Dare I Hope?

The first time I walked into a Jewish synagogue and opened a prayer book, I saw this: "Pray as if everything depended on God; act as if everything depended on you." This is a running theme throughout Judaism, and something I love about this belief system. There is no "let go and let God" mentality. Yes, trust God and continue communicating with God, but don't use that as a reason for inertia.

Anyway, I thought about this last night after leaving a voicemail for the realtor about the Merrick house. We had been playing a bit of voicemail tag in my efforts to make an offer. Nicole's mom asked yesterday if we were going to make an offer, and I told her that I was trying to reach the person but that I was hesitant. She asked if I didn't think it was right for us, and said that if we're set on Floral Park, we shouldn't settle. I said that we're not at all set on Floral Park, especially since we haven't seen anything else decent there in our price range. I said that we had LOVED the Merrick house and were 100% confident in making an offer before we ever saw Tyson, so it wasn't about Merrick not being right for us; it was about not being able to let Tyson go. It's THE ONE. Then I told her that I had this slight fear that we would start to go through with Merrick, be caught up in the process, and find out the offer on Tyson had fallen through and we would have had a chance after all. Nicole's mom asked if I would feel better if she called John the realtor back to confirm that the offer was accepted, that it's going through, and that it's a dead deal before I call back the Merrick realtor. I said YES, please, that would make me feel much better. At least I would know we'd done everything we could and it was out of our hands.

So she called John back and upped our offer a little bit, to just above the other offer. (We shouldn't even know what the other offer is, technically, but apparently John knows the owner and has more information than he should.) We also reapplied online for a new preapproval as soon as we got home from work, and we were granted it. So he said we may actually have a good shot at this. But the catch is - I think he told them we could put 20% down, which we definitely can't. We can do 10%, and even at that would have to borrow some from Nicole's parents for closing costs. (They don't just have it - they would take out a small loan and we would pay it back with interest.) Would this be a dealbreaker if John corrects that misinformation for the owner? I don't know. It doesn't make sense to me that it would, because as long as we're approved for the mortgage, the owner still gets her money. If anyone should be worried about it, it should be the bank, and they already take care of that by slapping you with PMI.

I have no clue whether this will work out for us. There could be an accepted offer already. The homeowner could tell the other person that there's a higher offer and ask us both to give our best (which we've already done!). I'm nowhere close to confident about this. But I'm relieved to be back in the game. If it doesn't happen, I'll know it wasn't because I didn't take action or because I gave up as soon as I heard there was already an offer. After that, it's out of my hands.

Heartbreak

I dared to indulge in a daydreamy, glowing post about the amazing house on Tyson, inviting others to share in my anxious excitement, and a few hours later got a call from my father-in-law that our agent found out there is already an offer on the table. And a hefty one, too. One we can't outbid. We are devastated. We had anticipated the unlikely but possible kinks that could arise, but this is one we certainly didn't expect - he should have done his homework before taking us. We never even should have seen the house. And now Merrick is less appealing because we let ourselves love Tyson.

Merrick is beautiful, though it did have a couple of drawbacks. We came home from seeing it set on making an offer. But we figured we should just see this last one we'd been told about before doing so. And we fell hopelessly in love. And now it's gone. Could we wait it out in case it falls through? Sure, but that's a gamble because we could end up with nothing. We DID love Merrick before seeing Tyson. Myrtle Beach looks like a great vacation and you're completely happy with it until you think you might be able to go to St. Thomas for the same price. Then when no flights are available to the Caribbean, Myrtle Beach is a bit of a bummer. How do you regain that initial excitement? Does this mean we SHOULDN'T be bidding on Merrick? Was this to keep us away from it? Do I even believe in signs like that?

We loved the house in Merrick. We loved how unique it was, how much character it had, the beautiful kitchen, the sweet backyard. But it has nothing on Tyson. We dreamed ourselves right into that house, no matter how much we tried not to. I could picture where the Christmas tree would go, how we'd be able to pull up the driveway in the back and go right into the kitchen with our groceries, where we'd put a vegetable garden.

