By Tiffany Shedd

We made it! It's finally spring, even if we did get another 3 inches of snow on the office first day.

Spring is a season of new beginnings. While it is definitely a season for trees and plants to blossom, it's also the beginning of another season altogether - PCS season. Moving can be stressful under normal circumstances, but moving with a special needs family member can seem like the end of the world. But maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. Here are few tips to help make your PCS less stressful.

What can make the situation worse is finding out that your service member is going somewhere that your special needs family cannot accompany them. Sadly, if your family is part of the Exceptional Family Member Program, there will be some assignments that will not have the facilities to take care of your loved one. Separation from your service member is hard, anyone that has gone through a deployment or even long TDY knows this. If you’re PCSing and not currently in the EFMP program (and need to be), go immediately to your EFMP office and get started on the process immediately. This will ensure that your family member’s needs will be taken into account when your service member comes up for reassignment (which could mean a change in orders, and we all know this takes time). Here’s a good overview if you need to know about the EFMP program and how to get prepared for a move if you are on orders.

We have all heard the Boy Scout adage, “Always be prepared.” The same goes for a move. There are so many moving parts that have to stay organized during a move that it can feel intimidating, especially if you’re dealing with a special needs family member. If you are a special needs parents/spouse, then you probably already have many systems in place to keep your days on track. This means you are probably more prepared than you realize. Personally, I am a big fan of notes and cell phone calendar alarms. I also took it one step further in January and added a paper calendar on our wall. We were in the process of weaning my son off his epilepsy medicine and only gave it on certain days. Without the calendar, I would have never have remembered which days it was. Figure out what works for you and go with it. If you are a smart phone addict, there are lots of great free apps to help you get organized with lists and calendar reminders. If you’re low-tech, grab a pocketsize notebook and pen and be sure to have them handy. You never know when you’re going to think of something that you need to remember.

I know one of the things that helps me on a daily basis is having a schedule and sticking to it. I think most parents will agree that when things aren’t chaotic their stress levels are lower. This is especially important with special needs kids. Change can be very difficult for all kids, but especially for special needs kids. Moving is so much change in a short period of time, it can be very overwhelming. Start talking to your kids as soon as you get orders. Let them know that you will be moving soon, talk to them about where you’ll go, reassure them that things will be different, but that it will be ok; and while you can, try to keep their schedule as normal as possible. If you’re able to do something special during your PCS, like a side trip to somewhere fun or even to visit family, tell your kids about that. It will give the something to look forward to, instead of just dwelling on the negative aspects of moving.

Because PCS season coincides with spring, it’s a good time to go through boxes (like the ones in the basement that never got unpacked from the last move) and closets. Instead of thinking of it as spring cleaning, think of it as your pre-move purge. It’s time to go through all the kids’ clothes and figure out what fits and what doesn’t fit. Go through your and your partner’s clothes while you’re at it. I have come to actually love doing this and do it several times a year.

Why do I love this seemingly tedious activity? Two words: consignment sales. I have found a way to make some money with minimal effort with clothes that would either be thrown away or donated. That is not to say that donating your old clothes isn’t a worthy cause, but if you can make a little money to help you with your upcoming PCS, why not do it. There is a great website called Consignment Mommies that lists sales by state. It is great. I have found many sales in my area for kids’ clothes and I am working on getting my own clothes ready for a women’s sale. I have been using my consignment sale money to do fun stuff with my family, so you could make that side trip extra special with a little extra cash, and, that’s at least one less suitcase or box you have to unpack when you get to your new installation).

Even if you’re a PCS veteran, every move seems to be different for me. I bet that is true for most of you as well. Our next move will be our first in the EFMP program. I am thankful that there are so many resources available and a simple Google search will return tons of sites with hints and tricks to make that move go smoother, because I seriously hate moving. Anything that makes it easier is awesome in my book. Stay calm and PCS on.

Resignation can be tricky when it’s time for you to PCS. On one hand, you want to give your employer plenty of time to advertise, interview, hire and train your replacement. On the other hand, you don’t want to set off a series of events that gives him or her excuses to let you go sooner than you are ready. And quite honestly, you never know how an employer will take the news until you deliver it.

