignment we were given and was told that the guy that assigned the room to me must have forgotten to put it in the system, so essentially, they gave our room away. And now they were full and there was nothing they could do. It was 11:30, my kids were exhausted and we had nowhere to stay. The guy insisted it was no big deal, he would call the hotel off-base (the one 15 miles away) and so he did only to learn they were full too. At that point, the military lodging fabulous customer service told my husband they were sorry but there was nothing they could do. We would have to drive around and find a place ourselves. When my husband refused to accept that, they offered us a room on a nearby base, but it was supposed to be for adults only, had only a double bed and no beds for the kids. He said the kids would have to sleep on the floor. I decided we were NOT paying for kids to sleep on the floor, and if people were sleeping on the floor, we would do it in our own house for free. So, we drove back to our house, pulled the mattresses down (thankfully they were not packed yet) and slept with couch pillows as pillows and no blankets. We were so exhausted it didn't matter.
On Friday, my husband still had to run around doing all of the final out things that he had not had time to do previously and I continued cleaning the house. We still did not hear from the guy that wanted our van and tried to call several times with no answer. I cleaned until almost midnight and then we walked away from the house for the last time before our tenant moved in on Saturday.
On Saturday, we just hung out in our lodging room resting because we were exhausted from the previous week. We still didn't hear from the guy about the van.
Sunday was the say we were getting on a plane. We had to vacate our room by 11am as they didn't do late checkout. But, our flight wasn't until 10pm that night, so we kind of flitted between friends' houses throughout the day to keep us occupied. Sunday afternoon, DJ got in touch with the guy that wanted the van and he said he didn't have the money yet but still wanted the van. We had to leave the van, the title and a power of attorney with one of DJ's buddies to handle it. Sunday evening, we got on a plane and left the US.
Since arriving in England, it has been a whirlwind of emotions. We got right into our lodging room and found a house to rent rather quickly. But we found out that our small shipment that was supposed to be here in two weeks and that I put the kids' backpacks, lunch boxes and school supplies in was going to actually take about a month to get here. And the big shipment would take two months.
DJ got in touch with the guy that wanted the van again who said he would have his money by the end of this week, but then just randomly mentioned that he was now going through a costly legal custody battle. I was wondering if his random proclamation was a pre-cursor to something.
The cost of all of the little things we have to pay for here is quickly adding up and although we will eventually be reimbursed for most of it, it will take another few weeks before we get that money back. In the meantime, it is painful on the savings account. We had also been counting on the sale of the van money to help us out so we could buy a British vehicle and stop having to pay weekly rental fees for a rental car.
Tuesday, we got an email from our property manager that our tenant back in the states had an emergency hornet situation over the weekend and since it was an emergency, they didn't require any consult with us about it, so she just called and exterminator out over the weekend and it would cost $200.
Now, when we set the rent for the house, we set it at $450 over our mortgage payment with the intent of leaving the extra in that account for repairs should they arise. Well, remember when I said they had to prorate the payment? Well, here is how that went down:
She paid a $2000 deposit that went to the realtor, we didn't see any of that money. She moved in August 4, but they had her pay full month's rent for August because the first month's rent is their fee for finding the tenant in the first place. They also take 10% out each month for the property management fee- which is $150. They pro-rated September's rent for those 4 days which cut the rent by about $200. Now, when they take the additional $200 out of the rent for the exterminator, we will not have enough money to even pay our mortgage for September. And we are no longer receiving housing allowance based on New Jersey, so part of September's mortgage payment will be coming out of our already dwindling savings too.
Yesterday, we found that our house failed inspection. The base has to go inspect it before they will let us live in it. But, it should be a fairly simple fix, so hopefully it is fixed soon and we can arrange to move in.
Today, our friend back in the States got in touch with the guy with the van and this time he said that he might not have the money to complete the purchase because of the costly legal battle, but he won't know until next week. At this point, we are screwed. We held it for them, we have no way of selling it to anyone else and the quickest and easiest way for us to get rid of it is to have his friend drive it to a nearby car sense where they will give us $1600- $2000 less than we were supposed to get for the private sale, so they can turn around and sell it for profit. We will lose so much money on it and it puts us in a bind not having that money in savings.
I know I love England. I loved it before, it is just so difficult this time around. Granted the majority of all our stress is coming from Stateside. But it is about to break us. Financially, physically, mentally and spiritually.
There is no cell signal here. My mother tried to call me on my cell, but it dropped the call every time, so I gave her the room number. For some reason it is not working. Even DJ's friend who is here on a temporary trip tried calling it and it didn't work for him either. There is no wifi whatsoever. We have one little ethernet cable coming out of the wall and have to share the laptop.
DJ went out to see his buddy this evening because they haven't seen each other in over a year. I didn't mind it at all. Zoe was running 103.4 fever earlier today, so I didn't mind staying home with her. So, I ran to the commissary real quick before he left to get some things for a fun night in watching tv. And I swear on all that is holy, at 9:00 pm, the cable went out. It is still out.
And I can only laugh.
Or cry.
Sometimes both at the same time.
Monday, August 13, 2012
"Don't Let a Suitcase Full of Cheese Become Your Big Fork and Spoon"
Have you seen the episode of Everybody Loves Raymond where Ray and Deborah have a standoff about who is going to unpack a suitcase? It sits on the landing to the stairs for a few weeks while they both wait for the other to unpack it. It becomes a hilarious standoff where Deborah finally sticks a wheel of cheese in the suitcase hoping to force Raymond to take it upstairs and unpack it. She tells Marie about this and Marie then tells her a story about the big fork and spoon on her kitchen wall she and Frank fought about years ago and how their presence remind her of the argument every time she passes them. She says, "Don't let a suitcase full of cheese become your big fork and spoon." Liberated by her own proclamation, Marie then proceeds to remove the fork and spoon from the wall only to discover a dust outline and she has to return them to their spot. When she mentions it to Frank, he remarks, "When did we get those?".