Will we be happy in Merrick? Sure. But I worry that I'll always wonder how nice it would have been to have that super short commute, to be able to walk up to a sweet village, to make that beautiful home ours. If we had just never seen it, we would be ecstatic over Merrick. That kills me.

I hope I can let it go. Time heals. And who knows, maybe Merrick is gone too and we will just start over.

Holding my Breath

I've fallen in love. Hard.

We've had so many disappointments and near misses when it comes to househunting that I almost feel like it's bad luck to let myself get hopeful - until I remind myself that I'm not superstitious and I need to allow myself to get cautiously excited. And that means being able to talk about it without fear of "jinxing" it, and opening myself up to having to talk about the hurt too if it doesn't work.

We've been looking for a house for about a year, as I've posted about before. Houses in Long Island are so expensive, and the taxes are even worse. It's impossible to get anything livable under $300k, which is insane to me because that could practically get you a mansion where I'm from. This has made the search all the harder; if we could afford $450k, we'd be just fine. But we have to hover between $300-$350, and it doesn't get you much. The few times we find something that seems to be getting us quite a bit for that price, it's snatched up before we can even get a glimmer in our eyes. Mortgage rates are low and it's a competitive market, and our price range isn't. People who have been casually thinking about looking for a house at some point in the future are grabbing at NOW because of the market. We are just starting out and just happen to be caught up in the rush.

We looked at a couple very promising prospects yesterday, which had me feeling more hopeful than I have in a long time. We were actually ready to make an offer on something we saw out in Merrick, when Nicole suggested we look at that one last option that this Floral Park realtor (John) had to show us. He lives in the area, has become very friendly with Nicole's dad over the past six or nine months that we've been working with him, and he said we could just call him up because the houses are empty and he has the keys. Up until now, he's mostly shown us two-family homes, which I'm really resistant to but trying to stay open to since Nicole and her parents are both okay with it (they would go in on it with us and rent out their part), unaffordable single-families, or dilapidated affordable single-families. Floral Park is just expensive. So while it's a nice area, I certainly don't NEED to be there. I've actually started to really like Merrick, and we've continued to look farther out on the island while John shares new listings as they come up.

John took us over to this house but I could tell he really thought we weren't too interested. Nicole's dad had told him we had gone back out to Merrick to look at the other house again (Nicole wasn't with me the first time), and John was pretty sure (as were we!) that we'd make an offer there. So he was informative but relaxed, not at all pushy, and we just absorbed everything.

The house sits about a block off of Jericho Turnpike, the main road. (The Merrick house was only one house away from a main road, so this was actually further off than what we'd already been willing to settle for.) It has a house on each side of it, then some sort of business building (not commercial, but I'm not sure exactly what it is) closer to Jericho. There is a small, two-story apartment complex across the street. The house to the right is on the corner, and there is a stone Verizon building across that street (an office building, not a store). Then there are houses on every other street. So THAT is part of why this house is actually in our price range. If you're looking in that neighborhood, the streets that are all residential are going to be more valued than the street that has a few houses and a smattering of other things. They aren't big commercial buildings, and the street is connected to the rest of the neighborhood where our kids can play, go to cookouts, and trick-or-treat, so it's not a big deal to me. I'm okay with that being our compromise!

It's a desirable, populated area close to the city, so the houses are narrow and long to maximize space, with the bottom floor being railroad style. The house was built in 1925 and has clearly been very well taken care of. You walk into what is either a large mudroom or a small sunroom. It has a ton of windows. Then you walk into the modest-sized living room, and then you walk through to the dining room, and then the kitchen. The stairs (which are beautiful!) go up from the dining room. All the floors and moldings are original wood and they are so gorgeous! The doors are original with these interesting looking cut glass knobs. We both love the cozy charm of the house - we wouldn't want to replace or change any of that! The woman who owns it now does something with blinds for a living, and she has brand new Anderson windows with nice blinds in them (some wooden ones downstairs!). She also replaced the front door recently. So the things that needed fixing are fixed, and the things that don't, she left alone. It's perfect. The only thing needed is a good sanding of the wood floors.

