Son of a . . .

This is our new favorite wine. It's so nice to have a new favorite wine. Having a new favorite wine means two things: 1) we have a few extra bucks to spend on the wine; and 2) we have the time to not only search out new wine, but to drink it. Bitch is a wonderful grenache blend from Australia. It's amazing. So amazing that when I called Ed last night to pick some up after grading papers he foundthe wine was sold out of the place we originally found it and needed to be ordered. He did come home with another granache blend, bless his heart.

Normally, I don't imbibe on the weekdays (at least not before Wednesday), but I had my 'finalist' interview with the president and provost of MassBay community college yesterday afternoon, and like all of my job interviews lately, I leave feeling exhuasted and certain I fucked up. Of course, I did as fine as I could, but when imagining the two other rock star teachers I'm up against, my 'fine' doesn't seem to stand up. And, of course, I pump myself up for four days before the interview with positive thoughts, research, and confidence (it helps to have a performance consultant in the house) -- so much so that as soon as the interview is over, my low-self-esteem demons seize their chance to invade my thoughts, reeking havoc on my well-won and well-deserved confidence by shoving endless second-guesses about what I should have said or could have said better. By the time Jack was in bed last night, I was going to finish either a bottle of wine or the cookie dough batter in the fridge that Jack helped us make this weekend. Tanins are better for you than butter.

Anyway, I find out in a few days whether or not this next year will provide secure steady income, insurance, and an unbelievably grueling teaching schedule (five classes a semseter plus committee work); or if the year will provide the unstable, if not familiar scramble to teach a handful of courses at various community colleges and drum up freelance work. Like anything, all I hope for is the grace to deal with whatever life brings.

For instance, Jack has been bringing a special blend of grumpiness. He seems to go in these boughts of sheer unhappiness, as if the world is against him (wonder where he gets that...). He has been crying more than usual when I leave him at daycare and by the end of the day, when he's home, nothing makes him happy, regardless if he was with me all day or not. In the morning, he looks up at me from his crib and softly says, "I wanna stay home." It takes every fiber of my being to get him up and prepare him for the reality of his day at daycare (which he does enjoy, but must not remember that until five minutes after I leave). The thing is, if we don't keep him going, it will be that much harder in the fall when he as to go more often. Right? Right? I'm not working this week (other than cleaning out the basement) because the freelance project I'm working on is back to the client until September. I'm beginning to think that life is partially about learning to live as if you are breathing steadily, even if you are holding your breath. Anyway, I have a hunch that Jack has realized that the good life: nana visits, being home with momma and daddy, and trips to the beach are by far preferable to day care and seeing momma and daddy only a few hours a day. Duh.

Ed finishes up one of the classes he's teaching next week, and the other the week after that. We'll have about two weeks to devote to Jack (and the beach). That should make us all good and ready to tackle another year.

Cheers.