Beginnings and endings

This Wednesday marked my last day at ABC English. It was harder than expected, as mothers came (and have been coming) forward with presents. Some of these marked my first ever gifts of clothes for the symbiote. ("It's the size of a large steak now!" says my OB/GYN, and I smile, but deep inside I think, "Mmmh, steak. Yum." I don't want to think about it that way!!! More on symbiote later, because I am SURE everyone is panting or drooling to hear. ... ha.)

I spent Wednesday evening and Tuesday, too, in a state akin to shock. Separation alarms are ringing in the corridors of my mind, and unplugging myself from this chapter, midway through the page turn, (how many more metaphors can I mix in? here is one more!)- had me feeling like I was free-falling, and my wings hadn't quite figured out how to flap right yet.

I resolved to do nothing all day on Thursday. And I achieved that. Almost. Guilty at still lounging in pajamas at four pm, I took a shower, then put laundry away. One should not swear to not be productive, for I paid for this burst of guilt-inspired productivity by breaking the lid on our best teapot, after tripping over a cord with both arms full of folded clothes, covering the floor in half-consumed tea. I suggested to Tim that perhaps we should make a point of pouring tea over the rest of the carpeting in here before inspection day, just to make sure it is the same uniform shade of taupe.

But with a little time to unwind comes a certain relief. This is the best thing. Leaving my kids behind is difficult-- I never told them I was going-- and I am going to write up a nice letter in Japanese, I think, to give to all the parents and children, something that conveys my mind to them. But I heard back from IU this week, and they suggest I take the graduate colloquy course this fall. It puts me into my cohort, and will serve as a necessary basis for much to follow. It also only meets one day a week--rock on. I then, of course, made the mistake tonight of looking at all the other course offerings this fall. I think I have spent the last hour yelling foul that I can't go full-on this fall semester. Dare I try six credits? I -want- to, but I somehow doubt that such a thing is WISE. I haven't tried explaining to anyone at IU yet that I also want to try and hook up with the music department, and take a course in classical Japanese, along with some more modern Japanese. And brush up my Spanish. Seeking opportunities to do some of these things will have to wait until we are back, but I know it will become a lot more complicated after the arrival in person of the symbiote. Now is the time to act!! Quickly, before things become more complicated!!! Post-move is going to be a lot of reading on bilingual education, I think, and finding resources in the Bloomington area.

So, I waited to share symbiote news. Um. Not much. Creature started moving around in a way that I could feel a few weeks ago. It doesn't keep me up at night, yet. There is a certain alien fascination to it, though, to lie quietly as I wake up and feel it do the "I want breakfast" dance, or to lie down flat, and suddenly realize my stomach has taken on pointy contours. What the heck is it DOING!? We make an idealized personality for ourselves in our brains, and nothing can prepare us for actual arrival. I read Remember Sascha? by Ray Bradbury today; a certain insight there. I was hoping this past Monday's appointment would reveal the mystery sex of the creature... but no luck. The doctor said, "Uhh... not sure. Next time, maybe."

We have to start the irritating process of naming. Something I have looked forward to since I was a child. I name all things very seriously, but there is a part of me that feels like I shouldn't commit to something as serious as a name until I get to know the creature I am naming. Not that I expect to have a mystical mother's intuition upon seeing the creature's face, but... naming someone when I have very little idea of their personality or nature, seems... wrong, somehow. But maybe since it will share OUR natures, whatever we choose to mark our child with for all eternity or until their 18th birthday drives them to the local court house in giddy relief from long humiliation... will reflect us and it, too.