Monday, B waited all day for a call to come in to work. Not so unusual when it didn't happen, perhaps the well was just taking longer than expected to get up and running. He went to bed Monday night with his phone by the bed and his coffee all ready to go for when the inevitable call came in. Woke up the next morning, never having gotten the call. He finally called into dispatch, they told him to call his local supervisor. Weird. So he did. And learned that the job had been given to another company, and there may not be local work again indefinitely. In fact, some of his coworkers had already taken over the road assignments, hauling from Wyoming to Louisiana. He could do the same if he wanted a paycheck. He said he might be open to the idea, in the lack of other options. No calls have come in yet.
Needless to say, we are not in an ideal time in our lives right now for him be gone for days, let alone weeks at a time. I keep telling myself that I have it so easy, having someone who supports me financially so I can devote every moment of my day to an eight week old and a two year old with cancer (who, by some miracle, are napping at the same time today. It does sometimes happen!) And he is at least eventually home, even on those jobs where he is sitting on a wellsite for 60 hours at a time. It's not like he's on an overseas year-long deployment. And he does exist in my life. I'm not doing this all as a completely unsupported single mom with a full time job. But. Still. Less than ideal, having him hundreds or even thousands of miles away missing out on Daniel's second first steps and Alex's first smiles, not to mention how wonderful it is, when I am home all day providing care for two high-needs babies, to have him come home and give me a half hour to sit and stare at the wall or go for a walk. We need him here at least a few nights a week. Preferably every night.
So it seems that we are suddenly officially unemployed. Because there are limits to what we are willing to do right now, and B leaving us to go over the road for weeks is one of them. We moved to the Front Range thinking that jobs would be easier to come by than they are in Summit County or in a small plains town, and they are, but it is going to take some time to find something that will provide the income we need for a family of four, plus the ability to take a day off here or there if something emergent comes up that I can't deal with on my own. Yes, I have family I can call, my oarents are always willing to drop everything and run up here, not to mention aunts Marci and Mary, but B and I are the front line in Daniel's fight. It could be worse, losing one's job is really not the end of the world and other jobs can be found, but you would think we could manage to go a whole month without having to deal with the latest game changer. Not complaining, but we have started remembering when other things took place based on which month's crisis we were dealing with. February, no paycheck. March, work picked a bit, but Daniel broke his leg. April, Alex's birth and Daniel's diagnosis. May, steroids. June, job loss. This show is only lacking popcorn and a Morgan Freeman voice-over.
But in other, better news, Daniel is finally showing willingness to try to put weight on his feet again. He really can't support more than about 75% of his body's weight on his legs for more than a few seconds, but he can stand for 30 seconds or more if he is grabbing onto the edge of a table and pulling up with his arms. And he can walk, sort of, with us supporting him and helping take a little weight off of his legs. I know this isn't quite so meaningful to anyone except his family who saw him, just three weeks ago, be unable to even sit up on his own, let alone crawl, and it is especially a big deal to his parents, who have been carrying his 27-34 lbs everywhere he has gone for over three months now. 
Are those M&Ms, motivating him to stand for long enough to take his hand off the table to grab them? Yes. Yes they are.
At the moment, we are having a bit of a honeymoon with our little boys. The little one has started grinning big, un-self-conscious, uncoordinated toothless grins at us, and occasionally summoning up delighted coos and squeals. His favorite thing is (of course) being held, or at least being in his carrier or wrap snuggled against my chest, staring up at my face big-eyed and open-mouthed. His second favorite thing is nudity. The big one is laughing and talking, if in his own language, engaged and interested in his toys, in the "baws" (balls? Bugs? Roly-polies, pillbugs, armadillidiidae, whatever you call them) crawling around on the back patio, and spends a very good part of his day climbing on and off the little ride-on firetruck that was part of Lisa and Christina's consignment sale haul last week. He accidentaly ran over a baw today, and it was truly sad when the baw stopped working like it should and nothing could fix it and make it uncurl. We didn't exactly want to broach the whole subject of death just yet, but we did make a big deal out of being more careful next time so we didn't "break" any more baws.
Speaking of baws, they can drink through their anus. And they eat their own poop to restore their copper stores. I learned that today, with all the focus on roly-polies. And now you did too. You're welcome.
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