I got the job offer (re-offer) the day after my interview last week. They basically offered me the old job back at the same pay. I countered, but they didn't play ball. No biggie (kinda). But because quality daycare is so insanely expensive, and this job doesn't pay as much as it would back in California, it's kind of hardly worth doing it. Okay, that's not totally true, but I wish they did throw me a bone when I asked for a tad bit more.
So now I'm spending lots of time trying to find suitable daycare for Calvin--preferrably at a "school" that has Georgia Pre-K funding and spots available for the fall. I can't believe Calvin will be 4 in July. Boggles my mind how quickly he is growing up. We're going to tour 3 more locations tomorrow. I know when I find the right place I will know it. Just gotta find that place.
I'm having some anxiety about going back to work. I was only there 7 weeks before I was laid off. That was almost a full year ago. Obviously, some anxiety is normal, especially considering what has been going on with us lately. But I know going back to work will be good for all of us--for me, for Calvin (he's dying to have more consistent interaction with kids his age), and for our family's budget. So it's off to work I go. Well, in a couple of weeks that is (March 1).
I want to get another tattoo. I want to honor Addison. The ones I have are generic and really have no meaning (butterfly, heart, dragonfly with trail of stars). I just think they're pretty, really. Like any other accessory. But there is a lot of pressure to do this one right because it really means something. I'm still thinking about it.
My therapist wants me to do a sand tray to honor Addison. She mentioned it at my session today and I broke down in tears. I don't even know why. We really hardly talk about Addison. We talk about communication issues, growing up in dysfunctional families, building self esteem. These things are important, and I'm really learning a lot from her. I took psychology and even minored in sociology in college. None of this is really new for me. But it all takes on new meaning when you actually embrace the information given. So, the sand tray. We're going to do it next week. I don't totally get it, but apparently you just "play" in a sand tray (choose wet sand or dry sand tray) and use figurines she has all over the room to symbolize the experience with Addison. I feel a lot of pressure to do it "right," and I expressed that to her. But of course there is no right or wrong. We both know how fucked up I am already--who cares what I do in the sand. :-)
So, it must be something about people who cut hair for a living. I suppose there aren't many things a stranger can discuss with a 3-year-old besides siblings and Yo Gabba Gabba. Chris and Calvin both went to get haircuts this past Saturday. I went back with Calvin, but ended up backing off because he did a better job of not squirming this time when I wasn't hovering (he is very ticklish, so sometimes I need to help hold his head while they use the clippers around his ears or on his neck). Another employee there hung out for a few minutes with Calvin while he got his hair cut, and then she hurried up to the front of the store. She looked concerned and asked, "Did your daughter die?" I said, "Yes," as I quickly tried to recall who this person was and how she knew that information. She went on to say, "Oh, your son told us." Yep, that's my boy. He knows he has a sister; he knows that she died. And I'm glad he knows he's a big brother. He has actually taken to using one of her soft blankets at bedtime. At first I was hesitant to let him use it due to the Freak Factor, but after he asked a few times to use one of "Addi's" blankets, I finally gave in. Seriously, his sister freakin' died. Is using her blanket really going to damage him? It's funny because we never referred to her as Addi, but somehow Calvin has started referring to her as such. Coming from him, it's especially sweet.
I've avoided blogging lately because, frankly, it requires too much concentration. Even staying somewhat on topic is difficult for me right now. I really hope I don't crap out at this job. Ugh!
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I got a tattoo for Calvin Rebecca. I wanted something to symbolize what I have lost, his place in our family and the relationship between his twin sister Georgia and him. It's huge, it covers the entire right side of my back from hip to shoulder and the pain was excruciating but I'm glad I got it. He will always have a place in my heart and my love for him is out there now and if people ask about my tattoo, I get to tell them about the beautiful baby boy I lost at six days old.
ReplyDeleteYour bit about Calvin telling the hairdresser about Addison reminded me so much of Lorelei when we lost her brother, she'd tell anyone who would listen. She was also three at the time and we'd be out somewhere and the first thing she'd do is announce "Calvin died, he went to God." It was horrifying for me to deal with because more often then not, adults would ignore her when she'd talk about her brother. I felt strongly that her feelings needed validating so I started answering her, "Yes, Calvin died honey. He's with God now and we are sad because we miss him but we're going to be okay." Amazingly, once I started saying things in response, the other adults were more likely to acknowledge her feelings and the fact that her sharing was her way of processing what had happened to our family. It's so hard sometimes to remember that our children also grieve in their own ways and that their feelings need taking care of too. Sending you hugs