Upstairs is a long hallway with a railing to the left looking over the staircase, two small bedrooms and a GORGEOUS remodeled bathroom on the right, and then the modest-sized master bedroom at the back. There is only one small closet in each room, but again, something I'm willing to compromise for everything else that is perfect. There is room to put in a wardrobe, so I'm fine!

The kitchen could use some updating. It has old, cheap cabinets and countertops. However, they're clean and workable, so that would be a "someday" dream." The appliances are all brand new. And it has my little dream of a window over the sink! I don't know why I want that so much, but it's just always been a part of my vision of a house. Something that has always made having a house stand out from having an apartment is the idea of washing a dish at the sink and being able to look out at the yard. I don't know why it gets me so much, but I look for it in every house, even though it's obviously not a dealbreaker.

There is a half-bath off the back, a door to the basement, and a door to the backyard. The basement is finished and looks just like the other rooms - wood floor, white walls, good shape. It's a nice rectangular shape (we've seen some crazy basement layouts!) that you could easily make into a playroom, rec room, or even guest room once the upstairs rooms are occupied (omg!). The washer and dryer are down there in a little utility room where the oil tank is.

The house is run on oil, but the stove is gas. So there are gas lines in the house and you could convert to gas heat for about $5,000, which would be a much cheaper bill. This is true for the Merrick house too, but most of the houses we've looked at are either fully on oil with the option to convert for about $10,000 (because there is no gas in the house) or without the option to convert because there are no gas lines in the neighborhood. So this is a HUGE plus.

The backyard is small and a reminder that this is sort of an urban house. But it's THERE. There is grass, there are nooks where I can put my vegetable garden, there is an area for kids to play. There may not be enough room for a full swingset like I'd envisioned, but there is play space.

I'm nervous. We've made a low offer, and we know what we're willing to go up to. The realtor knew our price range and still showed us this, making it clear to us that the owner is ready to go. Apparently they already had a contract and moved out into their new home, and the sale fell through because the buyer's own home sale had fallen through, and buying this was contingent upon selling theirs. So the home is empty and they're paying hefty taxes every month while not even living in it.

I'm also hoping that there isn't a lot of activity on it because I don't know of an open house having happened recently. Usually when we make an offer, it's amidst a flurry of other interested potential buyers and we know our offer is competing with people who can probably pay closer to the asking price. I'm hoping that no one is really looking at this one, and that the owner will be so relieved to have an offer, that they will work with us a little. And I hope no one else suddenly comes forward with a better offer. We know now that we can get approved for a mortgage, so if we can just cinch a sales agreement, we might be good to go. I don't want this to slip through our fingers. It's perfect for us. It's sweet, modest, clean and move-in ready, spacious enough without being big and "too much house," and it's in a GREAT location as far as being walking distance to the railroad and so close to the city. I could take any job in Manhattan and have a normal commute, no more than what I'm doing now from Queens. That hasn't been true for anything else we've looked at, because it's difficult to find within our budget.

All prayers and positive energy are greatly appreciated. I'm so ready to build our nest together. We've been frustrated and disappointed so many times, and I'm just ready! This house is so perfectly us that getting it would make me understand why (and be grateful for!) not getting the others.

Reflections on a Birthday (or, feeling the alarm go off on my biological clock)

There's nothing like a birthday to get you thinking a lot about having kids.

Yesterday was my 29th, and it was wonderful. Nicole booked us a hotel in downtown Manhattan, and we frolicked around in the city like tourists. It culminated in NYC Pride on Sunday, my actual birthday. It always falls on the weekend that I would be celebrating my birthday, and one other year (my first Pride, actually) on my exact birthday. I have skipped Pride a few times just because I don't always want my birthday celebration tied up with it. This year we agreed not to go to the parade itself, but just to Pride Fest, where it would be less crowded.

