Triplicate

Artist: Brian Kershisnik

1. I got a job.

2. I got a job!

3. I got a job?

. . .

1. The straight-forward version is that an incredible opportunity has come up at a terrific national non-profit organization I've long admired. It wasn't the precise timing I was anticipating doing this but it does feel right for our family and we have all felt sweet assurances that it is indeed the thing to do, on many levels and for many reasons. I'll be the director of program research and development and I start Monday. The eventually has arrived, the season for this.

2. It is the exact kind of job I always said I would eventually like to do when people asked "so what are you going to do with that degree, teach?" (I would say something like "I do love teaching but I'd really like to help lead a foundation or non-profit, connecting research and practice to help children and families in innovative ways," not sure if there were, in fact, jobs with all of those elements at once). In fact, I have the eery feeling that someone was secretly taking notes or that my words flew out and become some kind of seedling that cultivated this particular, newly created job. They are paying me to come up with ideas! To have a big-picture perspective! To pilot new programs and innovate and connect the dots...and then hand off those things to someone to do the nitty gritty implementation.

3. And yet. Still, I'm nervous. And terrified. 90% excited (or, honestly, sometimes 74%), but the rest rather terrified. I worry about other people's opinions. I worry about logistics. I worry whether I'm up to the task. I worry worry worry but it's all the kind of uninspired fear that is unhelpful and belittling, the kind you have to tell fear, go sit in the corner until you're more productive. Each concern I've had has been resolved (Oh you want to be home in the afternoons? Sure, you can work an earlier, flexible schedule) but still I ruminate about things, long after the calm, right decision was made. Yesterday morning I expressed some worries to G as he got ready for work. I leaned against the kitchen counter in my pajamas (pajamas! they won't let me wear pajamas to work, will they?) and quietly wailed "what if I'm not doing the right thing?" He looked me in the eyes, kissed my forehead and whispered you're doing the right thing. Which is, of course, just what I needed.

. . .

Just wanted to say that today.

And I'll still be here. Here and here. 

To be continued...

45

Three cheers for G, the leader of our band,

the peach in our pie,

the ink in my pen,

the twinkle in my eye,

the beat of my heart.

45 today.

{p.s. All of my sentiments on other birthdays still apply, too: 43, 42, 41}

. . .

1. yes, he's a studly scout and always prepared. I love that he apparently forgot to take off his shoes before his pants.

2. this is how I first knew him, as a big-brother-type protector and friend in high school, laughing from the back of the bus

3. Woo-woo! Rocking the short shorts on a 50 mile hike.

4. I love it when people remark how much Sam looks like G. As templates go, G is a pretty marvelous one.

Playing Charade

Sometimes at our house it's hard to find a movie that will please everyone, that is romantic and visually pleasing enough (and not too scary, please) for Maddy and exciting and funny and suspenseful enough for Sam. (Yes, that was quite gender stereotypical but what can you do. That's really what they each like in a movie.) This was a hit for both last weekend:

Maddy, a fan of all things Audrey Hepburn and retro, got the dvd for Christmas. I couldn't remember enough about it to know for sure if Sam would like it but it's funny and reminiscent of Hitchcock with lots of plot twists. It's probably still a little much for younger kids (murders and all, you know) but if you've got kids 11-18, try it. And then I challenge you not to hum the theme song for several days afterwards. (Look! Hulu shows it for free.) 

. . .

Many moons ago, I had this idea to suggest off-the-beaten-path movies for children and families. I did a few (okay, three) and it seems like a good time to start back up since it's come up in several conversations and emails lately.

Tiny books, lots of happy

Right after New Year's I saw a little write-up about a company called Printstagram that made tiny books from your instagram photos. It was $10 so I thought why not? It took just a few clicks to choose which photos I wanted to upload and then I forgot all about it until they arrived today (from Taiwan?) and they're just about the cutest things you ever did see. They actually came in not one but three little volumes representing our 2011 year in instagram photos. They are even magnetic so they've taken up happy residence on our fridge. So fun! Now my mind is buzzing with possibilities...valentines, birthdays, little books of favorite things, future stocking stuffers...

$3.33 for each little book of photos. What's your favorite low-cost, high-happiness thing lately?

Love note

I enjoyed this letter that was featured yesterday on Letters of Note. Since I have a daughter with a bit of a sad heart this week, I thought I'd post it here. I like to think of it as John Steinbeck's version of liner notes, writing about love to his son Thom who was away at school.

. . .

New York
November 10, 1958

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First—if you are in love—that’s a good thing—that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second—There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you—of kindness and consideration and respect—not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply—of course it isn’t puppy love.

But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it—and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone—there is no possible harm in saying so—only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another—but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens—The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,

Fa

. . .

Speaking of love, I am pretty giddy to hear that Once (remember how much I loved the movie?) is opening as a musical on Broadway next month. I predict an adventure to the big city in the next few months. Anyone want to join me? Though as my friend Jen noted, we will miss Glen Hansard and his lovely Irish voice.