There's so much on my mind right now, and it's so hard to think it through. I'm torn, and to mix metaphors, feel like I'm being pulled in at least three different directions.
I am teaching one class this semester at the school where P. has a tenure track job, and it's a bit harder on me emotionally than I thought it would be. I gave up a tenure track job of my own, and an offer of an even better one, so that P. could take one of his offers, and so that I'd have time to spend at home taking care of the baby. I am still thankful for the time with D., but I was very naive in thinking I'd be able to get much of anything done while taking care of an infant besides taking care of the infant. I spend most of my time feeding, changing, bouncing, bathing, soothing, or playing with the baby. Very rarely will he nap anywhere except on top of me (he's on me now), and that makes it difficult to accomplish anything. The cleaning duties I do happen mostly after P. gets home and hold the baby for a while.
Prepping for class is a bit more difficult with the baby around, but so far it's been manageable (I've taught the class before at my old job). But working on that article that I really should be sending out to to a journal? That's been pretty much impossible. I need some space to spread out, and some time in which I'm not likely to get interrupted by D. wailing.
When we first arrived in New City, P. and I went to a picnic his new department was holding for its faculty-- both full timers and part-time adjunct people like me. I was encouraged; how cool to be at a place where adjuncts are really considered to be part of the faculty? But the English department doesn't operate in the same way, it seems. I have yet to meet one other person (even an adjunct) in the department. I don't know what my department chair looks like, and I don't even know where the copy machine is, and my chair failed to answer an email I sent weeks ago asking about office/desk space. I come in three days a week, baby in tow, to teach my class (P. takes D. for the hour), and that's the only time I'm even on campus. This is somewhat my own fault. If I want to meet people, I'll need to make more of an effort to get myself to campus sometime when P. can watch Bino. It means stepping out of my comfort zone, for sure.
This lack of connection is pretty unnerving. I don't quite feel real, and I certainly don't get the sense that my work is valued by anyone. P. comes home talking about the goings-on in his department, about committee work and campus meetings, and I listen hungrily. I miss those things.
And so, the question at hand is what to do about all of this? There are three jobs in my area opening up within an hour of New City. I could apply for them, though the market in English is so tight I don't feel confident about my chances of getting any of them. I could also start looking for non-academic work in nearby Big City, a possibility that sometimes feels exciting, other times feels disappointing, and all times, feels terrifying.
But there's another new wrinkle.
Out of the blue, P. got a call from Very Elite but Rurally Located College. He was a finalist for a job there last year, but didn't get an offer. Seems they have a new opening for next year. No offer has been made yet, but it seems a very real possibility. It's a super opportunity for P., and I think he'd be really happy working there. The salary there will go a lot further than it does here, where the cost of living is extremely high. There are some good educational perks for D., too. It makes some sense to go there. The problem is that there aren't any jobs in my area anywhere remotely close to this place, and if I look for a non-academic job, I'm not sure what there is I can do in this new place. Surely I could find something, right? But it will be harder, and I'm worried it'll be harder to find something I might actually enjoy doing. I have tremendous respect (now more than ever) for stay-at-home mothers, but I feel I'm going to need something else in my life, too.
This puts us right back to where we were last year, trying to solve the impossible 2-body problem once again. I am spent. I don't want P. to lose a great opportunity because of me, and I want fo rus to be able to provide D. with the best life possible. What am I going to do, though? I'm lost. I want to be able to spend as much time with D. as I can, and to prolong taking him to daycare as long as possible; but I want to be able to do other things, too. I want for P. to have a happy and fulfilling professional life, but I'd kinda like one for myself, too. I'd like for us to be better off financially, but I wish we could stay in this part of the country, too. The bottom line is that I can't have it all, and that these tough decisions are just part of what it means to be a grown up.
Since starting this post, I've changed 2 diapers, given one feeding, and done several bouncing/soothing sessions with D. He's crying for more. Thanks for listening.
I think I've just about talked P. into accepting the job at Elite but Rural College, which means we may be on the move again. It's taken quite a bit of effort on my part to convince him to take the job, but after a week of thinking things through, I think it's the right thing to do. It means putting my academic career on hold, but I feel great about not needing to send D. off to daycare before he can even tell us what's happening there. Elite Rural College has offered me part-time work, so I can still keep one foot in the academy door. And if I'm somehow able to publish more in the next few years, maybe P. and I will be competetive enough in two years time to go on the market again and find two tenure track jobs that are closer together.
