It took a lot of doing but we did it. We’re officially East Coasters again. It all started with a house. We wanted to move but didn’t have a firm date, a job, or a plan. Nevertheless, I was cruising the real estate sites (See “My real [estate] obsession”). I insisted that my husband find a job first, until I found my dream house online and had to have it.
My husband had been running into road blocks on his job search because recruiters would see his address and assume he’d want them to cover moving expenses, even though his cover letter clearly stated that he wouldn’t. So he was pushing to move without a new job. I vehemently objected, then I found the house, we reviewed our finances and we had a meeting of the minds. read more
My son slumped over in his chair at the dinner table. “Is he okay? Is he okay?” my husband asked, alarmed.
“He’s just looking around,” I said. He was. Like a turtle, pivoting on his neck, with a sleepy look on his face.
“He’s choking!” my husband said, and sprang into action. He thumped my son’s back. So did I, and my son’s head slumped. I stuck my finger into his mouth and felt teeth.
“OPEN YOUR MOUTH! OPEN YOUR MOUTH!” I said.. Oh my God, this could be it. We could lose him right now! I always thought if someone was choking, their mouth would automatically open but his didn’t. Thankfully, he did open his mouth when I said so and, as I worried my nail was too long and would scratch him, my finger reached for the back of his throat. I swept it, got some small pieces of sausage, and my son began to perk up and breathe. Breathe. It was the most beautiful breath I’d ever seen him take. read more
Thanksgiving is my second-favorite holiday, right behind Halloween. Mostly it’s the cooking – I love to cook Thanksgiving dinner — and the eating, of course, but Thanksgiving speaks to my spirit too. I practice gratitude on a daily basis – not just on Facebook in November – and it brings me a lot of peace and perspective.
I’ve got a lot to be thankful for this year. For one thing, we’re moving back home to Maryland. I wanted to write about it sooner (we’re not de-cluttering, we’re packing), but my husband hadn’t yet discussed the move with his boss. But now he has and I can say that the Fishers are coming home!!!
We’ve wanted to come home for a long time. We hate Seattle, for many reasons. I’ve written about it before so I won’t go into it, but if you’ve been reading the blog you’re familiar with our reasons. If not, see “What Matters Most, Navigating the Seattle Ice, Becoming a Play Date Player.” read more
“Evan French kissed me,” said my five-year-old daughter. We were sitting in the living room after dinner. She was just about to play cards with Daddy.
“What?” we both said.
“What’s a ‘French kiss?’” I asked her.
She stuck her tongue out and rotated it. “He put his tongue in my mouth.”
“Where did this happen?”
“At Kids Club,” she said — her after school program. “I tried to tell someone there, but they were too busy. He did it to my friend, too.”
My poor little girl. “I’m gonna call your school, Sweetie. When did it happen?” read more
Sometimes, in a marriage, everything you do as a couple clicks. Sometimes it doesn’t. I don’t know what the hell’s going on with my husband these days. He’s usually an attentive, compassionate guy and when I have a goal for the family, he supports me, but not lately.
He was out of town for three days this week, and usually I miss him, but this time I was glad he was going. He’s been working on de-cluttering the house for more than a month now – we’re drowning in toys and kids’ old clothes, yet every single weekend, he asks me what, exactly, he should get rid of. I told him what to trash at the beginning. I was specific. And the next week when he asked, I told him again. And the next week, again. And I’ve been as clear as I possibly can, but every weekend, the question comes up again. And every weekend I say the same thing. And, adding to the strife, the project keeps us physically apart, because, as any parent knows, it’s impossible to throw stuff away with kids around. We could be trashing concrete blocks and the kids would say, “Noo, I want to play with those!” So I take the kids out of the house and he stays at home and works on the project. read more