“I recently had an employer who let me go just a few weeks after finding out that I would be moving to Rhode Island with my husband this summer,” said Army wife Kat Elwell. “I personally did not think this would happen to me because the university I work for has a non-discrimination policy against military spouses, but it was a great reminder that being let go after giving notice can happen anytime, to anyone.”

So while it’s easy to get caught up in planning everything around making the situation easy on your employer, do yourself a favor and plan for your professional and personal well-being in the process. Here are five ways to create a win-win situation for you and for your employer.

Give Plenty of Notice

Most times you will have an idea when your PCS is nearing. Have a meeting with your employer to discuss the possibility three to six months in advance, depending upon how critical your position is to your department’s operation. Use the opportunity to hear his or her concerns and to show that you intend to alleviate the ones you can. Think about what those concerns might be and present ideas for how you will handle them. You can give written notice later on as a follow up when you are surer of the actual PCS date.

“As we all know though, even once your service member has orders, those can sometimes change, so spouses should keep the lines of communication open with their employers," Elwell said.

Find Your Replacement

Nothing will lighten your employer’s stress more than knowing your departure won’t leave her short-handed. So, while networking to find your next job, you should also network to find your replacement. Look around you for internal leads. Has anyone expressed interest in your work? Is there a co-worker or intern who has or could impress the boss? Then, look for external prospects by asking colleagues outside the company for referrals. If the new person is brought onboard while you are still there, offer to train her to ensure a smooth transition.

Tie Up Loose Ends

Nobody knows the ins and outs of your day-to-day work better than you do, so you’d also be the best person to make sure nothing falls through the cracks. One great way to tie up the loose ends is to think back to when you first started the job. What processes or procedures have changed since then? Was there a desk guide in place? If there isn’t one now, create it. If there is one now, update it.

Don’t Overcommit Yourself

Avoid taking on too much extra work, out of guilt that you are leaving the job. Don’t start new projects or lead them. Leave yourself room for time off when you have appointments, when the movers come and when you have other PCS tasks. Effectively balancing your schedule and your workload will go a long way in making your manager comfortable that you have everything under control.

Be positive

“My best advice is to stay positive, smile and try to keep it light. If you are dreading giving notice and you wear that on your face, the employer will assume it is a negative situation,” Elwell said. “Saying thank you or expressing gratitude can never be interpreted badly, and often it makes a long-lasting impression.”

When all is said and done, your goal is to give proper attention to the personal side of PCS and still make sure you have set yourself up on the professional side for a glowing letter of recommendation, a job reference and ultimately, your next job.

These past few months I’ve been investing quite a bit in a local non-profit I work for.

Lots of time. Lots of effort. Lots of printer ink and paper.

I am so proud of how large and successful we have become and how many families we have helped affect.

I feel we make an important the difference.

But then, I lay in bed, tired after teaching a community class or working a table at a community event, and I realize that all this work and growth and sacrifice I’ve made won’t matter in just two years.

Because, we will move. The Navy will have another life and base and community for us, and this small town and non-profit will be another piece of my past.

And that’s it.

A proud piece of it, maybe. 

But I won’t see what happens to this organization. I won’t see if it will keep going, grow more, fall or fly.  I won’t see if anyone remembers me. If they miss me. If they miss my impact.

In fact, because we live in such a military town, I’m not sure the current families we work with will even be here to remember my presence in the non-profit either.

While there is something to be said about the benefits of not putting down permanent roots in a town I have no particular attachment to, it is sad that I don’t get to see the mark I made in years to come.

And, it’s interesting. Long-standing institutions here – churches, recreation centers, city council – have high turnover. Non-profits are led by and serve entirely new populations from one year to the next.

It’s hard not to get discouraged and wonder why I’m up two hours too late in the evening working on non-profit tax paperwork, exhausted, when I’m not sure I’ll even make a long-term difference.

And yet, I keep going. Two-and-a-half years into it, I’m still going.

Why?

Because no matter what, I care. I care about this community, temporary home though it may be. I care about my neighbors and fellow mothers and babies and kids. I care that others reach their goals, and I care that this non-profit remain financially solvent, despite being totally run on donations.

My husband’s job in the Navy will always keep us moving, but that doesn’t mean I stop having interests or beliefs. And the extroverted helper inside of me always wants to come out.

So I keep going.

After all, just because I’m a Navy wife, doesn’t mean I don’t care.

