Round Two

For the second weekend in a row we went to a town where Ben is interviewing to scope things out, have lunch with the search committee and just get a feel for things.

What a difference this was from last weekend. It is much closer (only 40 minutes - albeit in no traffic early on a Saturday morning) than last weekend. There is an actual town with many people - 13,000 as opposed to 5,000 last weekend. There are stores and restaurants and all that located in an area sort of like the rte 9 strip, but then you leave that and enter into this lovely town where there's space between the houses and there were people out in their yards with their kids. There's a new high school being built, there are lots of horse farms and walking trails. The beach is 2 towns over. There's a fabulous Y with tennis courts and a pool.

This church also has a parsonage where we'd have to live, but again, soooo different. I totally fell in love with this house even though it will never be mine in any way. Built in the 1850's it has all kinds of charm, but has been kept updated. Lots of nice space, good storage, 4 bedrooms, 2 and a half baths, a kitchen I could totally live with in a very happy way a nice deck and backyard as well as a 2 car attached garage. I could see having parties here and having our kiddos running around all very happily.

All that said, there are still drawbacks. It is far enough from where we are that I feel somewhat fearful to leave. The house isn't in a neighborhood so easily meeting some people isn't there. My close friends are in the city and while I don't see them often, I can just call them up and meet somewhere easily. My professional life is here and my commute would become pretty long. In general, the time our family has together will alter significantly if Ben were to go back into the ministry. I don't relish not having family weekends and not seeing each other every night. We also wouldn't be buying something which is what we really want to do - having your first mortgage in your 50's is not all that appealing, frankly. I suppose we could buy either an investment property now or a retirement home, but that seems a bit more on the complicated side.

So many decisions and so much information to ingest as all of this moves forward along with a few other professional irons he has in the fire. I'm anxious to begin making my own professional changes and hope, hope, hope, we'll know something soon.

Learning

Yesterday was a big day. We went to one of the towns where Ben has been interviewing for a ministry position for him to do a second interview, me to be taken on a tour (and I know I was being scoped out for my role as his wife) and a lunch. It was enlightening. I think we both went in thinking, okay, this is it for us, we'll love it and want to move here.

The more the day went on, the less it seemed that way to me. This place is remote. If we wanted a summer home, it would be fantastic. Quiet, removed, on the water and really, really nice. But, SMALL. And when you think about spending your years somewhere, that small is not what I want. In our lives outside work we love to try new restaurants, go to shows, hear live music, visit museums. There is none of that there. There isn't even a funky coffee shop in the center of town. There's no Trader Joes or Whole Foods closer than 45 minutes away. The parsonage was by no means our dream home. What I would do for work is very up in the air. I was told by the woman who drove me around that most moms are stay-at-home. That isn't what I want to be and I think that it could be hard to find a group of women I relate to. The school system is good which is great for Ella, but there is nothing outside of the school system to give her additional opportunities. I want her to be in a more diverse area where she can learn about the world.

So, it was a long, 7 hour day of being on and smiling and talking, but it was worth it as we left with a decision for ourselves and more knowledge about the kind of place we want to be to settle down. There are two more spots on the horizon and we'll visit one next weekend. Maybe one of them will be it, but if not, I know the right thing will come along and show itself to us. I think we are both feeling ready to make final decisions on this stuff so hopefully that means the Universe is going to cooperate and show us the final deal soon!

A long, long month comes to an end

It can't end soon enough. October has been a rough month round these parts. I left for a conference early in the month, having just had one cold, only to come down with another that morphed into a freaking upper respiratory/laryngitis-y thing that is STILL lingering. I wake up with no voice and when it finally comes in later in the morning I sound hoarse with all the crap in my throat. Mix into this a cold for Ella that ended up with a fast moving ear infection that caused her sweet little ear drum to burst, a second cold and then, dreaded of all dreaded, a stomach bug this past weekend. And the same awful cold for Ben that he is still fighting.

Okay, those who know me know I HATE THROWING UP. I will do anything to avoid it. I prayed to every God imaginable when pregnant that I would not have morning sickness. In the same vein, I don't enjoy listening to others throw up (maybe from all the years of listening to my brother hurl every morning of high school but that's another story). So, while minding my own business at Head of the Charles this weekend, while out with my friend Lisa, I was amazed to look down at the little one and see that she had thrown up ALL OVER HERSELF in her stroller. Seriously, it was everywhere. She seemed remarkably un-phased as I contemplated what to do and tried to avoid looking closely at the tofu and pear marinated in stomach juices that adorned her like a weird beard.

It was my lucky day that after dropping us off Ben had decided to stay close to the square so he was able to come and get us. She made it home without booting again, but then did like 9 times all over each of us at varying times. We covered ourselves in towels to try and contain it, but the result was like 7 loads of vomit covered laundry.

As usual the whole thing seemed way worse for the parents than the kid who was incredibly chipper in between barfing episodes. However, it meant we had to cancel her first birthday party which was sad. We'll try again next weekend.