One of the booths was for a fertility association that specializes in helping start LGBT families. They gave me a bag for women (they also had ones for men) that included pamphlets and information. The director of the organization was running the booth, and I teasingly asked him to verify whether starting a family at 37 was a good idea. Nicole and I had butted heads on this a little bit a few weeks ago. I want to be done having children by 35, which I know we've discussed before but I guess Nicole had forgotten. Feeling like there was a timeframe made her nervous, so even though we have never entertained the thought of waiting that long, she started talking about people she knows who had babies at 37 etc. and were perfectly fine. I started to panic a little, but reminded myself that she has to make things a distant, remote thing in the future in order to cope with the stress of it (right now househunting is making her unable to think about kids) and that this does not mean she actually wants to wait til then, but that she can't deal with the pressure of a deadline. I've learned this about her and have to reign in my tendency to be reactive. So I ended the discussion and knew the only answer was to wait silently and patiently until we are done with this house business, and then she will be in a different place.

Knowing the sensitivity of this, I probably shouldn't have half-joked with the director for him to persuade Nicole. It came off as passive-aggressive and making her feel vulnerable. But the point is, when I said, "So is it a good idea to wait til we're 37 to start trying to conceive?" I didn't expect the exact answer I got. He said that we would probably be looking at using donor eggs at that point, because we would have fewer viable  eggs ourselves and already have to go through a lengthy process to try to get pregnant. He then said that the first decline in fertility is at 27, and the next at 33. He said, "I'm not saying this to sound sexist, I'm saying it because it's biological fact. Societal expectations are different and people wait longer and that's okay, but our bodies are still meant to have their prime childbearing years in their early and mid 20s."

Women get pregnant all the time at 27 and later, so I'm not exactly panicked. But I did feel a little bit of worry, just because I've always thought I'd be fine if I had them before 35. But 35 is the age where it becomes riskier, and yes, more difficult to conceive. It's logical that that doesn't mean you're super fertile until the day you turn 35, and then your fertility drops. Of course it's going to start waning. I just wasn't thinking in my head that, at 29, I'm already less fertile than I was just three years ago.

Does this change anything? Not really. I'm already here, and there's nothing I can do. And there's nothing I could have done at 26 either - I had just started dating Nicole. But my "well, what's another year in the grand scheme of things?" belief that I have to convince myself of from year to year has definitely been challenged. And I think the reason it affected me most is that I feel ready now in every other sense. We're just waiting to have a house, and that is taking forever. I hate that that is the only real obstacle, and that my fertility is just ticking away while we work toward it. But I'm not willing to compromise it, because I value my wife's mental health and she cannot handle the stress of both at the same time, and because we will be able to save infinitely less toward a down payment once we have a baby on the way.

So here I sit, trying to be patient while my body keeps churning out all my good eggs. *sigh*

As A Driven Leaf

We had our second meeting with the rabbi today. We've been trying to schedule it for months, and there has always been a conflict either on our end our hers, so it was nice to finally sit down again. We just missed the last round of Judaism classes and are waiting for the next to start, and the rabbi didn't want us to have to wait that long to be able to start our process. I'm an eager student, so this suited me just fine, but the logistics of getting together on a weeknight have been tough.

Because it had been a while since our first meeting, we spent some time chatting about what's been going on in our lives (not much, it turns out!) before delving back into conversion talk. Rabbi asked our impressions of services so far, especially while we are yet to receive education about what is going on. I told her that the biggest thing that struck me from early on was the similarity to my Catholic upbringing, as far as the structure of services. There is singing, praying, standing, sitting, a sermon - even turning to one another to say "Shabbat Shalom" or "Good Shabbos" reminds me of the sign of peace in Catholicism. I told her that it was familiar and comforting, and in a way that is meaningful and spiritually significant for me, which is nice since I don't know what everything means and don't always understand exactly what is going on.

I also shared (since Nicole clams up in these meetings) that Nicole, who is a generally anxious and high-strung person, has expressed feeling calmer and more centered after going to temple, and that we both notice a difference in her the weeks that we have missed. Rabbi started talking about how "Shalom" means "peace" and how Shabbat is meant to be a day to rest and refresh your soul, in whatever way is meaningful for you. (Another example of a loose interpretation allowed by Reform Judaism - in more conservative sects, there are specific actions that are allowed or not allowed, but in Reform, it's whatever for YOU is restful and refreshing.) She brought over the prayer book that we use in services and broke down one of the hymns that is a literal translation of some verses from Genesis, and tied that in to what Nicole had brought up. I love, love, love being able to start a conversation based on our experience and have Rabbi use her knowledge to connect it to Judaism. It's such a powerful way for me to learn.