 

It is the first PCS (summer) season we haven’t moved in the last three years. It is also the first time since we were first married that we have lived off base. Since we live in a “normal” neighborhood (i.e. a mix of retired, active duty and civilians) I didn’t expect to see much change around the neighborhood. But since we returned from a vacation a couple weeks ago, I am surprised by the number of “for rent or for sale” and “annual rental property” signs around our community. It seems like every other house had been emptied by one family and waiting for a new family to move in.  

I hate to admit it, but I do not know a lot of my neighbors. It is a quiet neighborhood-no sidewalks, pool or playgrounds (note to self for next move - closer playgrounds!) There has been a friendly hello or nod as we pass each other, but for the most part, everyone seems to keep to themselves. Most days, I feel like I am the only stay-at-home mom (with toddlers) around my circle, which is a new feeling. When we lived on base, I felt like the demographics were different. Everyone was similar to myself – they were a working spouse or new mom with one or two kids at home. There were always kids at the playground or moms walking or running with strollers. It was easy to make friends. When a family moved, the home was quickly repainted and filled with a new family.

But here in a “real” neighborhood, PCS season isn’t the same. The streets are quiet, there are not many kids riding bikes around or families taking after dinner walks. And the houses are not always quickly filled with a new family. Some of them have been empty for months. Some will be someone’s forever home.  I am not quite sure if we will make new friends this summer. And although we have a good routine here, and good friends in our lives around town, it would still be nice to feel that community vibe while walking around our own neighborhood.

Don’t get me wrong, I have some awesome neighbors! But, I miss the small talk and making stops in every other driveway to catch up with friendly faces. I miss the playmates for my kiddos at the playground, the constant sound of giggles or screams of kids scooting by on bikes and skateboards and fresh baked goods being delivered from another spouse as a welcome to the neighborhood.  

I can’t believe I miss living on base during PCS season. Most times it’s a difficult time of year to say, ‘See ya later’. But I am missing the predictability of one family moving and another arriving, almost immediately. It is always a new chance to make new friends with a possibility of long lasting friendships.  

I am not so sure what to expect in a normal neighborhood from here on out. But you don’t have to be a military family to have common courtesy or make new friends. Neighbors - military or not - are always going to be there, living on base or off. So this year, I will have my friendliest military spouse face on with store bought cookies (baking is just not my thing, as we have learned!) and hope to make some new friends in our neighborhood.

Elizabeth Jamison has taken the bar exam twice in two different states. And now, she’s preparing to take it again, in a third state. Each time, she has aced it.

Three bar exams? The extra pressure, study time and cost – crazy you say? It’s the life of a dedicated military spouse who is also a dedicated attorney.

Jamison, a Navy wife and the communications director of Military Spouse JD Network (www.msjdn.com) is just one of the 41 percent of its members who have taken two or more bar exams, usually due to the demands of the military lifestyles.

MSJDN was founded to advocate for military spouses who want to maintain their legal careers in spite of the challenges that frequent military relocations present. Many of these spouses have student loan balances of more than $80,000 and have families to care for, on top of juggling the duties of being a military spouse.

Since attorneys are required to be licensed in the state in which they practice, the time and cost to become licensed in a new state is an uphill battle every two or three years. Recent legislation has allowed many licensed occupations to have reciprocity in different states to accommodate their military moves - but not attorneys.

The highest court in each state governs their licenses, meaning they have to retest every time they PCS. MSJDN is currently working with states to make accommodations for military spouses and has succeeded in nine states.

 “Our primary goal is to get these rule changes into effect so that military families can stay together and military spouses can support their families,” Jamison said. “We’re working with each state to address their concerns and the rules in each state reflect the needs of that legal community. For example, some states that have enacted rules allow spouses to become members of that state’s bar permanently, while others permit it for the length of the service member’s orders.”

MSJDN also has an extensive membership of about 1,000 military spouses. The network provides resources for networking, support and job postings. The postings also include non-licensed legal jobs as well. A 

“We have so many people say they thought they were the only military spouse trying to pursue a legal career and they are so happy to find our group with like-minded spouses. It’s a very active group and a fantastic perk for those who join MSJDN,” Jamison said.

