Earlier this month my in-laws came to visit. They flew halfway across the world to see and take care of SB. Who didn’t really approve of this change in her routine – not sure if she sensed that they were nervous or if it was just bad timing and their visit coincided with the onset of stranger anxiety. In any case, I had to come home early almost every day to console my baby. It’s humbling, in a way, being so important for a person. It makes me worry how she’d deal if something were to happen to me… Of course it’s also sweet and lovely and gives me extra cuddle-time with my daughter!
My in-laws have always complained about us living so far away, with the baby even more so. To some extent I can understand this, although their ideal – us living practically next door and them taking care of SB – isn’t anywhere close to mine. They are sweet and dote on this only living grandchild of theirs, but also somewhat narrow-minded and drain my energy rather quickly. On a trip with public transport, they got all worked up about a guy wearing nail polish. Welcome to pride central. (My parents visited this city over 20 years ago. My mom returned with a huge pride flag – she thought the colors were pretty.) I want SB to grow into a tolerant person. I feel a bit like an ungrateful bitch for not wanting them to take care of her full-time in the long term, but it just doesn’t seem right for me. (H doesn’t have strong feelings about this scenario either way.)
This year the old conflict about us living too far away got a new twist: our contracts are running out. And without at least one of us having a job we’d have to leave the country. So there were lots of discussions about where we should look for jobs. There also was an undertone of whether I really had to work, with how little SB is and all. Which all just piled onto my stress level.
Soon after we learned that my contact was not extended. Which is probably good in the long run as I haven’t been happy with this job lately, but it does scratch my ego. My boss’s comment that it might be nice for me to spend more time with SB didn’t help – sure, I’d have loved a longer paid maternity leave, but one of our salaries just isn’t enough to live in this city. (Also, way inappropriate. I can’t even go there.)
H is interviewing for a job in Europe which is a great fit for his professional background. I find myself really hoping this’ll work out, even though it means uprooting our lives again, probably saying goodbye to my original career plans, and staying home with SB for some time. Cue confused feelings. She is at an awesome stage right now and I’m sure this could be fun for a while. Mainly, it’s a twist I didn’t see coming at all.