Remember this? Did you even read it a year ago?
Here’s a snippet from the end of that post:
The opportunity to move back has been offered a few times. More than a few, to be perfectly honest. Deep down, I wanted to move back – WE wanted to move back – yet I turned them all down. We made excuses to keep everything the same. Moving down here was easy, because it was just Sarah and I; two able-bodied adults that can care for themselves and be accountable for their actions. The baggage we will be bringing back has a heartbeat and is one hundred percent dependent on us to do the right thing.
I took the first of many huge steps yesterday. I told my boss that I was ready and that I would like to talk about my options. I just hope this decision isn’t one opportunity too late.
So, now, one very small gear in a very large clock has begun to turn, and quite frankly, I’m scared.
Eleven months ago, I told my manager that, while I love my job and all the freedoms it affords me, a move was in order. Since then, him and I have had many conversations about time-frames and opportunities. Soon, I would be hand-picked to assist with a project in New York. Soon, my brain would be rattled from all the information flowing into it. Soon, I would be working long hours, and long weeks, and be away from home for days at a time.
Soon, I would have five interviews for a yet to be created position back home. Soon, I would be offered the job.
Two weeks ago, I officially accepted.
I don’t know how to characterize what I’m feeling, mostly because it’s an emotional Smörgåsbord. Fear, anxiety, glee, worry. I know that I’m doing the right thing, both personally and professionally, but all those emotions are still there. I suppose that I should be more concerned if I didn’t feel those varying emotions.
So, Sarah and I spent many hours – and days – cleaning the house, painting, performing minor repairs, and trying to *keep* the house clean while a two year old monster terrorized the place. It’s now “on the market,” and our fingers are crossed that it sells before my March 1st start date. If not, I’ll have to commute to work, which may mean that I’ll only be home on weekends for a while. Oh, and have I mentioned that Baby Squiggles (the nickname we’ve chosen for the baby – of unknown gender – in Sarah’s 29 weeks pregnant belly) will be born on February 8th? Crazy times. If you know anyone that is looking for a very lovely home in a small town in Indiana, I’ve got exactly what you need.
But… this is all for the greater good. We remind ourselves of that fact every time we think about the worst-case scenario of Sarah being stuck at home with a 2 year old and a newly born infant for a few days at a time. I fear that it’ll be too much for her. I fear that Tyler won’t adjust well to the new baby and to my absence. I fear that Squiggles won’t know or grow attached to his very loving and dedicated daddy. But it’s all for the greater good…