MSJDN has also partnered with In Gear Career to co-host the program, Homefront Rising, and provide non-partisan political action training to military spouses. This program encourages military spouses to become active in the political process and teaches the entire spectrum of political involvement from the local school board to state-wide Senate races.

MSJDN also assists military families with their pro bono program, Justice for Military Families. Partnering with TAPS, (Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors), and funded by Newman’s Own Foundation, this program not only provides a way for military spouse attorneys to stay current on the law while serving their community, but connects military family survivors with pro bono legal help as they navigate the often difficult legal challenges that may arise after a military member is killed in action.

 “We’re really proud of Justice for Military Families,” Jamison said. “It allows military spouse attorneys to use their talents for the benefit of the military community and fills the justice gap for these families in need of legal assistance.”

MSJDN is currently working on providing continuing education through their website, as well.

Maintaining a legal career as a military spouse can be difficult and expensive, but MSJDN provides a wealth of information and support to help connect spouses and continue to do the work they love, all while navigating the demands of the military lifestyle.

It’s funny how a simple text message can change … well, everything.
We’ve known for a couple months that we were moving, and even where to, but there’s something about that little official paper that says, ‘Hey, stuff just got real.’

If you’ve been following along with us, you know that we’re foster parents, and we’ve had our little girl just over nine months now, which makes the timing of this PCS pretty terrifying. You might also know that there’s zero chance I’m leaving Fort Drum until her legal situation is settled.

But with the promise we’ve made to fight for our family and keep her with us, a lot goes into the prep. We’re making decisions without all the information, trying to plan for every scenario, to include the ones we can’t imagine, but have to. And we’re starting small, if you call packing up and selling a house, small.

My first thought? Where did all this stuff come from?

My second thought? We are way over our weight allowance. We did a DITY move from Rucker to Drum four years ago, which means we haven’t actually had our stuff weighed in six years. Yeah, our house is one fat mamajahamba, and we need to make her svelte in the next two months.

Do you know how much stuff you can acquire in six years? Let me tell you, it’s not pretty. Nope. Does it help that I emotionally attach to things? Not in the least bit.
    
“Start getting rid of it,” sounds a lot easier than it is. I could seriously give you an excuse to keep every item in my house or tell you the plans I have for it a decade from now. Usually my response starts with, “Oh, but I meant to… (Enter craft here that’s just never realistically going to happen).”

Do I seriously need the newspaper articles on Jason’s squadron from his first deployment? Um, no, especially since I’m pretty sure they’re in a giant rubber box that also includes old, expired Sunday coupons. Will I make him drag them with us back to Colorado? Probably.

But I have to draw those lines, unless I want to end up on an episode of Hoarders. Then again, if they showed up to clean out my attic and garage loft, it may be worth it.

This is our most logical first step of this PCS: cleaning out our house to sell it and getting those tiny projects done so we can move forward. But it’s also the first home we’ve ever owned, and while we’re over here trying to be under weight, I’m arguing about keeping the piano, and, could we please take the closet door with us? The one we’ve used to mark the kids heights for years? Yes, I just made the leap from cleaning out the house to taking actual pieces of the house with us.

Well, maybe this isn’t going to be the easiest process.

I feel all defensive when I look at the amount of stuff we’ve acquired, and think, “Hey, we have six kids living here, of course we have that many beds.” Or, “I’m an author, of course I have a book obsession.” Instead of finding ways to clear it out, I’m arguing the stuff’s validity.

No, I’m not ditching the beds, but that spare dresser in the back hallway? The one that houses their Boy Scout uniforms and extra gear for sports they no longer play? Yeah, that needs to go.

Part of PCS’ing is leaving the extra baggage here, both the physical and the mental, and now that orders are in hand, it’s time to start doing that.

As for the other decisions: how long we’ll stay? When to go? And trying to figure out how long we’ll be separated until we’re a whole family again or even if we will be a whole family if our daughter is not allowed to travel with us. Those decisions are too big to decide without all the information we need. And when I look at how daunting all of that is? Well, cleaning out the attic and getting rid of the clutter doesn’t seem so hard. No, it’s really the easy part in all of this.

Reading that text that says, “We’ve got orders,” means we’re sitting down to a huge pie, full of complex pieces. How are we going to handle it with everything we have going on? The same way we always do – one bite at a time. And the first piece should probably be a yard sale.

But I am taking that closet door with us.

