We made it to the weekend, but now I’m starting to get antsy again about the physical contract, the numbers, and the actual signing, proving that Josh actually has a job. I know it will come, but I hate moving forward (and spending money) on the promise of a job rather than the sure thing. That’s one thing I learned from military life, nothing is for sure until you see the papers and even then, it can still change.
But some things around here remain the same — like my girlie’s tendency to blow up and then poetically apologize. I didn’t save the note that says, “I’ll hate you until you die” (more like ‘I hat you until you dei’), but here’s the follow-up that I received about 10 minutes later.
One blue pill and 10 minutes later and she was snoozing away the tragedy and injustice that I wouldn’t let her watch TV on her iPad before bed. She has written me more letters in her seven years than all 3 boys combined. Times four.
(And yes, Calvin. You get credit for 90% of those.)
Whatever bug Camille had 2 days ago hit both Carter and me last night. We headed out to a celebration dinner as a family and once we arrived at the restaurant Carter said his stomach was hurting and only picked at his food. I should have known that would be the first sign of the apocalypse. Carter never turns down food.
We continued to eat, he ran to the bathroom twice to throw up (what a celebration, right?) and then we came home and tucked him into bed. My stomach started feeling queasy, but I thought that might have been the power of suggestion until I got sick myself. Ugh. It wasn’t food related, but a crazy fast acting stomach virus that chewed us up and spit us out 6 hours later.
From the highest highs to the lowest lows this week. Carter and I are still moving as if our bones were made of glass and sipping on broth to help rehydrate. We feel better, just tired and fragile. Josh has been caught in-between; not fully sick, but certainly not well. Hoping it bypasses Caleb altogether and that I have interesting things to write about tomorrow rather than more tales from the sickbed.
I had plans for a post yesterday about spending a sick day with Camille and then I got distracted because Josh called midday saying he had been offered the job!!! The timing caught us by surprise since it was well after midnight in the US on a Sunday night. His boss (future) called to let him know that the delay was because of a computer system issue, but she wanted him to know that he was the guy they chose, the official offer will be headed his way in a few days, and they are all looking forward to him joining their team.
Josh is thrilled and I’m back to feeling content, since I was sure he was the guy way back when. We’ll forget about the beginning where he sent me the job description, I read it and thought he had zero qualifications for the job (Masters in Business Administration and 20 years experience?), plus it required 80% travel so I emailed him and basically said, “heck no. That’s a deal breaker” and then my email server mysteriously started acting up and never sent the email to him.
I haven’t been on Facebook much (and not posting at all) but I’ve been catching posts here and there from military friends all retiring this year and I wonder how the process has been for them: do they have a job lined up? Are they moving “home?” What are their goals for “normal life?” (as opposed to military life) It’s one of the reasons I’ve been writing about our experience. Everyone says how hard it is, practically impossible, to retire from overseas, but we’re doing it. So far so good. It helps that we want to stay where we are, that Josh has a unique skill set suited for the region where we live, and that we’ve done a lot of thinking/research about what we will need to live here post retirement. It has taken a few extra international trips for classes and medical exams and we are going back to California to finish out the process, but hey, that’s home for us.
And now the biggest obstacle, setting up future employment, is behind us. I was joking with Josh that I’ve been waiting for the job offer to come in so I can write: Great news! #RetiredJosh is now also #EmployedJosh
The original, pre-job post below:
Today was a sick day. Camille woke up at 3am, started throwing up, and suddenly my slate was wiped clean for the day. I haven’t missed a day of work all year, but a puking kid trumps all. Thankfully I work with a fantastic team at school and they said they would cover my shift, no problem.
Meels and I watched Gilmore Girls in bed on my phone, each of us with one AirPod in, for the next several hours. Nothing like a little Netflix at 4am. Just a heads up — Gilmore Girls (even season 1) is not appropriate for a 7 year old.
right before the phone call came that woke her up –but it was about THE JOB so I didn’t mind at all
Of course by 8am she was a crab, and I was wishing I could go to work, but I persisted (no iPad during school hours) and she finally fell asleep.
She’s completely better today so it was either a quick bug or something she ate that needed to clear her system. It was a nice 24 hour break from normal life.
You knew I had to do it, right? That song has been begging to be a post title all week. Today was an easy day because I had no expectations. It’s Sunday. Nobody is working on the other side of the world. As soon as the window closed on the week in the US there was no chance of getting any news, so the tension left. That gives me 48 hours before things crank up again and I’m on pins and needles waiting for our future to be revealed.
I woke up this morning and the switch had flipped. I was in a good mood at the gym, got to work out with Josh, and I was happy to see all the kids at school . . . most of them anyway. I had had one tough afternoon last week and two adorable 6 grade girls stopped by my desk to make sure I was feeling better today. Things like that make the job worth it.
water games night at AWANA!
After school Camille and I finished up at the library and then we went to AWANA. Our last official meeting before end of year awards and movie night. Camille finished her book, I taught my last lesson and khalas, we are done. Sundays are usually exhausting because I’m going from beginning to end and we never get home before 8pm, but we finished well and I’m pleased. I thought I’d know by now if I’d be around to lead again next year, but I guess we’ll wait and see . . .
I figured it out. I feel exactly like I did past the due date of each of my pregnancies. Tired, cranky, stressed, over the entire thing and just wanting to move on to the next phase. Of course there was nothing problematic about my pregnant state and I could have continued on indefinitely except for the fact that I had had a finish line in sight and now I was past it. And that made it intolerable.
I’m 50 lbs lighter now, but I’m still getting the same kind of phone messages: “any news on the job?” Or “when will you hear?” And the expectant looks and raised eyebrows when we see people in person might as well be saying, “haven’t you had that baby yet?” rather than, “do you have the job yet?”
So if you see me, give me a wide berth. Not because of my huge belly this time, but because of the weight of expectations that I’m carrying between my shoulders.
