Semper Gumby

We're moving!!...just kidding, no we're not...wait! yes we are...no, maybe later...OK, for real this time...oh, fooled you again.

OK, we really are...maybe.
Clark used to tease when we were first married that the Navy's motto is Semper Gumby, meaning "always flexible". (You see, the Marine Corps motto really is Semper Fidelis, "always faithful". So do get why that's funny? I think he's funny.) Oh how true that is. My Mom made me count yesterday how many moves we have made since beginning his time in the service 8 years ago. I counted 11. Eleven times that we have organized, packed, driven, found a place to live, made arrangements, started utilities, changed addresses, unpacked, set up, lived, packed up, turned off utilities, driven, found a new place to live....and on and on. That's a lot. And it feels like even more since involving kids in the whole ordeal. (I'll save the many many many conversations that my husband and I have had and will continue to have about the mass quantities of little girls' clothes that we move each time for another post...I like to remind him that this is just the beginning...wait until they have a say in the matter...clothes, shoes, purses, accessories...my head is spinning, where was I? oh right, close parenthesis.)
Anyone in the military can commiserate with this kind of lifestyle. Where the Navy is concerned, you can count on the plan changing a minimum of twice during the time of transition. I can't think of one job or assignment that we have had that hasn't changed mid-planning at least that many times. So we roll with the punches...sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a nervous laugh, and sometimes with our hands in fists. It's like the navigation system in a car. If you don't turn where it tells you to, it simply recalculates the route automatically and goes from there. And so we do just that. I can't tell you how many times in the last two months Haley has told her teacher at school that we are moving. I can't be sure but her teacher might think she has a lying problem because of this. I typically like to tell people things in advance so they can prepare and plan...this, I have learned is not such a great tactic. Mostly it just makes us look flaky (unless of course you have the privilege of being raised a military brat and then you just recalculate and go from there...in that vein, we have a whole new definition of "military brat"...sometimes we all are just that.)
Anyway, I digress...or maybe I'm moving forward...I don't really know anymore. The timing of Clark coming to get us and take us all back to Connecticut has changed probably a half dozen times. It is following an unpredictable "planning" conflict at work. One week they say he can go at "such and such time" then a day later that has changed...that has happened many times. He has asked and emphasized to those in charge at work that he needs at least a week or two notice (since we have to do some car maintenance and buy plane tickets, oh and pack 6 months worth of stuff...and prepare emotionally and physically to leave our home of 6 months with adoring grandparents and family before being ripped from their clutches--don't misinterpret, we are really excited to move to our new place and actually be WITH Clark again...remember my OCD tendencies toward preparedness?). But today he calls and says, the new plan is "I have to come in the next 48 hours or else the end of June". Recalculate. Try not to panic. Smile, maybe even chuckle nervously. Eyes flicker to my "to do" list. Get distracted with happier, easier thoughts. Think about blogging...google pictures of flexible people...laugh even more and be a little grossed out...back to thinking about moving. Call my Mom and Dad. Cry without meaning to. Back to thinking about moving. I'm gonna need more bins, quickly.

Sempre Gumby.

Did I mention I can't even touch my toes?

The kids on the other hand, are rather bendy.