• Previous posts

  • Aging is for the weak, and everyone else
  • More short cuts
  • Smol Ketchups
  • What’s the opposite of green juice and deep breathing
  • Living through it all online
  • The Change
  • 18
  • Ok but ALSO:
  • Midlife POV
  • Influence and Dooce
  • Horse therapy
  • You can’t go home again
  • Obsolescence
  • Before and after
  • A cringe confession on friendship

Archives from 2002-2006

Last weekend we took the kids to go visit my family in Port Angeles, and man, it was such a good time. It was wonderful to see everyone again, and it was probably the first trip we’ve taken with the boys that was virtually free of small child ass-painery.

They loved the ferry rides, they loved goofing around at my mom and aunt’s house (and squealing over their parrot), they loved the hotel room we stayed in. They were hyper, loud, and oblivious—but they were good-natured, happy, and so much fun to be with.

For what felt like the first time, we didn’t have to worry about naps, midnight feedings, bottles, epic mid-meal chokebarfsplat disasters, blowout diapers, or mysterious sustained crying fits. The nonstop exhausting grind of caring for very young children while vacationing has been mostly replaced by sheer fun—the four of us hanging out and talking and pointing out new sights and having a great time. This is what it’s going to be like, I kept thinking. (You know, at least until they don’t want anything to do with us.) God, this is awesome.

I always suspected that I would enjoy parenthood more when my kids were older. I don’t know how that sounds—bad, maybe? Like I didn’t enjoy them when they were little? I hope not, because I did. But I think (okay: I know) I’m happier now that they’ve grown up a bit.

Did/do any of you feel the same way? That you enjoyed parenting more once you were past the baby stage?

Around the time we decided to put our house on the market—back in July, I guess it was—we stumbled across a house for sale in Eugene that we both sort of fell in love with. I told myself it was useless to spend any time thinking about the property, for surely it would sell before we’d ever have a chance to even consider making an offer. But as you know, daydreams have a way of sneaking around the logic centers in your brain. I pictured our kids playing in the yard, the Christmas tree on display in the front window, the pile of cheery magazines in the sunny kitchen nook.

We looked at schools in the area, calculated drive times, toured the house twice. Over the months the sellers dropped their price little by little, but it stayed on the market. I had a silly thought this house was waiting for us, somehow.

I suppose even if that was true, like anything else, houses can’t wait forever. We learned a couple weeks ago that a sale was finally pending. There’s no point in mourning something that was never yours, but still. It’s hard not to.

I have this image of our future as a set of cards that’s constantly being shuffled right now. A few weeks ago we were really feeling the pinch of JB’s struggling business, today he’s landed a temporary contract gig that will see us through the next several months. I was offered a full time remote job with vacation and benefits, which I gave serious consideration to (but ultimately decided to keep my home/work balance as is for now). I don’t know what will change in the next weeks, months, years: what will happen with JB’s company, whether or not we’ll be able to move, when I’ll go back to school, where our careers will take us.

I sometimes wish it was all figured out—that the path was clear and we had all the answers. Mostly, though, I feel lucky. I don’t know if I believe in fate, but I do believe in hard work. I believe in our little family. I know we don’t let a closed door stop us dead. We find something else to open.

← Previous Page — Next Page →

• My product review site:

  [Older recommendations]