We’re moving. I’ve known this for at least a couple of weeks, and as a possibility it’s been around for months, but Hubs and I are finally acknowledging the elephant in the room now. We told the kids over the weekend, and he’s giving three weeks’ notice at work today. And then he’ll be gone. He’s leaving, going ahead to start the new job, and hopefully he’ll be able to find us a place to live. The kids and I will be here a few more months and then we’ll join him. All of this is making me a nervous stressed-out wreck.
I have so many mixed emotions about the move. I think we’ll be moving to a great place, and his new job will be great for him – he’s excited about the work, his new colleagues, and the opportunity to do some new and exciting things. I love seeing his excitement, and I know that the kids and I will also find a lot of new wonderful experiences when we move. At the same time, however, we’ll be moving away from my family. Much closer to my in-laws (and I like them a
lot). I start tearing up whenever I think about being so far away from my grandmother, whose health is declining, who loves to see my kids almost every weekend. I feel tremendously guilty and worried when I think about her, and when I think about how close A and S are with my parents. They’ll miss seeing the kids almost every day, and vice versa, plus the fundamental routines of life will be changed for the kids. I worry about uprooting them, about how they will adjust.
I know that this move is a positive one for our family. Hubs and I have had lengthy discussions about the best choices, environment, opportunities for the kids, and I believe our move will ultimately benefit all five of us. The prospect of being the sole parent for months, however, is overwhelming, as is the prospect of coordinating a move to an unfamiliar place. The uncertainty of it all, and the fact that nothing can be resolved and settled quickly, pulls at me. The worry keeps me up at night. It’s unproductive worry, because we can’t make a lot of decisions until after Hubs is out there to gather information and see things for himself, but I can’t shut it off.
Also? The idea of him finding a place for us to live, while I’m hundreds of miles away, is kind of terrifying. I trust him, but I also wish I could be there to do it myself. I have a hard time letting go of the desire to know and control everything.
No wonder my doctor is treating me for chronic tension headaches. Those headaches are of my own making, and yet knowing that does little to calm me.