Much like his father, Connery is something of a clotheshorse. It doesn't hurt that he has two grandmothers who love to buy him great duds and a mother who delights in dressing him in said duds. Still, perhaps we've taken things a bit far. This morning, I was getting him into a new sweater vest/polo shirt combo, festooned with colorful sailboats. He's been excited about wearing this sweater all week. As I was adjusting it, he said to me, "I think Kendall is really going to like this sweater." What two-year-old predicts the impact of his attire on the older girls at school?
Meanwhile, we're desperately trying to figure out oh, say, our whole lives. We've decided not to buy my grandfather's house from my parents, which means that my parents will be selling it before the end of the year, which means we need to find someplace new to live. That decision has all the predictable ramifications--do we stay in Livingston, where Connery has a safe and happy pre-school but where there are few opportunities for me to find traditional employment? Do we move to Belgrade, a growing community much closer to Bozeman, where we would need to find a new school for Connery but where there would also be more opportunities for enrichment? House or condo? Rent or buy? Paper or plastic? And then there's the overriding question of whether we can make it longterm in Montana. There are so many advantages to being here, but are we leveraging our future by settling for far lower wages in an area in which living expenses are no longer notably lower?
I told Chip the other day that adulthood sucked. There are just too many variables, too many compromises, too many worries. I try to tell myself that things will work out as they are supposed to, but it's hard to trust in that.
Luckily, I have a small, persistent toddler to keep me from dwelling on it too much.