12: years married, by Monday of next week.
13: times moved, by the same day.
And the process of moving begins, again, for our family today. Finding the lost Connect Four chips under the couch. Dragging out the suitcases from storage and checking for spiders. Sorting clothes and art projects and broken legs from the Bionacle-guy. Eating off of paper plates, food that you don’t have to cook. Trying to maintain a shred of decent parenting to kids who want to play with the toys you were trying to sneak-throw away.
Selling things, trashing things.
Dismantling a life.
And while our plan is to return to Chiang Mai, we’ll be moving to a completely different part of the city when we get back in July after a visit to the States. The new area of town is closer to stores and schools and activities for the kids, and it will hopefully be a much better place to live for the overall health of our family. Homeschooling three kids in the countryside without a firm handle on the language and with only occasional access to a car has just been much harder than I thought.
We have a friend who says, “Do whatever it takes to stay overseas, once you get there.” And, for us, for now, another move is our best shot at doing that whatever it takes.
And you might say that we must have made some bad decisions to have moved three times within the city, during the first year overseas with three small children.
You might say we should have planned more or researched better in an effort to avoid the upheaval of dismantling our life, again.
And you might even say that we are a bit crazy to enter into, yet another, period of transition.
And we would be the first to agree with you, wholeheartedly, on all accounts.
Because we’ve made more mistakes than we can count over the last fifteen months. And we look around at the hearts of our kids and the condition of our marriage and the general state of us, and we are intimately acquainted, again, with the fact that we have become in many ways less than we were when we first started out.
And yet, and yet. . .
It is what it is.
And sometimes that’s just all that it can be.
And, so, yes. The Parkers are moving for the 13th time. And, no, we wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.
But this is our story, after all–
It’s just turning out to be one with a whole heckuvalot of settings.
To read about our last move, 8 months ago, click here.
Okay, go. In the last 15 years, how many times have you moved? Anything positive about the moving process?