I got a nice check yesterday from one of my first big clients since I struck out on my own--I got assignments from them actually before I even ended my last job so it was stressful but really gratifying to get that work done. I'm proud of the pieces but I also learned a lot from the process of writing them and the information I gleaned from the reporting (also the editors are remarkably gentle on me so that is awesome.)

Anyway it feels very satisfying, because sometimes I worry that this is just a self-indulgent experiment. Maybe it's not.

It's been quite a year. This date last year we were about to move from our old house into our current house. Moving sucks but we also had a 2 year old running around (no offense Paul, but you were not a very good packer) and I was pregnant which very few people knew about (which was torture for me--I am not naturally discreet.) The day before the move we got a an uncertain read on James' genetic test and that same day had a test done where they put a needle in my belly so we could find out more information, which we wouldn't hear about until the next day. That night Comcast cut off our cable--a day early--which would have sucked anyway but I had really comforted myself with the idea of watching Sex and the City on the couch all night. All my fear and exhaustion was directed at Comcast, so, congratulations Comcast! You were the butt of all my fear and stress and rightfully so because I still maintain you suck so bad.

That next morning I helped move which Steve didn't want me to do but I needed to stay busy. Every time someone who was NOT the doctor called I jumped. We finally left our old house and I stopped at Al's Deli for lunch. I brought the sandwiches over to our new house and as I walked into the kitchen the phone rang and we heard everything with the baby was fine.

I know people have it much harder than that, but for me that was just an exhausting series of circumstances.  After that I got really sick and prepared to host my first Thanksgiving, terrified that my mother was going to give me shit for not doing it the way she did, but she did not and it was great and I finally got to tell everyone I cared about that I was pregnant again.

After that it seemed like I was sick every other week, as I commuted an hour to work and back all Chicago winter long. I turned 36 and I cried alone with Paul at the dinner table because I found it pitiful that I never came up with a way to celebrate my birthday (pregnancy hormones). Paul told me not to cry. 

Then we potty trained Paul. Then I had a book come out. Then I had a baby! And it was so much better than the last time (no offense Paul but you were not very good at being born.)

And finally we were all together for summer in our new house. I got to experience having a new baby again but without all the fear of the first time. I felt so happy that all the big scary waits of the year were over. Over the summer we swam a lot and drank in our back yard a lot and got to know our neighbors. We splurged on some nice patio furniture and it was totally worth it.

Then I quit my job! It was a hard decision but we are very lucky that it was one I got to make. I realize now that prior to that point I hadn't taken a risk like that yet -- I've been afraid to say yes to things or fly without a net as it were so I am delighted with knowing that James and my own business were born at roughly the same time (much the way Steve's business was born the same time as Paul was.)

Anyway, it's been quite a year. I'm okay with the next one being a little quieter but happy and exciting are good too.

I look forward to depositing this check.