Waffle iron. We meet again.

Between snowstorms, frigid temps, and strep throat Anna's had all of three full days of school since mid-December. Not that I mind. This is a good age for her - she is fairly independent and is talented at making up fun games to play with Isaac. At the same time she is not opposed to doing a little baking or playing some charades with her Mom, as long as it doesn't interfere with Minecraft. It will be sad times when things get back to normal.
This ever-changing schedule highlighted the perfect timing our minivan purchase. Since I am looking after one of Isaac's preschool classmates a few mornings a week, we consistently needed room for three car seats as soon as the winter semester began. I thank God for taking care of this relatively small need, since it reminds me that He has our larger needs in mind, too. I need that reminder right now.

A year and a half ago, I packed a box of kitchen things and labelled it "storage." There was room enough to fit my waffle iron, so I popped that in the box. We could live without a waffle iron for one or two years, I figured. Over time, in a weird way, the waffle iron became imbued with symbolic meaning. My plan was to leave my storage boxes alone until we moved somewhere more permanently. The waffle iron would be unpacked in a new home filled with possibilities, and what better way to celebrate than with pools of syrup trapped in square, edible boxes?

But today, sitting here in my p.j.s (schools closed!), I officially pronounce us here. As in, we are not going anywhere. As in, we are staying in Maryland. As in, the whole job search thing didn't work out.

I feel very sad about this. I feel sad for Jon, for whom an academic position would have been an excellent fit for his gifts and talents. I feel sad for me, since Maryland still fails to make my Top 10 Places to Live. I feel sad for the kids, since our home(s) will lack a sense of permanence for awhile. I feel sad for us as a family, since building a community is very hard and our usual venues for such things (e.g., church ) are not panning out. I feel sad for Jon and I as a couple, since the greater purpose we had envisioned must be replaced and we're unsure with what to replace it with.

No doubt there is a silver lining here somewhere, but I'm tired of looking for it. I need some time and space to practice looking down instead of ahead. It's a hard habit to break, but hopefully freeing as well.

So I will unpack the waffle iron here, in this temporary place. And I will make lots of waffles. But this year I will add chocolate chips to remind myself to focus on the little things. Perhaps extra chocolate is the silver lining.