First the bitter, then the sweet:
I sent an application out yesterday to a newspaper in New Braunfels. I received an email today from the managing editor asking when we could talk on the phone. To say I was excited is an understatement.
Then, when Eric got home, I asked him to double-check the Ryan Web site to make sure they still had an opening in San Antonio or even in the Austin office. This way I could speak more confidently if it comes up tomorrow about my availability because it’s an immediate opening. This is where it went down hill and I’m still trying to pull myself out of a muddy ditch over it. In short, Eric tells me he’s not sure he can transfer offices for uncorroborated reasons X, Y, and Z, and without going into any of our personal conflicts over things like this, my job search is completely constrained by his job. Words cannot explain how it feels when eight years of hard work are constrained to the walls of a rinky-dink apartment in the Apartment Hell section of Far North Dallas. I’ll leave it at that, except to say I’m putting on a good face tomorrow for the phone conversation. I hope the girls cooperate.
Which brings me to the sweet. It was an amazingly blah, vanilla kinda day today. I had no car because Eric’s still isn’t back from repairs, our insurance coverage ran out on the rental last week, and I didn’t want to spend four hours driving him back and forth to Denton today (or the rest of the week) in the middle of the morning and afternoon rush hours. I’m turning Katie into a couch potato because all she did was watch tv while I dealt with a fussy baby all day. Katie napped just fine, but she was a wreck by bed time from lack of stimulation today.
Bed time started out like a nightmare. I suspect this is directly related to my sour mood at 8 pm. I didn’t even want to look at Eric (I’m still avoiding eye contact at 11:45), I was so upset with him. But Katie was in rare form, throwing things, hitting, and biting Eric from behind the baby gate on the entrance to her room, pounding on the door when he closed it, shrieking and screaming. We finally reached a moment of detente, but Katie wasn’t giving in to Eric.
She had been screaming to snuggle with me, but I wouldn’t do it while she was throwing a fit in addition to any unsecured items in her path. When she was calming down (but not calm, mind you), I stepped in to her room and sat Zuzu in her crib, and sat next to Eric on her bed. Five minutes later, she had apologized to her father (“No! He’s no my fadder, he’s Eh-wic!”) and she and I were snuggling on the bed. I even got some giggles out of her.
This was the moment I began to think her mood was related to mine and my distraction through the day. But I apologized to her for such a lousy, boring day. I said I understand that she gets mad; I get mad, too. I asked her to use her words next time and I will also. She nodded, eyebrows furrowed, occasionally shuddering from crying so hard earlier. Then, when I said we’ll use our words again, she said, “We’ll sing, too!”
It was wonderful. I don’t remember the transition, just her sweet blue eyes looking at me, but Katie and I then planned her “Happy Birthday” party: chocolate cupcakes with strawberry icing, balloons, hot dogs (with bread, she said), noodles (mac and cheese), cookies, and candy. Also- she was very specific about this- a cat present, an alligator present, and a star present. We’ll run through the sprinkler. We went over the guest list. So, it’s a date.