While speaking about the intentions for Shabbat, Rabbi suggested we start thinking about small ways that we might want to honor Shabbat at home, such as by lighting Shabbat candles. I told her that we both love reading and sharing what we're reading, whether with magazines, books, etc., so we had been looking for books that we could read aloud from together. Rabbi got excited and started talking about all kinds of books, and wrote down suggestions for us. She flitted around her office looking at different ones that she had in mind, based on our answers to her questions about what we find engaging and helpful, and then lent us one called "As A Driven Leaf" by Milton Steinberg. The summary on the back says, "The magnificent work of modern fiction that brings the age of the Talmud to life, and explores the times of Elisha ben Abuyah, whose struggle to live in two worlds destroyed his chances to live in either." Ooooooh.

This book is perfect for Reform because it addresses the conflict between religion and science, and how we grapple with that as people who identify as both intellectual and spiritual. It's a novel utilizing a real-life character who first rocked the boat by suggesting to the "sages" (elder rabbis) that perhaps you don't need to reject religion or reject science, but instead can embrace both, using science as a basis for faith and vice versa. The struggle for intellectual but deeply religious Jews who were thirsty for the knowledge being gained by the Greeks is real, and Milton Steinberg humanizes that large-scale struggle by creating this tale around a real person from history who first made waves. It's SO ME that I can't even handle it. It's light reading just in that it's a novel, not heavy nonfiction, but it's so intelligently written that it reads like a college assignment.

Originally we were going to read a chapter or two every Shabbat together, but we were excited to see what it was about and started tonight. Then we realized the chapters are pretty short and we could easily and happily do one a day, which also clears the way for more of Rabbi's recommended reading afterward. This evening we read the prologue and first chapter, and then talked about it. It felt like our own little book club and religious study. (Granted, we had been talking about more of a daily prayer type book when we first mentioned it to Rabbi but must not have communicated that clearly, and now that we are reading from this book daily, we STILL need to think of a way to honor Shabbat that is different from the rest of the week!)

Rabbi said today that she loves teaching children, but that she has a special place in her heart for teaching adults because they have a whole different appreciation for what they're learning. I must agree - I don't think I ever expected the process of conversion to be so exciting and enjoyable!

Happy Mother's Day!

Last night we we went to Nicole's parents' for appetizers and drinks. My father-in-law had brought his mother  down from upstate, so some people were gathering to celebrate with her. Nanny is the only surviving grandparent either of us has. Aunt Sue and Uncle Anthony and their two daughters, Liz and Michelle, came over, and it was so nice spending time with them. I see them at large family events but haven't really spent any time just with them. They were so down-to-earth, and I told Nicole those are cousins I could see us enjoying raising children with, going to each other's events and celebrations. Nicole said they have always been her closest cousins growing up, and that she was so glad that I had this reaction to them. Both of them are in long-term relationships and are expecting to be engaged very soon, so we could actually be on a similar timetable.

Because of this, the conversation turned to children quite frequently. As always, I talked about how ready I am, and Nicole made jokes about how she would be ready in about five years. It's nice to have relatives reinforce for Nicole that you can't always start a family in such a linear fashion, with everything perfectly in place, and that we shouldn't let home-buying be such a hard and fast ultimatum for having babies. NYC has a crazy cost of living, and it's not typical for 28-year-olds to be able to afford their own home here. We may have to settle for buying a co-op (NYC's version of a condo, with slightly different rules) for five or ten years, so that at least we aren't just throwing money away into rent while we save. Or we may have to continue living in an apartment for a while longer and not put off having children until we own a home. The white picket fence isn't so realistic here, and that's the sacrifice we're making to stay where we love and have good jobs and protections and freedoms.

