and here we go again

(Background for those who haven't read the story so far: my husband was laid off in December and has been applying for jobs near and far ever since.  We were trying to stay where we are as the kids are thriving and the schools have been good, but he has been applying to international jobs as well)

No, we haven't gone, yet.  And nothing's certain until we're driving to the airport, tickets in hand, but...  Last night we made a decision about where we're going to go.  It finally came down to two organizations, in two different countries, two different regions of the world.  Neither choice was perfect. Neither is in a place we've ever lived before.  It was like choosing between two imaginary worlds for me.  My husband could have more idea of the job he was going to do, thanks to the hiring process, but I could only guess how my life would be in each place.  

I know that I have substantial work to do in order to have a more positive attitude towards this move.  While we were in the process of choosing,  I wanted to think I could instantly orient happily towards whichever place we chose, but that is not proving to be the case.  Still, I don’t want to feel sorry for myself for having to go where we will have a place to live and all the kids’ school fees and our medical bills will be paid, and we will probably save enough to start to wipe out the debts we have gathered during the last few leaner years.  We've done this before and it seems like it shouldn't be so hard to get our heads around it, but somehow it is this time.  Have we lived in the US for too long of a stretch now?  The last time we made an international move, our oldest was in first grade- now he's going into middle school.  

It's funny to me that I started this blog mostly about my experiences as a trailing spouse, back in the fall.  At the time, I thought I was staying in one home, one city, one country for awhile and even that this was possibly the place where I would stop trailing and find a broader purpose for myself. I've written about making home in different places, my discomfort with certain situations from my experiences abroad.  Now, about to trail off to a new country, I'm almost embarrassed at what I wrote, how it all seemed so clear and relatively simple in hindsight.  I'll keep this blog updated with how the move plays out and we'll see how my point of view may be different in the moment than it was looking back at years-old experiences.  

I will share where we're going and more about the process of choosing, once I am sure our plans will not change.  

imaginary choices and my slippery slope

update, five weeks post-layoff:

So now the shock and anxiety about our situation have eased and my husband’s job application efforts have produced interviews for positions around the world.  Part of effectively interviewing is being convinced, and convincing others, that this will be the perfect job/person match anyone has ever imagined.   This requires us to live in multiple worlds of enthusiasm- oh sure, we’d love to have him commuting several hours every day if it meant that international work travel would be nonexistent and we could stay in this neighborhood we’ve grown to love, or yes, we’d be overjoyed to pick up and move our entire family to the Middle East /Northern Europe/a Pacific island/Washington DC and lots of work travel would be great too! 

We have to be able to imagine the possibilities at the same time that we can’t get too excited about them because they may not even happen at all.  Of course I have already broken my rule of not looking at expat reviews of a potential home city before he has a second interview.  For the first time, I'm not sure I'm ready to leave where we live.  I’d like to be able to say I can think critically and realistically about these prospective jobs and simultaneously practice graceful un-attachment.  Nope, I catch myself imagining that he'll be offered jobs in three different places and wondering how we'll pick, or whether we would choose a not quite ideal job with more pay over a perfect one that requires me to work too, to make up the difference.

Yes, I know this is his job we’re talking about, not mine.  But his excitement or concern is contagious and as his job is our anchor, it affects the rest of us entirely.   The part about me having to work is exciting and terrifying at the same time.   I never intended to be supported by someone else’s income, or not have a job relevant to my education for at least the first 12 years after grad school.  We fell into it almost accidentally- he had more experience so he has always been the one to land the job that would support us all.  With each job, his experience and skill set grow and with each year since grad school, the gap in my resume grows, too.

This would seem like a great opportunity for me to look for paying work for myself as well, but at this moment I have no idea where we'll be in six to seven months. I don't want to risk finding a job that I would have to walk away from soon after I've begun.  I feel like Scuffy the toy tugboat: "I was made for bigger things!" he keeps tooting, until the river gets too big and rough for him and he wishes he was back in his nice safe bathtub.  I've been telling myself for years that any month now I'll slide sideways into a brilliant outside-the-household job of my own, but I'm more than a little terrified at the prospect in case I just don't have it in me. Has it been too long?  I've about decided to let go of the old dreams that propelled me off to grad school, and put together new ones that fit together better with my life experience and family constraints.  Or will I have the luxury of a choice at all? The longer this unemployment thing lasts, the more likely I will have to find any job that will help us keep financially afloat.

to be continued...