During PCS you move away from friends, lose your favorite hair salon and sometimes, have to walk away from a job you love.

The sting cuts deeper because you lose a career you may have loved, as well as the income that comes with it. The Military Officers Association of America reports that military spouses lose six to nine months of income after a PCS move as they search for another job.

In years past, military spouses were not eligible for unemployment payments because the rules dictated that they made a choice to leave. Military spouses cried foul, legislators reacted and many states began to recognize that no, we did not choose, Uncle Sam told us to leave.

Only a handful of states offered unemployment benefits to PCSing military spouses at first. Now, 45 states and the District of Columbia grant the benefits to military spouses who leave on military orders.

States who continue to deny these benefits are: Idaho, Louisiana, North Dakota, Ohio and Vermont.

Now, there is no sweeping national law or benefit. Each state has enacted its own set of rules regarding unemployment for military spouses.

To learn the specifics for your state, visit the website for the National Conference of State Legislators at http://www.ncsl.org/research/military-and-veterans-affairs/military-veterans-affairs-state-leg-database.aspx

In their search box type: spousal employment issues

You will find information about your individual’s state’s unemployment rules as well as a trove of information regarding the rights of military families and state laws.

You can also visit MOAA’s site for more information: http://moaablogs.org/spouse/2012/03/forty-states-provide-military-spouses-eligibility-for-unemployment-compensation/

The organization does a great job of following legislative issues that impact military families.

We've all got one. The story of that PCS move that was a nightmare from beginning to end.

Ours came last December. After what felt like a tussle every step of the way, from clearing housing to checking in and out of hotels, we decided to fly from Hawaii to the mainland, on Christmas Day. Sure, the airline was right - the plane, the airport - both were empty. Each of our five children had an entire row of seats on the jet to themselves to spread out across.

But an empty airport means security is all about you. That means security opens every one of your carry on bags. That means the cat gets out of her cage and runs to hide under the x-ray machine. Which means your children will run in circles, giggling and screaming with delight as they try to catch their beloved pet, only making her hunch deeper into the darkness under the machine.

Which means the head of security, does not much like you. 

And when we reached Atlanta, on Dec. 26, the entire nation had mobilized to resume their normal, non-Christmastime lives. With five kids, one dog, one cat, 26 suitcases and 12 carry-on bags, including one that was leaving a trail of pretzels and fruit snacks as we walked, we began the slow journey to change planes.

It took us almost the full two hours to cross the airport: I'm hungry. I have to go to the bathroom. The dog has to go to the bathroom. There is no bathroom for the dog. Now I have to go to the bathroom. Can I let the cat out? Don't let the cat out. You already let the cat out. Security!

Our plush, sweet, spacious ride across the Pacific led us to a mini-jet with three seats across and nowhere near enough space for all those carry-on bags. Our 90-pound golden retriever was kicked under a seat in front of us. The cat was in an overhead compartment, I think. It was 8 a.m. here, 3 a.m. where we came from in the Pacific. The kids were overtired, over-hungry and at least two decided they had to pee as soon as we sat down.

As the younger three began to scream and cry, and nearby passengers shot me looks of disdain, a stewardess marched toward me down the aisle. I mentally prepared myself for the, "please get the hell off our aircraft speech" and quickly tried to calculate how many hours it would take us to drive from Atlanta to our hometown.

She leaned in, I winced. And she whispered, "vodka or rum?"

"Umm, what?"

"You look like you could use a drink. What can I get you?"

I stammered something, I'm not even sure what. She was away and back within minutes with an alcohol-laden drink so strong I couldn't even finish it by the time we landed. She handed it to me with a smile and whispered, "Merry Christmas."

Best. Stewardess. Ever.

Our kids eventually cried themselves to sleep and I had 40 minutes of peace and vodka before we touched down in North Carolina. Smooth sailing. We had survived the PCS from hell.

Everyone woke up in a better mood. We gathered our bags, pried the dog out from under the seat and headed up the ramp, into the concourse. We were home and done with our journey.

And the dog could hold it no longer.

He squatted and took the longest pee I have ever seen. Right next to the line of people waiting to board our now empty aircraft.

And I swear when he was finished, he looked at me, and smiled.

Happy travels, where ever your orders may lead you this PCS season.

Are you in the middle of a PCS?

