Impatience

Try as I might to be patient, I am losing my mind waiting for my husband to get orders for our next move...which is to happen in less than five months.

Gah!  The control freak in me is absolutely short circuiting.

Unlike our last move from Pennsylvania, we haven't so much as had one whisper about where we're headed. 

Since we have to be out of this house before the kids' school year ends, I'm beside myself with trying to figure out schools, neighborhoods, husband commute time, etceTargeta.  Which, you know, is impossible without the actual state of residence to build into the equation..  Unless you just research ALL of the possibilities (there are four real possibilities now - two close by and two very much a plane ride) like a moron.

Hi, I'm a moron.

A moron who is trying not to drive her husband into a frenzy..

Our conversations used to go:

Him:  "Hi Honey.  How was your day?"

Me:  "Good, Grayson didn't go to the nurse today and Abby only ate half of....sooooo have you talked to the monitor today?  Do you know where we're headed?"

Him:  "Good, my day was good too, thanks for asking.  Babe, I will tell you when I hear anything.  I haven't heard one word yet.  Nobody has."

Which is true.  Very few of his fellow Marines have gotten orders yet so there are a bazillion families just like mine in limbo land, ready to seduce that monitor man with homemade lasagna, Dunkin Donuts gift cards, or inappropriate shower scrubbing.

Alas, we cannot bother the system even if the system bothers us.  Which is does.  It reallllly reeeaaallly does at this juncture.

To make sure I appear much more patient and understanding than I am, our conversations now go like this:

Him: "Hi Honey.  How was your day?"

Robot Me: "Good.  My day was good.  How was your day?"

Him:  "Ok.  I still have 2million and 4 pages to read on the Navajo..."

[Me boring holes through his soul with my anxious pressing eyes.]

Him:  "...Navajo warriors who were..."

[Me boring holes through his soul with anxious pressing eyes and pursed lips.]

Him:  "...who were...NO.  I did not hear from the monitor today.  What should we make for dinner?"

So even in character of patience, I am impatient and getting more agitated by the day.  Grayson accidentally dropped a heavy box on my ankle the other night and I reamed out the entire room of innocents for "making things so difficult," and "not understanding how hard that weight was."  Little did I know at the time, it wasn't Grayson I was talking to.

I think I was reaming out the Marine Corps.

Me:  "Sorry, Honey.  Tell me about the Navajo warriors again...  This time, I promise to listen."