First a positive note: your responses to the last post were priceless. Thank you for that. I had some great laughs.
Now, on to today. I am officially mad at myself. It is BG’s 13-month birthday, but I have yet to write his 12-month post. Boo me. I am sure to get to it soon, but for now I have complaining to do.
Baby Genius is sick again. Before he turned one, Baby Genius had been sick once when he was five months old. Now he has had three illnesses in the space of a month. He has had no more than a week’s worth of healthy days in between, and it is so, so sad. This time he has J’s cold, a really mean, nasty, long-lasting cold that is sure to bowl him over for over a week. It is heartbreaking to try to nurse him because he tries and tries to nurse but can’t breathe, so he stops, cries, lies there looking pitiful, and then starts the whole process again. I sincerely hope he has an easier go of this than J did.
But the parade of illnesses is not the half of it. We have talked for some time about leaving this town, and we had a pretty good plan to save up and move this winter break. This Friday was J’s first payday after our very long struggle to stay above water this summer, and upon coming home, we had a letter on the door from our crooked landlord informing us that our rent will go up by $150 in December–that we have the choice of signing either a one-year lease at this new rate, a six-month lease at the new rate, or we can give 30 days notice. Now, technically it’s like 60 days, but still. We either stay here in a place that isn’t nearly worth what they’re trying to charge, in a town we hate, or we get on the ball and find a way to move in the next two months. It’s terrifying and infuriating, but it’s also a little exciting to think we may soon actually be in the town we want to be in–if the stars align and miracles happen.
So I’ve begun the mad hunt for a new rental that we can afford, all the while trying to fit in extra hours at work, and I’m panicking a little too because there is only so much one can do with a sick baby. But holy crap, we’re going to move, and I’m going be packing up this house while J is at work. It’s perfect timing really. Baby Genius has just gotten really good at placing things “in.” Time to put the boy to work.