She's now back to her normal self, the ear infection has hopefully cleared up, the cold is abating and GOD willing we will all be healthy through the next little bit. Seriously. I don't think I can take one more illness for any of us. Please, let this last week of October pass quietly and have November be a more calm, healthy month for all of us!

I haven't blogged for a while because I've been a bit busy with all the school start up, illness, travel and life fun that's been transpiring. But, I'm blogging now because...well....because I'm procrastinating. Tuesdays I work from home on a data project that I can do at my leisure. Two and half hours in this morning my eyes are going loopy and I'm not sure I can take anymore.

Time is marching on, but I feel like I'm in a gigantic holding pattern, circling around the life that I want. Okay, okay that's a bit extreme, but I am waiting for the *part* of life that I want *next*. That is to move to a town where we will settle, buy a home, contemplate when the next little Davis will join us and become involved in our community.

In all likelihood, the holding pattern will switch on its landing gear (how far can I take this metaphor?) before the end of the year. The 3 options Ben is looking at will come to resolution (and hopefully to a new job), we'll get the money we are inheriting from my grandmother and start to map out a move. A few weeks ago in a fit of frustration with the smallness of our place, I suggested we go to a few open houses. If one particular job happens for him, we would likely stay in Arlington so, we looked at some bigger condos that would be near to the train. Neither of them were really our next place, but it felt nice to look and start talking about what we want.

I am anxious to sort out my own next professional move. Since I'm the one who will work part-time and earn less, I can't dictate where we go so I'm waiting, oh so very impatiently, to make any move.

Over this past weekend I was out in Ohio presenting a yoga for singers workshop and it was fun to be back. The three years I spent there were three of the happiest years of my life. I was so engaged with what I was doing and loved learning new things. It made plain how disengaged I feel about what I'm currently doing and how little I'm learning and growing in my current job. There are so many moments that I question staying in voice teaching, but I know it could be very different if I taught at a different place. Do I hang on and try somewhere else, or get out while the getting is good and find a job that will be less influenced by the economy and provide a more stable situation and make me feel like I am learning and growing?

Plus O Magazine had a section on figuring out what you want to be when you grow up. Do any of us ever figure it out? I don't want to spend my adult days wondering rather than doing, but it seems hard to sort it all out. I just have this nagging feeling what I am doing isn't 'it'.

Now I'm just blathering because my brain is running and there are things I need to attend to: Laundry, vacuuming, making quiche and banana bread for dinner, steaming my head to try and get my voice back. Fun way to spend one's lunch hour, no?

Taking Issue

There's a post circulating of a letter written to a paper in Jackson, Mississippi from an ER doc in 2009. In it he details having to provide care for a woman who has a gold tooth, multiple, expensive looking tattoos, wears an expensive brand of tennis shoes and has an R&B ring tone on her cellphone. The patient received medicaid. His letter stated he didn't like that he was paying for this patient's health care when clearly the patient is choosing to spend her money on vices rather than getting herself health insurance and taking care of herself.

I find so many problems with implications made by the doctor in a letter like this, I'm almost not sure where to begin, but what I think it comes down to race and class.

The doctor doesn't name the patient's race, but gives enough cultural related hints, I think, for the reader to assume that she is black. This article from CNN.com discusses study findings of how doctors view and subsequently treat black and white patients differently. If this doctor were presented with another medicaid case of, let's say, a white woman who has a gold tooth and maybe some other non-typical items for a poor person, would he feel so resentful? For the record, my 93 year old grandmother is on medicaid, has a gold tooth and has many times needed care at the hospital that there is no way she could have afforded to pay for.

Does the doctor know where the patient's tattoos came from? Did the patient tell him she went to the city's best tattoo parlor? Or, did the patient do some jail time and get ink on the inside? There are so many ways they could have happened, that who knows and why try to imply something?

A quick look on the internet tells me that the current cost of milk per gallon is around $4.50. You can buy a 12 pack of Pepsi for $3.69 and a 12 pack of Natural Light Beer for $7.99 (this price was from a Mississippi liquor store). Does the extra $3.50 spent on beer rather than milk give the patient enough to pay for her own health insurance each month? Having provided my own healthcare in the past to the tune of nearly $500 a month, I'm guessing that answer is no.

And what about her food choices? There is a modified version of the letter circulating on Facebook that references the woman's eating fast food take out. While snopes.com puts that letter into the false category, someone thought it was worthwhile to ramp up the evils committed by this woman. Surely people know just how easily it is for the poor community to just walk down the street to Whole Foods and get high quality food at a low cost as well as finding nothing but fresh fruit and vegetables at their local convenience store. There is a reason why the poor are obese. Little Debbie swiss rolls cost $1.33 for 12 at Kmart.

Is she on medicaid because she isn't working and is just living off the system? There are an awful lot of people out of work in our country right now and that may be the case, but there are also a huge number of 'working poor' who can't afford healthcare even though they are employed. The doctor in his letter didn't seem to know how she ended up on medicaid, but again the implication is there.

