Not All Who Wander Are Lost

I'm back.

Princeton was better than I expected. Suprisingly New Englandesque, and the housing market is a bit terrifying, but it was nice to finally find two jobs that excite me in all the right ways. Two very, very different jobs, at two very, very different schools. But both felt like they could be home.

More, though, I feel like this was the trip where I hit my stride. Not sure how, but I left both places feeling like I showed the best of me, in the best possible light, without faltering or faking it. I was honest, and in doing so proved to myself that this really is what I'm supposed to be doing with my life, and amazingly so. I'm reasonably sure I impressed them; I know I impressed me.

Now, if they decide to go with someone else, it'll be because they decided they want someone else, not because I was weak. If they do pick a different candidate, it'll have to be for one of two reasons: they can be better at being me, or because the someone else that they are was a better fit for the job.

Either way, I think I can live with that.

I even think I can embrace it.

But it hardly matters anymore. Three days, two schools, and a whirlwind tour of the Princeton area later, I'm ready to put the jobsearch on hold for a while.

Because once I figured out that getting a job won't be a miracle but a triumph, I was finally able to come to terms with the true miracle in my life: little nameless, the baby-to-be.

Not to mention the family that spins around me, the storm to my eye, as the date grows ever closer.

We're coming into the home stretch with but three full days to go before our early Thursday morning C-section appointment. Since coming home the exhilliration of the jobsearch has been slowly supplanted by anticipation. Just this evening, I felt the first stirrings of crest-of-the-roller-coaster excitement deep in my gut.

Incidentally, for those keeping track of the blog over time, no, I didn't stay in Princeton for longer than intended. I've been back since late Friday night. But somehow, after coming home, family seemed so much more important than blogging. So no, I didn't write last night. Fell asleep putting the kid to bed instead. And no, I didn't write when we were at the library today for my poetry reading -- not when there was a neighborhood kiddie pool party waiting back home.

Heck, the only reason I'm here now is that Darcie wanted one last shot at putting Willow to bed before the infant took over her life completely, and before the C-section kept her from bedsharing with the older one at bedtime.

I know blogging is important for local reasons -- for my sanity, and in no small part because I want to leave the blog as a record for my children. But blogging for family will never beat being with family. I know how easily experience can be supplanted by the recording of experience; I've seen folks forget to put the lens down, and miss the life they're trying to record. I'd rather have no photos, no blog, no words, and a mess of true memories any day.

Expect little for the next few days, too. With only four nights left as a family of three, I'm sticking to my priorities, thanks.