We interrupt this adventure for an important announcement.

My husband has this habit of beginning a statement with, "Well.  . . (pause)."  I know that whatever comes next could be as innocuous as, "I think we need new tires."  Or it could be as momentous as, "It looks like I'm going to Korea for a year." So I always hold my breath until he finishes the sentence.

A couple of weeks ago he came home from work and said, "Well. . . ." I immediately got a gut feeling that this was going to be a big 'well'.  It was.  The rest of that sentence was, "How would you feel about PCSing in September instead of next summer?"

Oh. My. Lanta.

That's really not a question I could answer as I was in shock. We were 11 days shy of our halfway point in a two year assignment. We had already made the hard decisions about who was homeschooling and public schooling and part-timing for next year now that we know the school and the options well. We've only visited about half the places we want to see - haven't even made it to Istanbul yet.  I am just now able to drive around Adana without breaking out in a cold sweat. We love our little neighborhood with its gang of little kids running amok and washing everyone's cars willy nilly. We are settled here.

My mother-in-law Robin used to say that every big change in life felt like being handed a sealed envelope. You have to rip it open and deal with what's inside. Here's a synopsis of our envelope's contents. Instead of being reviewed for a command position this fall and possibly being given one to begin next summer, Geoffrey was selected for a command position a year early. The position needs to be filled immediately but as we are overseas and the assignment isn't, we were given a few weeks to deal with all the details of moving back across the globe.  (Seriously, it feels like we just did this.)

So now its been a couple of weeks and I've had some processing time. We've told the kids to varied responses:
Brannick - overwhelming joy to be returning to the good ol' USA
Delaney - cried, but mostly from shock and is okay about it now
Carson - disappointed that he has to leave his friends
Evan - okay with it
Rory - completely non-reactive other than asking if they speak English where we are going

Resiliency is a word you hear discussed frequently in relation to military kids. Yeah, there's a reason for that.

But how do I feel? I'm very happy for Geoffrey and proud of him too. I'm excited to live close enough to family to go home for holidays and reunions and sisters weekends.  I'm glad for all the places we got to see and sad for the ones who won't have time for.  I am grateful for so many of the experiences we've had and the friends we've made. Living at Incirlik has been a completely unique experience in terms of being in a military community. I've never felt this sense of community anywhere else.  It was life in a small town as done by the Air Force.  I'm not sure we will find that again.

Of course, I'm also completely stressed about the logistics of making this move happen as we are going to have accomplish in days what most people take weeks and months to do. And since there's no option of sending our household goods and car 3 months ahead of us, we will be waiting that length of time on the other end for them to catch up with us. Bleh.  And the timing means that all five of them will need to homeschool this year since it will be well into the school year before we are permanently settled. Bleh. Bleh. 

I always tell people that I don't mind moving, except for the moving part.  If the Air Force had a giant finger snapping machine that could instantly transport us and all our things into our new house at our new assignment, I'd be willing to move once a year. But if such a machine exists it must still be classified and I see movers and paperwork and suitcases in my near future.

By Christmas we'll be settled again. It will all be good. A good assignment and a good location. Oh, did I forget to mention that part?  Well. . . . . viva Las Vegas!