Poor Waiter

No, I am not referring to an impoverished or unfortunate or subpar restaurant server. The poor waiter, I've discovered, is me. Some people are poor losers. I'm a poor waiter.

(I guess I'm a poor loser too. I was furious when I lost the 5th grade speech contest to Donald Burr. He kept his note cards two inches from his nose for the ENTIRE speech and WON, even though one of the categories we were evaluated on was "eye contact." I thought the judges cut him way too much slack for being legally blind.)

Anyhow, it's been a while since I posted anything here. That's not because I've had a lot going on. Quite the opposite. I've been mostly bored and discouraged. Not fun to experience, not fun to write about, not fun to read about.

For the past few weeks, I've felt something like this: someone has pushed the "pause" button on my life, and I have no idea when the button will be pushed again and life will resume. Shaun started applying for jobs like mad and...nothing. I sat at home and waited for news. Even a "thanks, but no thanks" would be welcome.

Having closely observed Shaun's last job search, I know that companies take their sweet time getting back to applicants. Even if they want said applicant. Still, every day seemed like an eternity of nothing happening.

There were, of course, a few events to break up the tedium. Willem's fingernail finally fell off. We'd been carefully tending to it since he smashed his finger with a rock several weeks ago. The boys got colds, got over them, and got new ones a week later. The new and improved cold featured the appearance of a hacking cough in the wee hours of the morning.

Also noteworthy: we received a lowball offer on our house, our first and (to-date) only offer. There were a few nail-biting days of negotiation before the offer-makers walked away altogether.

Somehow I've managed to be extremely bored and extremely tense at the same time. Imagine how my poor family has suffered. Finally, God in his mercy saw fit to relieve us all of the tyranny of my mood.

So! This past Sunday night we WENT OUT. WITH FRIENDS. WE HAD A BABYSITTER. I crawled out of my swamp of dejection and had a lovely time out in the world. The Hamiltons secured their babysitter and brought their baby over to be sat with our kids. Not just any babysitter, I tell you. Her soft voice and too-good-to-be-true love of children had me checking over her shoulder for bluebirds or any assorted woodland creatures which might have been following her charming self about. The boys were good, though I would not have been surprised to receive a doctor's bill for the reattaching of the dear babysitter's ear after Nels finally stopped talking to her.

Occasions which have long been anticipated have a way of letting one down. Not this time. (Did I mention the mercy of God?) We had a delicious dinner downtown. We had inexpensive drinks at an old-timey bar. We saw Vampire Weekend (it's a band, mom) at a smallish bar/club, and every moment was jolly good fun. Even when it started snowing.

I guess I'm on a roll now, because I ventured out again tonight and had a very interesting evening. I'll tell you about it later. If you've stuck with this post this far, you're obviously related to me or a much dearer friend than I deserve.