So, yes. It’s now March and we do not know where we’ll be living next year. I’m in such denial about this it that I probably should have it looked at.

You ever try to get certified to teach children at a public school? I swear it’s a process more rigorous and intensive than applying for the Secret Service. It’s amazing. A good thing, really, if you think about it, but wow.

So we are still in certification limbo. There are a few ways this could work out.

1. If certification comes through in time, he is eligible to apply for jobs.

2. He might be accepted for one. It might be in a region relatively close to either a.) our relatives or b.) York, which is an hour from here.

3. If it is close to our relatives, we can sell our house and live with them for a few weeks til we buy a new house. Relatives could babysit, allowing me to work and allowing our family, you know, food money.

4. If it is in York, we could stay in this house until it’s easier for us to move (i.e. with me NOT in the throes of postpartum hell). Iain could commute. Daycare might be cheaper there.

5. If he doesn’t get a job this spring, we would stay here. We could put the kids in daycare and, with me working, lose $120 every month.

6. If he doesn’t get a job, and we stay here, and I become a SAHM, no kids in daycare, we would lose $520 every month.

As of today, I have no idea which one of these scenarios is going to be our life next year. Which is why i’m trying not to think about it, because Christ, the not knowing is slightly torturous.