If it's Christmas, I must be in...
I'm dreaming of a White Christmas in Michigan, although it looks like a gray, drizzly one will have to do. It matters not, though, since I'm with the family for double-digit days consecutively for the first time since September. I'm content in a way I haven't been in a long time, which is the best Christmas present for which I could possibly have hoped. (Although a Nintendo Wii wouldn't suck. Santa baby, just slip a nunchuk controller under the tree for me.)
I love being so close to East Lansing and therefore so relatively distant from my in-laws. (I've been meaning to do a post about the many egregious violations of grandparenting etiquette committed by my m-i-l over the past four months. They're far less infuriating now that they're comfortably in retrospect.) E.L. - aka "Home of the Bodybag" - holds a special place in my heart in the way only your college town can. I met Christine and a whole slew of life-long friends here! So many memories! Some of them not even involving alcohol! Over the years it manages to change, and yet somehow remain reliably constant. A few days ago, we went to El Azteco for dinner where I ordered - as I have on every visit (save one) for the past 18 years - the greatest Enchiladas Suizas ever created by human hands. It's not often that one can form a bridge between nostalgic past and hopeful future, but I think we can pull it off.
My lab in Kankakee is scheduled to finally be finished in February, at which time I'll permanently relocate to Illinois. Christine and the kids won't be coming with me. (How's that for burying the lede??) After much soul-searching, we decided it would be way too difficult to move the kids again so soon. Doing so would mean that they'd be attending their fourth school in as many years, and that's simply not acceptable. Kankakee is a four-hour drive from here, which is an annoyingly long, but do-able, distance for weekend visits. There's also a pretty compelling case to be made for spending Fridays at my company's plant in Elkhart, Indiana, which would cut the drive in half.
It sucks, but it's also the right thing to do. I owe Catherine and Brady stability, and Christine the opportunity to establish herself as a teacher in a wonderful school. Everyone dropped everything to follow me to California, so this is the least I can do in return.
I love being so close to East Lansing and therefore so relatively distant from my in-laws. (I've been meaning to do a post about the many egregious violations of grandparenting etiquette committed by my m-i-l over the past four months. They're far less infuriating now that they're comfortably in retrospect.) E.L. - aka "Home of the Bodybag" - holds a special place in my heart in the way only your college town can. I met Christine and a whole slew of life-long friends here! So many memories! Some of them not even involving alcohol! Over the years it manages to change, and yet somehow remain reliably constant. A few days ago, we went to El Azteco for dinner where I ordered - as I have on every visit (save one) for the past 18 years - the greatest Enchiladas Suizas ever created by human hands. It's not often that one can form a bridge between nostalgic past and hopeful future, but I think we can pull it off.
My lab in Kankakee is scheduled to finally be finished in February, at which time I'll permanently relocate to Illinois. Christine and the kids won't be coming with me. (How's that for burying the lede??) After much soul-searching, we decided it would be way too difficult to move the kids again so soon. Doing so would mean that they'd be attending their fourth school in as many years, and that's simply not acceptable. Kankakee is a four-hour drive from here, which is an annoyingly long, but do-able, distance for weekend visits. There's also a pretty compelling case to be made for spending Fridays at my company's plant in Elkhart, Indiana, which would cut the drive in half.
It sucks, but it's also the right thing to do. I owe Catherine and Brady stability, and Christine the opportunity to establish herself as a teacher in a wonderful school. Everyone dropped everything to follow me to California, so this is the least I can do in return.