It's all about the three-year-old
That's Zoe. She is the only three-year-old on the planet that can take up an entire king-size bed with only a 10-inch portable DVD player as an accessory. (By the way - that
Tempur-Pedic commercial with the glass of wine? It's real.)
Well, Zoe is my only grandchild and her status as such is not likely to change any time soon, if at all. Her Mom and Dad are being divorced, and her Mom (our daughter) is exactly half a professional.
I am not as happy in environmental sciences as I thought I was going to be. I miss the medical and research labs. But realistically - stem cells are the next step if I stay in Neuro, and Missouri is still working that out. I worked in a fertility clinic in Wichita in 1991. 'Nuff said. I don't fight my way to work, nor do I have mutilated dolls sent to the little girls at my address, and I never will again. (I didn't even work for Dr. Tiller. I worked for a fertility doctor who made referrals when it was the parents
choice for whatever always-valid reason, but that is not what this post is about.)
Zoe just turned three. Her mother is busting her ass for a middle class future for the two of them. She is going to be a preschooler one time. I did a decent job with her mom and her aunt and uncle, and this time I have a clue and money. We are adding another unit in this building to our balance sheet, and we are full time grandparents. I guess having a grandma who is a Z-list blogger has a little bit of juice -
this post was dedicated to her today at a big blog, and she has an autographed photo of Inkblot. How cool is
that???)
I feel decadent for being essentially retired so young (I'm mid 40's, he is early 50's) - and I don't get my retirement bennies until 60, even though I have in my time - we can afford to be there for her full time through age seven on his retirement and a grand a month. That's three shifts if I have to pull them, so I am doing the pro-family Democrat thing. I'm stepping up for my child and grandchild and parting with a little cash and earning less rather than hoarding the same at a prime-earning time.
Family values
that.
So I am going to be throwing an Amazon button and a tip-jar in the sidebar some time next week. I'll pull the occasional shift to make a few bucks so we don't have to get into the old-age retirement fund, but my *job* the next couple of years is pretty much going to be blogging at both sites (he isn't getting sent elsewhere any longer, so he is really digging on the second chance at hands-on parenting - we have one really spoiled kid here...) and I'll work when I have to; and help raise a kid I actually have the time to
enjoy.
How fucking awesome is that?
I realize full measure just how lucky I am to have this luxury. But ya know, I did stuff to make that happen, too...
I am taking the path less traveled here - now - let's just see where it goes...
The trip to Pier 1 and Home Depot got shunted aside - our son had some time this afternoon and came over to hang out and play with his niece. I don't see him very often, and neither one of those stores are going anywhere, so that errand will keep for later.
Zoe rolled, and her Pop-Pop called out "James All-Red...Gloria's brother," at which point our son cracked up. Then the topic somehow became the editorial page at the New York Times, faster than you could connect Kevin Bacon to Kenny Loggins. Son asks Dad if he read the Applebee's faux pas in David Brooks' column earlier this week. Before he was finished speaking, the weekly dose of all things Brooksian started on NPR, and Zoe pipes up and says "Shut up David Brooks, you nimrod!" (I wonder where she could have heard such a thing?)