First do no harm, doctor, which would imply to me you won't judge your patients, you will work to educate them and provide them with the care they need. Be aware of your own racial biases and perhaps inform yourself about what comes along with living in poverty before you pass judgment on another poor woman who comes into your ER.

Mystery on Allen Street

A nice young family lives next door to us. They moved in a year after I did and last year, moved to the upstairs part of their house and rented out the first floor. When they moved in I would smile and say hi, but they really, really kept to themselves. Sometimes they'd nod, other times, no response at all. That isn't all together out of the ordinary in New England. We aren't exactly open and friendly folks all the time, so I didn't think much of it. But maybe I should have.

You see, when they moved in, they had two boys and now they only have one. I'm not kidding. The older boy is no longer there. The younger one is now about 2 and I see him get into the car to go to daycare with his mom in the mornings. The older one was maybe 4 or 5 when they moved in and he's gone. His bike used to lean against the side of the house, next to his dad's which was outfitted with a seat for the infant to ride in. Now, no little person bike, no running around in our driveway. Nothing. I'm not sure how long it has been since I last saw the older boy, but I hadn't really thought about it until this summer when E and I would be out and I'd see the mom out too, but she was always with just the younger boy.

Over the years we've become a bit more friendly and will say hello and chat briefly when we see each other outside. They had a yard sale earlier this summer and the mom came over to tell me the day before and said that she'd set aside some toys she thought would be good for Ella. I went over in the morning and got a bunch of great stuff. We were talking about kids, daycare etc. I commented that I couldn't imagine doing it with two. She just sort of looked at me blankly. I quickly moved on, but it made me realize there really isn't another kid living with them who would now be about 7 years old.

Um, where did the kid go? I can see two options. He was either a product of an earlier marriage and lives with the other parent (the husband has a foreign accent, so maybe the kid is on another continent?) or something awful happened and he died. I would think the neighborhood gossip would have gotten that one around, but who knows. Most of the talk around here centers on the geniuses who miss the one way sign at the end of our road and get yelled at by the old lady across the street who site out on her porch as they drive by (as though they can hear her inside their car).

There is no polite way to ask a question that would get the answer, so I quietly hypothesize and keep my eyes peeled for his bike to return. Now that I wrote this, I totally feel like Harriet the Spy. Or my mother, I'm not sure which.

Day Care, We Does It

It was a big old week here at the Wavis homestead. The Shorty packed up her lunchbox (along with 14 million other bags of diapers, clothing changes, sun hats, butt paste, bottles and formula) and trekked off to school. Well, daycare, but we call it school because she is learning stuff while in a place with 6 other little people all clambering for the same rattle.

We visited the day before she began and stayed for an hour. She was totally content and I felt good about the decision to send her there, regardless of how poor it is making us. Then, that night, it hit me. This whole being home and raising her is coming to an end. I was no longer going to be the sole caregiver for my little girl. When she has a boom, I won't be there to scoop her up and get her laughing again. I'll have to figure out how to get me ready and her ready and out the door with a nutritionally sound lunch that wasn't just rustled up from the fridge. It made me sad.

When the Hubs came home and announced that he was sad she was going to daycare. It made me mad. Who was he to feel that way? His life wasn't changing? He wasn't having to figure out anything new and refind his professional self in between diaper changes and nighttime wake ups.

Then I calmed down and realized he had a right to his feelings too and really, I was just needing to embrace this next change. I knew a part of me was yearning for it. It is HARD to be home all day, alone with a little one. Starting when we were would allow for some shorter days and a slow rolling start before I have to go in to school to teach was a good thing. Waiting two weeks was just delaying the inevitable and would add to the stress level in the long run.

The first day I stayed for half an hour until she seemed suitably distracted and I took off. When I picked her up that afternoon, she was on the floor, chattering away while playing with a book. She heard my voice and crawled at warp speed over to me. Yesterday, I just dropped her off and left and when I picked her up she crawled over to me but wasn't really anxious to leave. I stayed and chatted with her teachers until she sat next to me and threw her hands up in the air saying "all done" in sign and we left. Both days she did short naps but was totally over stimulated from the day and an exhausted mess by bedtime. Today, I could tell she was tired when she got up. When I dropped her off, she kind of gave me this 'there is no way you expect me to do this another day' kind of look and she burst into sobbing tears. I restrained my own tears and exited quickly, figuring they have a better shot of distracting her when I'm not around.

I've kept my cellphone close these 3 days waiting for the call to come get her because she can't stop crying, but it hasn't come. The kid is just ready for this (despite the fatigue, presumably she'll learn how to nap in a noisy environment soon). She loves being around people and has already buddied up with a little boy who is about at the same physical stage (despite being 2 months younger and about 5 pounds heavier) and the two of them crawl around together.

It is hard to believe we've made it here, but here we are. It is daycare for 3 days a week and mom and daughter days for 2. I'm hopeful that this is a good balance for everyone.