This week is officially packing up and getting ready to move week. Our living room currently resembles a hoarders rec room. Its giving me heart palpitations each time I walk past the disorganised array of boxes.
Army life for us involves having to pack up every 2-3 years and moving house because of being on the wanted list.. no I lie, its because of trivia buff's trade. Some army families are fortunate to be able to stay in one particular area throughout their entire career as it is the home base for their regiment, (we didn't get that lottery win) but in saying that it works out well in our case because we get to see the country without breaking the bank. Whittington, which is our current posting, has been home for three years now and its also been the first army posting in which I have been with my family for the entire duration of the posting. The last two postings I was away for half of it due to working abroad. That sucked balls big time as commuting between two countries inorder to have some semblance of a normal family life is insane and one I wouldn't recommend for the faint-hearted. It's definitely doable but at a cost .. both financially and emotionally. In my case throw in psychologically as well because we all know my kind of crazy is one of a kind!
This posting has introduced me to people who I can say will be lifelong friends, even after we move camps and I would even go as far as venturing out and including countries. One of the friends I made introduced me to her mother, I have now claimed her as my own kin, because as you do when you meet a friends parent, they are family. I'm sure a lot of expat families who have had to pack up and leave their home countries and begin anew in a foreign country can relate to the appreciation of having a support network in the place you move to. There is always the one who has the entire area scoped out for newcomers, one who gives you the tips of where to shop, places to visit and/or avoid and and of course there's always one who offers (the much needed) friendly warning about the psychotic cow who lives two blocks down, in my case its probably me and I'm pretty sure my street is going to have a massive street party when we leave.This posting has also made me appreciate the English countryside. I know I go on about the swine faecal scent wafting downwind to us, but in reality, the countryside walks isn't complete without the countryside smells.. or is that just my children whom I'm smelling??
I've definitely become one of those parents who started out with the parenting ideology of raising my children in the city so that they are exposed to the experience that big city areas offers to being someone who appreciates the quiet and much slower pace that the countryside offers. All