I've experienced my share of moves. From birth until I said, "I do", I moved 16 times. Each of those was done on my own or by my family/ friends. I am accustomed to making new friends, finding new neighborhood highlights and establishing desirable spots for my collectibles in my space. More than anything else is this PCS (Army vernacular: for a move "Permanent Change of Station"), I looked forward to having movers come in and do the hard part.
Our driver and the moving crew he assembled were great. I wish he could be our next door neighbor. They made what is normally the most stressful part of a move go quickly and easily. Little did I know how much our family would need that because of the lack of ease that would follow.
Over our anniversary weekend, we purchased a new van. It is beautiful and magic, and almost makes me forget that I'm driving a minivan rather than a vehicle I think more suited to me as an individual (like my RAV4 we traded in, or say.... a classic convertible British sports car). In the stress of beating the snow and a night drive, I nearly ran out of gas along I-70 with three kids in the car. In case you ever make the drive, be forewarned there are no gas options once you get about 10 miles West of Topeka. Those moments of panic, would set the mood for much of the next couple weeks.
Our PCS was not a great distance. We've moved from Fort Leavenworth to Fort Riley. We're only 100 miles down the road. However, the first real snow of the season decided to hit us on the very day of our move, leaving me with the three youngest children at our new town preparing to sign a lease and unload the moving truck, and my soldier trapped in Fort Leavenworth, unable to clear because of adverse weather office closings and our high-schooler who had to finish finals.
What's your worst moving story? Join the conversation on my Facebook page.