Packing up is hard to do

We have just accomplished a rather monumental moving task (at least the first step of it). At the beginning of April, we were living happily in our serene neighborhood: where Natty could bike to school and Sam free-ranged with the local kids up and down the street. (My job was not working out, but that's another story for another time.) We were planning an exciting 3 month sabbatical for the summer and this alone would have been enough to pack for.

But then April happened, and April showers didn't just bring May flowers. April brought Opportunity....which as we all know is inseparable from Challenge. And after we'd agreed to the Opportunity to move to Unalaska, the Challenge was packing our entire house up in addition to packing for the summer - in less than 30 days.

It's healthy to purge...and moving is the prime time to do it. So I pushed the kids and myself (Murray doesn't need a nudge in the purging direction) right away to start a giveaway pile. But I didn't push them to actually pack for the move because there was serious processing of the transition happening and I didn't want to pour lemon juice in their open wounds.
Instead, we focused on packing for the summer with them. We had big duffles open and agonized over what to bring vs buy there. We bought foul weather gear (only AK girls shop for foul weather gear and a strapless bra to go under a prom dress on the same outing).

Meanwhile, I was surreptitiously sorting/packing what I could for Unalaska.

Sunday, May 19 we had a Bon Voyage party and, finally, we had to tear off the bandage.
This was the charge I gave Natalie and Sam last weekend: "Pack 1) a bag for the next 3-4 days with stuff that you will also wear for 1-2 weeks in Anchorage in August. 2) finish packing for 3 months sailing, 3) get your room ready for the movers to pack it, and 4) tell me what is staying in storage in Anchorage."  (we're downsizing in Unalaska).

Friends, this is high-level packing.

Sidenote: It was the last 3 days of school for Sam. Murray was on call Friday and Tuesday night. And Murray and I kept working at least 1/2 days up until Wednesday.  Would NOT recommend that to anyone.

Murray was manic - in a useful, productive way. I don't produce an ounce of adrenaline anymore, so I didn't move quickly, but I am a midwife - and that is excellent training for the grueling process we put ourselves through. Here are some guidelines that I have found to be true - during long call shifts and in life:
1) Keep your priorities straight. My kids' health, including emotional health, is important, and if that means delaying the inevitable until they can handle it, taking a deep breath and answering kindly when they ask ridiculous questions, or stopping packing to make them food...SO BE IT. People matter more than things.
2)  Know your scope of practice. I pack well. I do not do other things well...therefore I consult, collaborate, and delegate.
3) Be flexible with variations of normal.  Be confident to call it when veers out of normal, but until then be tolerant.
4) Keep moving forward - I had to resist being paralyzed my fears and overwhelmed by the size of our tasks, but doing just what was in front of me, then the next thing, then the next...that gets me through tough situations.
5) Perfection is the enemy of the good - this is related to "Keep your priorities straight." I may be opening boxes in Unalaska and thinking "Why did I bring this?!?" but it's done.
4). Be present. I practiced mindfulness; acknowledging the stress and releasing it over and over again. Which then allowed me to savor the last moments in our Anchorage life as I dashed around. And now that it's over, I'm proud of my kids, impressed with my husband and so very, very weary.

I write this from New Haven, while Murray is at his 30th reunion. I got to connect with our New Years crowd, but bowed out of the dinner (Murray took Natalie as his date), and instead stopped by an Indian restaurant/bar and had a delicious cocktail and a chaat snack alone. I then put the boys to bed and enjoyed the quiet: ready for tomorrow and the adventures it will bring.

Natalie at the Maya Lin "Women's Table " sculpture

Sam, reading over Ben Franklin's shoulder

Hello Again!

It's been a long time since I dusted off the old AK Traveller blog but I think it's time to get going again. Because....we're taking our kids off on another adventure! Actually, 2 adventures, back to back.  

First off: We're sailing "around" the UK this summer. Not necessarily Circumnavigating the UK (that's waaaaay too goal oriented for us). But we have bought (?!?!) a 44 ft gaff-rigged yawl in Lymington, UK, and we're going sail about in it, headed along the coast in a westerly/northern fashion from May 29-August 14. Or thereabouts. And this adventure was the impetus to re-start my blog so you all can enjoy my musings on our escapades. 

This is a Very Big Adventure. And is a touch Romantic (in the classical sense). 

But that's not all! When we return, we're not really returning. 

And so the second adventure begins: We're moving to Unalaska!

 Just like that. We're in the midst of negotiating the contract and securing a house to rent simultaneously as I'm restarting this blog. (and moving out of our house in Anchorage).

I rather fancy our family as the carefree, nomadic type: with sun-kissed, ruffled hair and adventure-shabby - but still hip - clothes. Sailing here, caring for a remote, underserved community there. However, as with so many things, the reality is far from Instagram-perfect. My kids are upset, so I am upset. We have a great community here: our kids like their schools, friends, neighbors, etc. We live in a safe neighborhood, near to our work, grocery stores and restaurants. It's easy, convenient living. The American Dream. 

And we're moving to a wind swept island where the Pacific Ocean meets the Bering Sea. With no hospital. To offer care to a community that endures the worst weather the earth has to offer and a migrant labor population that comes from all over the world to work in a harsh, demanding fishing industry. 

I'm excited, sad, regretful and thrilled, all in the same body. 

Honestly, what family uproots itself from a safe, predictable, structured life to go sailing for 3 months and THEN moves to the ends of the earth?  WHO DOES THIS? 

Well, apparently, Murray and I do. (insert friendly wave). 

I'm don't have much to say to defend ourselves. I can write more later when I've processed it a bit. And my kids have processed it a bit more as well - currently I'm helping them process it and That. Is. Really. Hard. 

'Cause they're not happy. (this will not be as shocking to any of my readers as it was to Murray and I. We're strange. Our kids are cool. This is a big difference.)

Anyway.  I didn't think 2 parents working full time and living in mid-town Anchorage was worth writing about, but I do think sailing the Young Larry with Natalie, Sam, and Murray will be. As will living in Unalaska. 

I hope you agree.