We’re waiting for our son to arrive—our first born. Someone at church told us today that having any kid is great, but the first one is especially special. “The inaugural birth,” we summarized. 9 days till his due date. We’re excited to meet him. Counting down to a birth is so much different, we finding, then counting down the days till our wedding. It’s…a ton less exact.

This week, I filed for Unemployment.  I packed up my office on Tuesday—the layoff has been coming for about a month, so it’s not a surprise. Filing feels somehow historical,  part-of-the-system, weirdly…patriotic? For all of the abuse of the system, the politics, the funkiness, money-help is helpful, and I’m grateful, and man, this does feel funny.

My wife finishes out work for maternity leave this Friday. So we both feel it—the shedding off of our known schedules: me into job-search, her into maternity leave, and we into… parenting.

I want to somehow pause for a second, get my bearings. There is a wonder in me at the amount of new things happening at the same time. I want to be aware as the changes happen. I’m eager to see what we’ll be. I don’t want to miss it as it’s happening.



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