On the eve of everything changing

When we got home from vacation last week, I spent two solid days unpacking, rescuing the yard from weeks of neglect and filling the pantry and fridge, only to turn right around and prepare for the next life-changing event: Our move to D.C. this weekend.

Preparing for a household move with the military is hard work. The moving company does the heavy lifting, but the week in advance of packing day is a doozy.

We are in the throes of it right now, and Nick is still away for training. So really, I'm in the throes of it right now.

The past few days have been a cyclone of list-making, prioritizing, organizing, winnowing, laundering and a little packing too. I've made lists upon lists: A main to-do list, with several sub lists of the main list, and sub-sub lists of the sub lists.

And while I feel like I have this task-wrangling under control, what I don't have a handle on, and probably can't possibly, is the emotional stability of myself and of my children.

Major upheaval is underfoot and everybody knows it. We just don't always realize that while the adventure of it all makes us pretty excited all of the time, it sometimes makes us sad.

That undercurrent makes itself known in unexpected ways.

It often happens that just when I start to admire my feats of organization and checklist progress, the mood turns sour.

Henry starts whining because he's tired of being in the car all morning.

Lili feels slighted because the boys got to have lollipops at the doctor's office while she was at Bible school and we were two minutes late picking her up.

Tantrums are frequent.

Brother-sister squabbles are rampant.

It's piddly stuff, really, but I know I have to be extra sensitive to every little need right now, even though I don't have the time or patience to deal with these minute crises when they come.

Consequently I've been harsh, insensitive and over exasperated with my ducklings.

I have to start being more careful.

Our family is on shaky ground right now, and as we step forward into the wide-open future, these little people I love are watching my every move to see where they should set their feet.

Today I made some room on my checklists for a few extra items that are just as important as filling out a change-of-address form and gassing up the cars.

I need to offer a little grace in the middle of the whirlwind. I have miles to go in earning the complete trust of my children through this situation, but here some ways I'm trying to do just that:

* Stop at the library to borrow "Mercy Watson" on CD so Calvin can listen to his favorite book one last time while we run errands.

* Sit on the couch with Calvin and Lili to finish watching Cinderella after the babysitters leave. The groceries can be put away later.

* Make a special trip to the store in PJs to pick up pancake mix and fresh berries because one last special breakfast in our kitchen is so very important.

* Let Lili and Henry stay up a little past bedtime to bake chocolate chip cookies for Nick's homecoming. We need to use up the butter and eggs anyway.

* Eat juice pops at the playground even though the combination of sticky fingers and clingy sand make me cringe. The bath tub will need one last good scrubbing -- might as well get it good and dirty in advance.

* Offer a ridiculous amount of hugs. These kiddos need them. So do I.

There's a lot to be done here, but if I forget to show kindness to my children in the middle of it, why would they believe me when I tell them this move is for the best and that we're all going to be just fine?