forget whatever bullshit i said last time, BABIES ARE DAMN HARD.
this fish, for instance, is a fusspot recently. she wakes up an awful lot at night, apparently for no reason, and then whines a lot during the day. maybe she has a sore throat like i do. the last three days i have got nothing done. nada. its hard to get shit done when you only have one hand and a grumpy baby attached to your boob.
cordelia is moving to the french immersion stream. she has been asking about french for some time, shes been asking us to go to the french class next year. and the other day i just walked into the office and asked the receptionist about it. he lowered his voice and said “actually, there’s a spot open right now…” and the catch is, its now or never. shes not allowed to switch to french next year because she’ll go into grade one, and they kinda lock in all their french kids by then and it gets more intense language-wise so they dont allow other kids to join in. so i spoke to cordelia about it and at first she was totally adamant – no french! no no no! she would not leave her current friends and her teacher and the class that she knows. we tried to explain the concept of the now or never problem to her. switch to the french stream now, set yourself up for bilingualism for life. or… not.
at first, i thought that putting your kid in french immersion seemed like such a rich white, yoga-going, starbucks drinking thing to do. (and it is.) but then i thought about how much french i retained after many many years in the public school system. i can say my name is and ‘i like cheese’ and i have memories of a creepy pineapple puppet, and i think that’s about it. for 6 years of french class, taught by generally not every competent teachers, and that’s all i got to show for it. then it started to look like this: why not? the opportunity is here to enrich her life with a second langue, for free, why not take it?
so she thought about it for a day and we broached the subject again. she was very nervous, but she agreed to try it out. so, on monday, shes going to a new class, with two of her friends from last year. that will help smooth the transition for her. but shes gotta be brave as she is pretty scared.
we are thinking its bout time to get a house. we will wait until the new year to really start looking around, because all the full-time jobs come out over christmas and jim will apply to them, and then if he gets one it will adjust our budget (for the better) and the locations to look for houses. i have always had it in my head that we would end up in the country. i have been moving to the country since i was a kid – i was always absolutely certain of this. but i recognize that my attachment to wanting to live in the country will hold us back. i want to raise my kids in a place where they are exposed to lots of cultures, lots of religions, and generally nice liberal people. they had a diwali celebration at the school a few weeks ago – how cool is that? i can’t remember doing that when i was 5, and i bet it doesn’t happen in the boonies either. one of cordelias friends at school is a teeny little girl with a name i cannot pronounce and the most beautiful dark brown skin. bet that doesn’t happen in the country so much either.
i like being in a place where i can walk to what i want. i think its a bad idea for my mental health to up and move away from my friends, and those important helpful grandparents. i want to apply to midwifery, so we need to stay in the city for that. jims work is here. my work is here.
if we got a house, we could get a dog. a spinning wheel. foster another future guide dog. we could get a better kitchen sink. we could be rid of downstairs emperor qin. i could paint it, fill it with beautiful things. that’s not important, except it is a little bit. and waiting until we can “move to the country” could be a really, really long time.
but i still want chickens.
so we talked about it and decided that we would raise our girls in the city, and maybe have a summer home or a cottage or something. and then once the girls were all grown up and moved out, if we still wanted to, we could get our little farm house then. we would be in our 40’s at the very least. that’s plenty of life left for chicken tending.
it will probably change. maybe by then we will be so firmly rooted in our lives that we wont want to change it. i have no idea where i’ll be when i’m 40. what my life will look like by then.