1. Andrew got a new job.
2. We're moving.
Ok those things, I've been waiting to say on and off for about a year, ever since a recruiter contacted him from a very rad company in Pennsylvania and started us on a multi month interview process, that took a ton of excitement and time before finally going in a different direction. And then there was kind of a direction towards licensing and a job search and so on, but more specifically the last two weeks...
Signing the Acceptance of Offer!
1. Andrew got a job working for friggin' Blue Origin (Jeff Bezo's Space company) as basically a rocket scientist.
2. We're moving to Kent or Auburn or something first week of September because he starts on the 9th.
I feel like this last couple of weeks has been Andrew's revenge for when I didn't want to tell anyone about the pregnancy before it reached a more stable phase. Touche, husband, touche. Except both times, it's been me feeling nauseous and unable to sleep!
So, relief. Excitement. Yay. Oh wow that's some heavy sadness and...
oh early September you said? Um panic. Outright overwhelmed panic. Breaks out the craiglist and begins the frantic search.
Anyone got any boxes? Oh forget it. I think Andrew and I both liked my "burn down the house and all our possessions idea."
Alternately: Konmari death match - take everything you think sparks joy and be forced to live with it in a walk in closet sized studio for roughly a week to a month. THEN re-evaluate what you actually want.
I think it could make compelling television really. Xtreme not-quite-minimalism!!!
This last week, Andrew had another interview scheduled in San Francisco while we waited to hear on Blue. He figured he'd get refundable tix juts in case, but of course the offer didn't come until he was out there. So... bonus trip to SF! Party time. Excellent. And mommy and Chaya got to pioneer the birthday-proper all by themselves together between all the other festivities.
It was actually fairly grounding. Chaya's bedtime involves about 45ish minutes of parental "hanging out" in her room. Usually Andrew gets the bear's share of that time and everyone's just as happy with that arrangement due to the disparity of presence during the day. But when Andrew's away, it means I get it all. I'm intoxicated by that spell of bedtime. Chaya and I spend so much time together but so often with a million distractions. I feel like it's hard to say I devote as concentrated a chunk of all-my-love as I do when we reach bedtime. Chaya has fewer distractions.
We snuggle. We kiss. We battle. We tell stories. Chaya's tastes are a little morbid. Spiders in your eyes. Dead things. Mommy injuring her leg on a table (based on a true story, but SO MANY VARIATIONS!!). Chaya cutting off mommy's leg so that mommy couldn't walk anymore...
"Mommy tell a story about a wolf came and it ate Chaya and then it peed. Tell a story about THAT!"
A good reminder of those little times out of time that I sometimes forget in the loud woosh.
And speaking of times out of the woosh that are the woosh within themselves,
Yeah it was Chay's party technically on my birthday technically, but Chaya spent the day running around screaming "It's my birthday" and - while techincally the invitees were largely Chaya's friends and family, well... convenient overlap turns out. Pretty much a best hits of our favorite people from this area.
It was almost an overwhelming buffet of wonderful people I don't get quite enough time to catch up with.
Yay cupcakes! (I didn't actually eat one since we also had a ton of chocolate chip cookies and these Annie's Birthday Cake Graham Crackers that are kind of amazing - but the idea of cupcakes... man... the idea)
We had an entire platter leftover after the great icing carnage, so I told Andrew he absolutely HAD to bring the rest in to EI in order to give notice in the sweetest way possible. He said sure but he needed a 6 candle for his six years there. And we'll of course maybe remember to wipe the Happy Birthday icing off the array.
The little rings in each icing though? Who cares if they say Happy Birthday or not. wish I had some lettering to write "I'm Outtie!!"
After about 2 hours, the party-girl herself wound down hardcore so her grandmother took her back to the house and I made a few idle jokes about setting up the kegs and speakers for my leg of the party, but few takers. The rest of the families slowly trickled out over the course of an hour or so. It was...
A really nice little "Goodbye" party add on. Dang, I can't believe what great roots we have put down here even with the constant sense of limbo and non-attachment of impending departure. How wonderful to have lived in a place that makes leaving seem so sad even in the face of excitement. And to have lived so many places before of the same quality. Life has its luck doesn't it?
I feel like I could spend the next several months simply writing out how much I love and will miss every person who's become intwined in our lives here and in Bellingham. My sister and family who were visiting and my awe and their staggering evolution. My parents and their grandparental awesomeness. The dance friends of 14 years who've passed through so many different paths and courses with me as we add to our richer and richer families. The moms and then the dads whose children became Chaya's first besties and especially those who've become my sisters going on 5 years now. The preschool community that started so small and intimate and blossomed into a thriving organism that gets cooler and more populated with like zip-pow in each passing day. I could break it down to every parent of every friend Chaya's made. The teachers who might as well be Chaya's family and mos' def I'm lucky to count as my friends. The warm and unique congregation of Episcopalians who've basically installed Chaya's rowdy cheers as a feature of her service and the warm group of Jews who sing the all time best songs about dinosaurs coming to Shabat. The music class group we've been attending since Chaya was 14 months. Heck, the clerks at Fred Meyer's and Trader Joe's who know Chaya now and distract her from her candy-rages with stickers and a sweet word.
I'm gonna cry my ass off at random intervals (with big sentimental AWWWWWWS and random bouts of affection).
Which is a shame, because it's a lovely thing, my ass. Guess I'll just have to save some of those cupcakes for replenishment.