… are pretty thin on the ground at the moment. There is so much to decide, we haven’t even made a dent in it all. I usually try to attack a large problem by compartmentalizing it, but right now I’m too scrambled even for that. I’ll probably be working it out in this blog, so expect me to be even more unnecessarily verbose than usual.
Oh, congratulations. So an end to the single mama gig, hurray! I hope it goes smoothly with the boys.
Umm, yes, that is one compartment. Or possibly several. It’s not an immediate end to the single mama gig, because DrBob has to be up there in September (he’s hoping they’ll start his contract in August, as it’s a fairly demanding job they’ve given him , and he may need a running start), and that is Just. Too. Soon. Too soon for him to get everything ready for us to move up there while simultaneously starting a new job, too soon for the kids to adjust to the idea, too soon to sell this house – our neighbors just found a buyer, after months and months, and after reducing their asking price significantly, says Mrs. I didn’t ask how much they wanted, or how much they got, because such things are generally Not Done here, but I’ll have to ask soon, because that would be incredibly useful information. OurTown is still expanding, and a local company is building houses and houses and houses, so it’s a buyer’s market right now. On the other hand, a superfast commuter-road-to-Munich project has just gotten clearance, so a lot more people will be wanting to move here in a year or two.
There. See how I break the information down into bite-sized pieces and then hyperfocus on the insignificant? Major defense mechanism, right there.
A smooth transition for the boys? HUGE question, with multiple compartments. That’s one of the things I’m avoiding right now, it’s just too big. DrBob and I are “arguing” about whether to move up mid-year, or wait until the summer vacation. I put “arguing” in air-quotes because we are not really in conflict with eachother about it, we just repeat the arguments of both sides to eachother, and agree that it’s a tough question.
We are arguing about when to tell the kids. I favor honesty and giving them as much time as possible to adjust to the notion, he wants to avoid telling them the truth for awhile. With regard to his parents, I like his plan, because my FIL is a total pity whore, and we just don’t want to have to deal with his histrionics for the next however-many months. But I don’t want to lie to my kids, for a lot of reasons. Sigh. So I talked to them about it without clearing it with DrBob, which was probably the wrong thing to do, but he was out of town for the evening, it came up, and I didn’t want to hedge. I told them that the move was looking more and more likely, that something could still stop it, but we needed to start talking about it as something that’s going to happen so we can decide how best to manage it.
Ignatz says it would help him if we didn’t keep talking about it. I mentioned that if he wants to have a say in any of the decisions we make, we’ll need to talk about it, but if he wants to avoid the whole thing and just let us take care of it, we can do that too. I think denial is an acceptable approach for now: dwelling on things isn’t always the best idea, and the information will be percolating in his subconscious for awhile. He can bring it up when he’s ready to talk about it.
The Sniglet? Is seven. He’s not keen on moving, but he’s the kid, we’re the parents, and we make the decisions, basically. I mean, we’ll do all we can to ease the transition for him, but he can’t have too much input because he doesn’t really have any kind of perspective on the situation. Ignatz, halfway between childhood and adulthood, needs to be protected like a child, but not powerless like a child. It’s a difficult balance.
After all that, I’ll have to leave Nate’s question for tomorrow, but Melanie’s and Knitlady’s are easy: Yes, of course! That would be awesome!
Food today: soccer game + Opa’s birthday party + tae kwon do event = spaghetti, with sauce from a jar. I’m sorry, it was either that or toast, after the day we had.