The biggest obstacle to babymaking would be if we move into Nicole's parents' basement apartment to save money. They continue to offer this, and I have continued to dig my heels in. I have a lot of pride around the independence I've achieved since moving to NYC at age 21, and the idea of "moving back home" is a really hard pill for me to swallow. I've been frank about this to Nicole's mom, and she was pretty hurt. She said that when she moved into this house, she hoped to be able to help her family by having that apartment (and she has - her mother lived there until she passed away, and Nicole lived there until she moved in with me), and that it is a little insulting that I would think of it as such a terrible thing to live there. I tried to explain to her that it's not that I don't appreciate the help, or that it's a terrible thing to have them upstairs. It's my own sense of being a successful independent adult in a grueling city, having struggled to survive but having moved up and up in my living spaces. I'm now in a spacious, fully furnished two-bedroom with a little balcony and gorgeous sunny windows. Going from that to a basement apartment with one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and tiny windows near the ceiling is just a hit to my pride. It doesn't mean I won't suck it up to save money and do what's best for us in the end, but I can't lie and pretend it's an ideal solution. I don't mean to be ungrateful, but my reaction is just there.

If we don't have somewhere by the time our lease is up again, February 1, this is what we've decided our next step is. Our landlord isn't respecting the rent-stabilization of our apartment, and raised our rent more than he was supposed to when we renewed this year. We don't want to have another increase next year and even less to put away toward a house. We really need a larger down payment, and we can't save that much while living here. If we moved to her parents', we could save at least $1000 per month more toward a house. That's pretty significant. I'm just having difficulty with the idea of moving our lives into a more cramped arena, with little natural light (a BIG deal for me), and much worse, the idea of moving AGAIN. I haven't lived anywhere more than two years since moving to NYC. I'm constantly packing, and haven't even bothered to hang anything on the walls in the past few years. I'm just tired and ready to be settled. The idea of a temporary move makes me feel exhausted and discouraged.

On top of that, I know this move would delay baby plans. We could try for a baby while in our current apartment, but not while in the small one-bedroom apartment at her parents'. Moving there means for sure waiting until we have a house, which could be another year. Not only would it not be comfortable, but the money it's going to cost us to try to conceive - well, spending that every month would defeat the purpose of our packing away extra money toward a down payment by living there in the first place.

I honestly don't know which I'd prefer. If we do a co-op, we could start trying a year or so sooner, which really makes me lean toward this option. But I also think it's dumb to let a year's delay keep us from getting a house. If just a year of that extra saving can get us somewhere where we can have a swingset and a vegetable garden, instead of a park and a shared courtyard, isn't that worth the wait? If we buy a co-op, we're stuck there for a few years, at least. The housing market will only be improving, selling is difficult and messy, and our kids will be growing without a backyard. Millions of kids grow up happily in NYC without backyards, but I can't let go of that dream.

I'm really not sure what to do. I guess for now we will just keep looking and seeing what's out there, and hope that the answer will be clearer as we near the end of the year.

To work or not to work?

I have so many conflicted feelings about returning to work after having a baby, which certainly isn't a unique struggle. I know that not going back at all isn't an option for me. I feel very strongly that what I'm doing is my calling, and that my two currently nonexistent children aren't more important to the world than the dozens I serve every day. I owe it to these children who don't have stable, loving environments, and I owe it to the world and to my generation's future to help these kids find their way to being productive, healthy adults. No part of me can reconcile stepping back from that to focus on just two kids, at the expense of so many others. This was part of my struggle when for a few years I thought I might not want to have children, and part of my deal with myself when I went back to wanting them was that I would have to be able to continue my work with adolescents.

I've been a supervisor for seven months. In that time, I've helped secure life-changing services and resources for a transgender teen that he was not getting while with the previous supervisor. This kid, for me, represents why not going back to work isn't an option to me. He represents why I don't just feel replaceable, that anyone could fill my shoes and the kids would be just as well off. MY presence, as Rachel, matters. (I don't think anyone could make it long in social work if they didn't believe that.)

