When does the fun part start?

It has been another grueling couple of weeks of preparation and "lasts".  Ethan has been in dance for 6 years. Last night was his last banquet, and of course there were tears.  His teacher and owner of the studio awarded him a Certificate of Achievement entitled "I'll Miss You Like Crazy".  And I'm questioning everything. Is this going to ruin our childrens' lives?  What have we done? Are we crazy for pulling them away from everything they have ever known?  His tears triggered my own. 

Earlier in the day, my daughter had her last school performance. She was Black Dog in Treasure Island. She hugged her friends and I wondered if she was going to hate me for what we're doing.   She's known these girls since Kindergarten.

The house is not yet empty, so we're cleaning it out while at the same time trying to make the RV as livable as possible.  As I type, my computer is finally functional - for the first time in two weeks.  Meanwhile, we have sold 1 of 2 town homes and are going to leave our renters in 2 for as long as they like.  It's going to be tricky, but their situation is unique. We want to help them in any way that we can. 

This is my pattern. "I'll clean the kitchen. Well, I can't clean that until this stuff is out of here. We can't get this stuff out of here until we're done using the bathrooms in here.  And I can't get this other stuff out of here until so-and-so comes to claim it and pick it up.  And I definitely can't clean the floors until we're done tracking in and out of here carrying stuff out."  It's a helpless feeling.

The countdown is suddenly in the single digits.  I am running out of time, but I am incapable of finishing any single project. For a task-oriented person, this causes actual, physical pain.  I can not finish a single task, and my brain wants an escape.  There had better be a glittering rainbow of check marks at the end of this, or I'm afraid I'm going to dissolve into a blubbering heap.  I found a green Lego in an empty room today and just about lost my tenuous hold on composure. 

I try to console myself with the next thing that will make me glad.  I'll be glad when -
School is over.  We have 2 and half days to go!
The house is empty and clean.
We actually go somewhere instead of hanging out in a camper in our yard!

I'm ready for the fun part.