Are you stressed? Tired? Screaming at your spouse, your kids and anyone who asks if you're done yet?

Stop. Walk away. Take a mini-vacation if you can.

You heard me. Walk. A. Way.

When we PCS'd to Hawaii four years ago I was seven months pregnant, our three kids were driving us crazy as we tried to clean and prep our house for a renter as well as ship our household goods across the Pacific and wrap up our lives here. I was the local day camp director, we both were volunteers at another camp and barely a box had been packed. It was chaos.

So, I booked a four day trip to the beach.

My husband was beyond mad.

We have stuff to do. There are things in the house that need repaired. We have to finish packing. He fired off a very long list of excuses to prove to me that leaving the vicinity was a very bad idea.

Too bad. It was paid for.

So we left.

Best. Decision. Ever.

We escaped to the North Carolina Outer Banks. Not just the coast, but the outer islands to which we had to have a ferry carry us, our gear and our vehicle. There was no concierge, no hotel pool, no restaurants or phone service. Just us, a teeny, tiny cabin placed squarely on the beach, at the edge of the nation's east coast. There was hardly a soul there.

It was heaven.

We couldn't control what was happening back at our regular lives if we wanted to. No internet, no phone. We were stuck playing on a completely empty, beautiful beach.

We came back to a mess. But suddenly, it was ok. The stress was gone. We were recharged and ready to tackle it. The next two weeks of work were less difficult and less taxing.

Leaving for several days may not be possible. But get out as much as you can. Sit at the local coffee shop and have a coffee or an ice cream. Take your kids to the park. Walk away from the boxes and cleaning.

You will feel better.

During my husband’s last deployment, we went through some massive changes. The biggest was in October when we finally got the call we’d been waiting two years for – we had a baby girl to foster.  Now, eight months later, here we are, still fostering her, still buying an insane amount of hair bows.

But we’re also staring a PCS in the face four months from now. This isn’t just any PCS, it’s supposed to be our last, back to my home of record, where we’ll retire. We’ve been begging for this assignment for years, and now that we’re on orders, well, I’m terrified. Though we’ve had this little one for eight months, her future is anything but decided.

A question I often get as a foster parent, is whether military families are even allowed to foster. We’re living proof that we are. In fact, other than our slightly nomadic nature, I think military families are ideal foster parents. We have guaranteed, steady income, strong spouses who know how to adapt to change, and sturdy support networks around us that we’ve built through deployments.

But it’s this PCS thing that kicks us in the butt. I won’t lie, we’ve never been in this for fostering, but for adoption. So the first thought both my husband and I had when he received his RFO, was “We’re not leaving her.” It was the hardest, and easiest decision we’ve ever made.

We’re so often split apart due to deployments, trainings and schools, that it’s almost unfathomable to consider living separately by choice, especially when we have no clue how long it will take, or if she’ll inevitably come with us. We sat the boys down and asked them their thoughts.  After all, she was just a tiny snippet of a baby when she came to us, and eight months later, she is as much their sister as blood could be.

We explained that Daddy would move to Colorado, and we would stay behind here until their sister was clear to come with us, or not. We pointed out that there was a chance she wouldn’t be able to come at all, that maybe she’d live with her biological family. They unanimously said they’d take the chance, and stay here, just for the chance to keep their sister. I’ve never been more proud of our little men, nor have I ever doubted my parenting more than at that moment, asking them to give up so much.

The thing about foster parenting as a military family is that we have two huge factors in our life over which we have no control. Good thing we’ve learned to bend instead of break. I think, as a parent, foster or biological, we make sacrifices for our children. We think of them first in all things, because they are what matters. In this case, I wouldn’t abandon any of my boys here if they legally couldn’t move with us, and I won’t leave her either.

So, now comes the hard part: putting our money where our mouth is. Selling our house and moving into a rental so we’re ready to go whenever she is … or isn’t. Now we prep for every inevitable scenario, because we’re learning that as much as nothing is certain in the army, that’s even more true in foster care.

We’re preparing to separate our family in order to keep our family. It’s complicated, and yet so simple when I really think about it. We knew this was a possibility when we went through the screening process to be foster parents, so just like Jason’s army career, we hang on and wait for news.

Besides, what fun would a PCS move be if you didn’t have giant hurdles to leap?