Rolling with the Punches

There's a lot going on over here in Pufferville (there always is) and I'm going to try to play catch up in 20 minutes.

First of all, for those of you who have participated in my poll, thank you.  At the time of the poll it certainly did look as if we might jump the gun and leave in February.
However, life in the Big Apple changes quickly and new opportunities--hardly punches--have come our way.  Chicken got herself
a big fat promotion plus she was awarded a juicy project she's had her eye on for a long time.


By the way, while I was writing that, I felt my upper arm and damn, it's scrawny.  I have really let myself go.  I keep reading everyone's FB status of the 5K they ran or a freaking marathon or all the weights they are lifting or how they are practically running their own ashram with their divine yoga skills and let me tell you, I am out.of.shape.
My hair looks like shit, I rarely bother with makeup, I'm flabby (but thin) and my clothes are in need of an overhaul.  Also, Chicken claims I wear the ugliest shoes in NYC (they are comfy!).  I seriously am thinking of BEGGING "What Not to Wear" to come rescue me.  They could title it "Lesbian Twin Mom Stuck in Yoga Pants But Never Does Yoga".  Actually that's not very catchy, they will have to come up with something better but that's there job, not mine.
If they came to my house right at this moment, they would find me in the clothes I slept in last night right down to the no bra, hair in a clip and a fresh face (haha) and the boys are still in their pj's as well.  And Chicken.  We are a family seriously embracing our right to wear comfy clothes 24 hours/day.

In addition, I seemed to have developed a bit of a beer habit which is really helping the flab that has decided to take up residence in my belly regions.  OK, so one beer a night isn't exactly a bad habit, but considering I haven't even bought beer in years and years this is pretty big.  This 'desire' to have a drink say around noon, 5pm happened to coincide right at the time the boys truly stopped napping.  We do OK getting through our day, but come 3pm they are really starting to lose it and there are still 4 hours to go in the day.  By 3:30 5pm, I am starting to lose it and often crack open a beer.  It sure does make bath time a whole lot more fun, let me tell you.

Back to the update.  

We can't leave in February and there's a possibility we might not leave in September.  More than likely we will, but it might be pushed back a bit.
The original planning session did not take into consideration that Chicken might be in her dream job 9 months later.  How many of us can say:

• We love our work
• We love our team
• We have flexible hours
• We work from home
• We travel for work once a month and enjoy that break from 'life'
• We have great benefits, including a pension plan
• And, well, the money ain't bad either

I never could say that when I was in the working world.  None of it.

Who would want to give that up?  Am I disappointed that plans might change?  Yes.

Do I feel like she has most of the control?  Yes.

But it's a compromise and it makes sense overall.

For now, Chicken is looking at options for the following, not necessarily in this order:

1. Taking a sabbatical (6 months unpaid)
2. Finding a way to become an independent contractor with her company for X amount of time (50% work for 50% of pay--probably only 6 months)
3. Working out of the Singapore office (full pay)
4. Working in India (full pay)

As you can see, one year of travel isn't on that list.

She has offered up a bit of a 'deal' for me and that is that I can travel a few more months, a month, maybe two tops, either before our launch date or after the 6 months is up on my own with the twins.

I'd take that.  Even if it means a 24 hour flight on my own with two 4-year-old, I'm down with that.

Right?  It's just 24 hours on a plane.  How bad could it be?

Don't answer that question.