On Plans and Progress
I've been thinking about the process by which most of my crazy plans are formed. Generally, I think, "My life will be significantly improved if I can just make XYZ major change."

Cases in point are: law school, changing from resources law to family law career, getting married, having a baby, getting into university daycare, working for myself, and, finally, moving to Greece.

With the exceptions of getting married and having a baby, none of those things have significantly improved my life directly, although I suspect indirectly they've contributed, as every choice does, to the joys that I enjoy today.

But during the process, I find more and more ways to justify my choice and become less and less concerned with the disadvantages. I evolve into surety. I know I've made the right choice and I move on.

This time though, with the tickets bought and Plan A underway, I am scared. While I believe my marriage is rock solid, I am worried about my kids being away from their dad. I love watching them all together, and I feel like we are going to miss out on something very tangible and very wonderful.

I do believe, though, that it is in furtherance of a better life for our family over the long-term. It is a sacrifice, but, as sacrifices go, it is probably counterbalanced by a lot of positives by being not that bad.

I hope I will be strong enough to mother these two well by myself (with my extended family). It is SO HARD. If I didn't have a million other things to do all the time, that would be one thing, but just being constantly needed, whined at, and pulled on is starting to piss me off. The whining, which Mimi turns around after being told to stop and having the difference between telling and whining for the umpteenth thousandth time, drives me out of my mind.

I don't think I'm depressed to the point that a little exercise and some sunshine wouldn't cure, but exercise and sunshine aren't really in my cards right now, and I'm thinking something from the pharmacy at this point might be a better alternative than something from Breyers or Hostess or Entemanns.

Progress in our house is evident. Frank is cruising around and constantly challenging Mimi to share everything. He wants to be right there with her doing what she's doing. I am humbled by their friendship. They were playing in the car as we were driving somewhere last week, cracking each other up, and Mimi said spontaneously to Frank, "I love you, buddy." I am so profoundly grateful for the delight that they clearly take in each other when they are not beating the living shit out of each other.

What a difference it makes, too, as Frank's needs become more pressing due to his temper and expression of his dissatisfaction, that Mimi is washing her own hands, dressing herself, listening better, and: USING THE POTTY. Mimi still needs a lot of attention, but it is nice to come inside and tell Mimi to wash her hands and have it actually happen without having to plead and yell and pull and push.

I love talking to her and listening to her sing. Her favorite thing to say when I piss her off or get short or impatient with her is, "I'M NOT YOUR FRIEND MOMMY! DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT." She tells Cory the same thing.

Cory relays though that Mimi told him yesterday that he is her friend, and even though she says that he's not her friend, he will always be her friend.

Well, I need to get back to filing away paperwork and stuff. Time is really running out on getting this all to come together. And of course, both babysitters I tried to put together for today over the last 2.5 weeks backed out today. What the fuck is it about my luck with babysitterS? Just not meant to be?