Green below, gray skies above. Coolest little random park off the highway.
You know what stinks? Moving. The packing, the cleaning, the goodbyes. But you know what I love? That in recounting any bit of my crazy, fast, and always-drawing-the-short-end-of-the-stick move to my military or military spouse friends, I always get a "dang, that does suck" instead of a "whelp, this is what we signed up for!" Signing up for things may mean that Thomas knows the gist of what's going to happen. Marrying Thomas means that I'm along for the ride. But it doesn't make it any easier, you know? And I know that it's really okay to be frustrated about what's going on.
We are under contract for a house, and we are very grateful. But nope, I won't be sharing any pictures because the deal is far from done. When it is, I'll blow your mind with photos of this swank 80's masterpiece (he he). So we are 3,000 miles away, trying to read inspection reports and make very big, very expensive decisions from afar.
Backing up, a bit: we spent a week out in Washington last week (see above). We flew out at the last minute, and went on a whirlwind of a tour of the area we will be living in. We looked at well over 15 homes in 36 hours and made a decision the next day. We spent a few days signing contracts and finalizing some things before catching a red-eye and flying back to our baby girl. Then my milk stopped flowing.
I know, you're thinking Hold up. What? To make a long story short (and I may write about this later): Margaret had an epic slumber party with the grandparents while we were gone. I hauled 2 (!!) breast pumps out to Washington to keep my milk supply up - pumping in airports, parking lots, and hotels (bless the women who do that daily- I am beyond impressed). But despite all of that work, I came back home with major supply issues. I'm probably producing about 40% of what I was. Maybe even less. I can only feed Margaret in the morning and maybe at night. After going strong for ten months, it is incredibly disheartening and sad. It makes me cry. It has nothing to do with formula (which, praise be, she has taken to with few issues). It has everything to do with not ending this on my terms or Margaret's terms. As far as increasing my supply- I try to let Margaret nurse as much as I can, I started drinking mother's milk tea, and am praying hard. It's just not as flexible as it once was.
Summertime is a huge military moving season, so our move date has gotten pushed further back than we would like. We are still trying to figure out the best way to handle everything. We wanted to avoid moving ourselves, but we will have to see what happens. I don't like to speak ill of the Navy/my husband's employer, but suffice it to say that things are and have been rough for the past month. Certain things have not been handled properly and we are suffering as a result. That's all I will say.
That being said, it will be okay. People have done moves on shorter notice and a further distance, and we will handle this one just fine. Maybe not with the grace I would like to have all the time, but most of the time, that's what I'm going for. We will be fine. We are stressed and short-tempered and tired and over-worked and beat but we will be fine.
I know. I took a picture of my food. Know that it pained me to do so.
Also know that it was insanely freakin' good. (@Matt's in the Market)
In good news, we might have just the teeny, tiniest, littlest bit of excitement about moving out to the Pacific Northwest in a few weeks. It is insanely beautiful out there and everyone we met was just so kind and friendly. Thomas did try to order sweet tea the first day (didn't pan out so well), and there's no Chick-fil-a, but the seafood is pretty spectacular and we can make our own tea.
Look at me, being all optimistic.