I took the dog to Swarthmore. I didn’t initially. At first I told the boys we were each taking one backpack. And the cello, and the violin, and my laptop.
If you’re wondering how deeply I was in denial that I was really moving, consider that the boys and I wore the same three outfits for one month before I broke down and bought more clothes at Target.
I had my husband bring the dog. He said the dog would get run over in the city.
While I had the dog in one hand and I waved goodbye in the other, he rolled down the car window: “Are you sure? I’m not dropping everything to come back here to pick him up to bury him.”
If you’re wondering how deeply my husband fears his ability to survive in a city, consider that he thinks city people send their dead pets out to the country to be buried.
Now the dog and I wait to find out if my husband is moving here. And we keep on living here while we are not knowing. I thought the dog might entice my husband to stay. The dog is probably thinking the same about me.
I am cooking on a crappy oven while my $12,000 oven is at the farm. So I thought maybe I’d ship it here. I guess I should wait to see if he’s moving here. If he’s not moving here I should leave him an oven. Not that he uses an oven, but it doesn’t seem nice to leave him in a house with no oven. Or maybe I should only ship it here if he doesn’t move here because if he doesn’t move here then we are probably not married anymore and I don’t want him to get the oven.
Do I sound like I’ve lost my mind? Do I sound like I’ve lost track of what problem I’m trying to solve?
Do you know what this feeling reminds me of? Trying to decide to homeschool. I was worried about so many things that didn’t matter (learning to read) and I thought things were interdependent that were not (friends and school).
When you make a big change it’s easy to conflate small problems so they look like big problems. And it’s easy to get sidetracked by issues that have no solution, like, how will I ever feel like I have a home (how will I know if I’m teaching my kids enough?).
Okay. So I’ve been here before. If I could go back to the start of homeschooling I’d tell myself don’t worry so much. Things will be fine.
What is the corollary? I guess don’t worry – if he decides to move here or if he stays on the farm, the kids and I will be fine either way.
Okay. I can see that. But it’s not consoling to me. Which makes me think that people who worry about ovens and curricula are people who choose to worry because it’s comforting.