So I’ve been a bit AWOL as of late. I think I’m mostly done licking my wounds around not getting the most recent position I was up for. I understand why the committee made the choice they did and I would have made the same decision were I in their shoes. It still leaves us in an economic hole, but at least it doesn’t register as a personal affront. Things are tight, very tight, and they’ve been that way for a while now. So when I let myself down the rabbit hole of “when is this going to happen for us?” it can get bleak up in my mental landscape. Most of the time, though, I trust the process, know that I am lucky to have a full-time job while I’m looking, and keep putting myself out there (over and over and over again). I used to say it was like riding a horse, but now I think it’s more like riding an angry ostrich (those things are mean!).
Our kids are a pretty cool antidote to all of the career worries, though. Louis is going to be one next month!?! How in the world did that happen so fast? He’s cruising all around (though no independent walking yet). He’s starting a few words: “mama” and “hi” and I swear I got a (p)”omo” out of him the other day! He loves to rub his head against us (like a cat marking its scent). And he adores games of peek-a-boo, which will send him into squeals of giggles. Seriously, this baby is just the level-best. He smells good, he’s still bald, he nurses all.night.long, and he will eat anything you put in front of him. I mean anything. He’s like Mikey from the old Life commercials, or maybe a billy goat. Take your pick.
Three-year old Bram is a rollercoaster of emotions for all involved. The spontaneity of his sweetness, empathy, and physical affection is enough to just bowl me over sometimes. Last night, we were pretending to be on a fishing expedition in the ocean. I secretly dressed up as the Loch Ness monster. Then, instead of trying to eat anyone, I sang a sad song about not having any friends. To this, Bram burst into actual tears and gave me a HUGE bear hug and said that he would be my friend. This is the second time that one of my made-up silly songs has sent him into tears of empathy. That kid. Love him. And just to be crystal clear, this is the same kid that had a thirty minute temper tantrum (involving growling and hysterical crying) in the middle of the night last night, too. And he’s still v.e.r.y. sensitive to sugar. They had a juice snack at school yesterday for their Valentine’s Day celebration, and he proceeded to come home and flip the f%$# out on our lunch guests. I’m sure some people think we’re crazy or over-protective to say he’s “sugar sensitive,” but the difference in his behavior is like night and day. As an adult, it’s so telling about the way that sugar lights up our brains like a drug. I hope we’re able to communicate health and moderation around this as he grows and is making his own food choices.
We’ve also got a big post that we need to write soon about some major shifts in our thinking about homeschooling. It’s been a possibility swirling around for the last year or so, but we’ve started talking and researching with some specificity lately. To be clear, we love the part-time preschool that Bram has been at this year, but it’s not going to be a long-term choice for our family (mostly from a financial standpoint). And we have some real interest and desire to take a more intimate and active role in the boysies’ education. We’re weighing our options and making a game plan. Like I said, more soon…