Oye! Four nights in a hotel.  Three weeks based out of my in-laws’ home.  Then, who knows how long we’ll be in a hotel while waiting/looking for a home overseas.

Currently, we’re in the midst of three weeks of stateside homelessness.  And we’re really lucky because my in-laws are great, even if their home is in the back of beyond and I have no cell coverage and the internet usually runs too slowly to accomplish any of the things I need to get done before we go overseas. But I digress.  I really am blessed to have wonderful in-laws.  But after a few days, I can’t even stand myself as a guest.  I don’t know how they’re putting up with me!  Living out of suitcases, our crap stuff is everywhere, the kids have gone feral (hmm, maybe their parents have, too) and we’re stressed about the upcoming wonderful yet scary change to our lives. These are not people I’d want in my home.

Oh, wait, that’s us.

Our usual preference is a door-to-door move.  The truck picks up all our worldly belongings and meets us at the other end to deliver them to our new home, precluding the need for anything to languish in storage while we wait an undetermined amount of time to receive them.


Sometimes a door-to-door move isn’t practical, or even possible.  This is especially true for my family when we move overseas.  And so, every now and then we find ourselves in this position: temporarily homeless and relying on the hospitality of friends and family (mostly family).

The trouble is that what might have looked good on paper a few months back during the planning stage is not so great in reality.  It doesn’t mean we don't love our extended family.  But we all need our own space and to be among our own things.  Simple tasks like preparing a meal become so much more challenging and frustrating when you’re not used to the kitchen you’re operating in.  My mother-in-law’s system of kitchen organization is very different from mine.  And her pots, pans, and utensils are just different from mine.  And there’s the crux of the matter:  It’s not my kitchen; it’s not my space.

We recently found out that all our shipments have arrived overseas: the car, the unaccompanied baggage, even our household goods!  This knowledge just serves to make me even more antsy to get ourselves physically there and start this new assignment/adventure.

We miss our stuff. Our space. And I need my own kitchen!

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