So it hasn’t been the best week or so. I keep applying for things that would be great for both Selam and me (i.e. things I want for me and things I want for Selam–though, really how can you separate the two?). But so far, it’s been a season of collecting emails and letters that say “not you.” It could be much worse, of course. We are healthy and safe. We lack for nothing important. I have a great family. I know all of that. I just keep hoping for the letter that begins with “congratulations” and ends with “we really want you/your kid.”
I am discouraged.
And while I’m trying not to let on, Selam is responding to my funk in the way that all kids respond to changes in their parents: acting out. She really so rarely acts out that I have to think about how to respond. This morning we got an email that was yet another, “not you” email. I swear I didn’t say a word. She threw a beanie baby at the lamp and broke it.
There are worse things. There are much worse things.
We have lamps to break and lamps to spare.
And tomorrow is another day.