My point of this- the things that bother us as women, most men don't notice or care about.
So- what is my big fork and spoon? It isn't a seething-under-the-surface-anger kind of thing, but really more comical.
A few years after we bought our house in New Jersey, DJ renovated the kitchen- new tile, new sink, added more cabinets and a kitchen island. It was beautiful when he was done. The only thing- he removed the piece of trim under the kitchen window in order to replace the tile backsplash and, exhausted after finishing the tile and grout, didn't replace it. It was going to be such a quick thing- just cutting the trim to the length needed and nailing it in place- that he just left it to another day.
It was the last thing we did before walking away from our house.
My point of this- the things that bother us as women, most men don't notice or care about.
So- what is my big fork and spoon? It isn't a seething-under-the-surface-anger kind of thing, but really more comical.
A few years after we bought our house in New Jersey, DJ renovated the kitchen- new tile, new sink, added more cabinets and a kitchen island. It was beautiful when he was done. The only thing- he removed the piece of trim under the kitchen window in order to replace the tile backsplash and, exhausted after finishing the tile and grout, didn't replace it. It was going to be such a quick thing- just cutting the trim to the length needed and nailing it in place- that he just left it to another day.
Another month, another year- and the thing was never replaced. Because I am short, when I stood at the sink, it was right in my line of vision. Most people could not see it, but it was always in my sight driving me crazy with it's ugliness and sense of unfinished business.
(from my point of view while standing at the sink)
(It is like a long-running joke, appearing in all the family photos. Here is Naked Window posing with Noah during his wacky clothes day at school:)
Here is Naked Window posing for my photo that was to be added to the realtor site looking for renters:
Here is Naked Window photo-bombing my picture of my fall decor:
Naked Window is a sneaky little booger, even showing up in photos taken from the living room:
Here is Naked Window smiling for being included in Zoe's birthday photo last summer:
When we found out we received an overseas assignment, would have to move and therefore rent out our house, I thought the day had come that he would FINALLY put the trim in place. We spent two months touching up nail holes in the wall, touching up paint, repainting a few rooms, purging the house of a lot of things we did not need, doing a few silly minor things so it would pass the inspection for rental property and minor repairs.
And still no trim.
The movers picked up our furniture on Tuesday and Wednesday before we were supposed to turn the house over to our renter on Saturday. With the help of a friend, I spent Thursday and Friday cleaning the house from top to bottom while DJ honored all his military appointments and drove our car to be dropped off at the port for shipping overseas.
Still no trim.
Friday night, at about 11:00 pm, I finally finished the cleaning of the house, with mopping and sweeping the kitchen and living room and then rinsing out the kitchen sink I had been using for all the cleaning.
DJ inspected the grounds outside, made sure we had left nothing behind, took the last of the trash out for trash day the following day, and at 11:15pm, walked in the house with a piece of trim.
It was the last thing we did before walking away from our house.
Naked Window is finally clothed.
At least our tenant can enjoy it's completeness.
But then again, she probably won't even notice.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Yanks in the Motherland
If you missed it- we are in the middle of an overseas move. We arrived here on Monday afternoon and have spent the past week doing all the necessary things in order to process in here as well as try and find a place to live. Currently, we are in temporary lodging which has no wifi.
It has no wifi.
I know, right?
So- we have this one little plug of internet that comes from the wall which results in my husband and I fighting over the laptop all the time.
The good news is that we've found a house to rent- and it is two hundred years old! Very charming and has loads of history! Hopefully we can move in in two weeks and crossing our fingers our furniture follows shortly afterward. It is a typical English home with very small rooms and no closets in the bedrooms. I am not sure where our furniture is going to go (and we are coming from a small house- 1300 square foot- in the States) but, luckily we will have a two car garage and a cellar to stow the things that don't fit.
We loved England the last time we were stationed here and have always talked about coming back. And now we are here. Once we are settled in, I feel like this is going to be a great assignment. We are so excited. We just have to get over the jet lag. And get used not having a dishwasher or a laundry room. We will be doing laundry in the kitchen.
However- BONUS- are you ready for this? We have one and a HALF baths. TWO TOILETS! That is a huge improvement over our house in New Jersey!! No more dancing outside the door of the bathroom begging the person inside to hurry up while wondering how far your bladder can be pushed beyond it's limit.
See you soon!!
Cheers!
It has no wifi.
I know, right?
So- we have this one little plug of internet that comes from the wall which results in my husband and I fighting over the laptop all the time.
The good news is that we've found a house to rent- and it is two hundred years old! Very charming and has loads of history! Hopefully we can move in in two weeks and crossing our fingers our furniture follows shortly afterward. It is a typical English home with very small rooms and no closets in the bedrooms. I am not sure where our furniture is going to go (and we are coming from a small house- 1300 square foot- in the States) but, luckily we will have a two car garage and a cellar to stow the things that don't fit.
We loved England the last time we were stationed here and have always talked about coming back. And now we are here. Once we are settled in, I feel like this is going to be a great assignment. We are so excited. We just have to get over the jet lag. And get used not having a dishwasher or a laundry room. We will be doing laundry in the kitchen.
However- BONUS- are you ready for this? We have one and a HALF baths. TWO TOILETS! That is a huge improvement over our house in New Jersey!! No more dancing outside the door of the bathroom begging the person inside to hurry up while wondering how far your bladder can be pushed beyond it's limit.
See you soon!!
Cheers!
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