The other night, I was cleaning up dinner, my two children at my feet, when the fire alarms throughout our house began blasting. Of course, the baby started crying. Of course, my 4-year-old joined in, happily screaming in dissonant harmony. I swung around checking the oven and the stove, but the cooking was long over and nothing had been left on.
Thriving and Settling After a PCS
June marks the heart of peak PCS season. Moving trucks roll through neighborhoods, kids are out of school, and families scramble to unpack while trying to make the new place feel like …