I also need it for me, if we're being honest here. I know myself well enough to know that, for my own psychological well-being, I need something that's completely mine, separate from my family. Something I enjoy and value and take pride in and feel competent in. I've been working since I was 15, and it has always served this purpose for me. As much as I want to be home with my babies, I don't know how well I'd hold up without having that outlet.

With that said, I wish I could have my cake and eat it too. My dream would be to work part-time, about three days a week. I feel this way for many reasons:

1. I would love to do all the yuppie mother/baby activities, like baby yoga or mother/baby swimming at the YMCA or playgroup. Those kinds of things are SO appealing to me as fun ways to bond (and I feel like the social aspect would be great for both of us). Working five days a week would leave no time for this - or energy, for that matter.

2. Weekends are already hard with two working NON-parents because it's our only time to go grocery shopping, clean the apartment, and do laundry. On top of that, there are always family or other events to go to, and there will be even more as more babies enter our friends' and family's lives. It would be so nice to have a couple of days during the week to be able to knock these things out, and have weekends free for relaxed family time.

3. It's going to fly. Everything does. I feel like I'm constantly trying to grasp moments as they whiz by me, and I'm sure the hardest of all will be my baby's development. I don't want to miss anything. In a way this is an unfair sentiment, because the working parent will always be the one forced to make this sacrifice, and must feel similarly.

Part-time work might be a pie-in-the-sky dream considering the cost of living in NYC, but it's a possibility that we continue to talk about. This isn't something I could do at my current agency, so it has had me looking around just to know what's out there. I don't plan on leaving my agency until I feel I have to, because I love it. I make good money compared to similar positions at other agencies; I have great benefits including five vacation weeks, Jewish holidays off, a pension, and a full sick bank that I can use toward maternity leave; I love the atmosphere of my office and the people I work with; I want at least two years' experience as a supervisor so that I have that on my resume without looking like I ran from it or couldn't handle it; I'm HAPPY.

However, coming home between 6:30 and 8:00 is not going to fly when I have my wife and baby at home. Nicole works a steady 8-4 schedule. She will always be able to pick the baby up and be home by 5:00 latest. She'll cook dinner, feed the baby, give the baby a bath. Then I'll come in and kiss the baby goodnight and put her to bed. This thought makes me so sad that I can't even handle it. A half hour bonding with my child is not okay. Granted, if I can leave right at 5:00, I'm home just after 6:00. But that isn't reliable, and when we move out to Long Island, my commute will get longer. 7:00 doesn't even sound THAT bad, but only having evenings together makes every hour count.

As I've looked around, I've noticed a few openings for social workers within the health system where Nicole works. She says they're very hard to get, and they are no longer allowed to refer people or give any kind of boost to people they know, but I'm confident in my skill set and I think I'd have a good shot. The positions themselves were very appealing too. They would utilize the administrative skills that I'm learning, while also allowing me to do some counseling, write psychosocials, etc. - the real social work skills that I miss using. And they are at a hospital, so it's a pretty 9-5 schedule. And I wouldn't have to be on call every few months. And I'd be on Long Island and could drive to and from home within a half hour. The salary would probably be comparable, with less room for movement within the organization, and I'd have the added expenses of a car, but that's fine with me. Just to leave at 5:00 every day, not have to work weekends, and not have to be on call would add so much to the quality of my time with my family that I wouldn't mind having less expendable income. We can live on a little less than we're currently taking in.

None of this would be an issue until it's time to come back from maternity leave, but I like knowing what's out there. It's a relief to be able to imagine a regular working schedule where I could get home not long after Nicole and spend time with our little family. Child welfare is the most stressful (and most underpaid) field of social work, and I know that making that move to helping people (hopefully still adolescents) in a different capacity would be much welcomed for me. I've done my time in foster care, and what I've learned about healing trauma is an invaluable tool that I can take with me to any other field of social work. There are traumatized people in hospitals, in schools, in courts - everywhere. I think separating myself from the child welfare system is the best middle ground I can find - continuing to help heal people in order to work toward a healthier world, while also being able to prioritize the needs of my family.